O dear one, just as Aṃśumān—whose brilliance was unrivaled in all the world—once strove to bring the sacred river Gaṅgā to earth and yet could not fulfill his vow, so too did the royal sage Dilipa, your father. Dilipa, virtuous and radiant, his asceticism equal to mine, upheld the warrior’s sacred duty and shone with a brilliance surpassing even yours. Yet, despite his deep desire and effort, he too was unable to bring down the Gaṅgā. But you, O best among men, have surpassed the vows of your illustrious ancestors. You have attained the highest and most esteemed fame in all the world. Through your devotion and perseverance, the descent of the Gaṅgā has been accomplished by you, O destroyer of foes, and thus you have reached the great abode of righteousness. Now, O foremost of men, immerse yourself in these holy waters as is proper. Purify yourself and obtain the fruit of merit. Perform the water-rite for your forefathers; may you fare well. I shall now depart to my own realm, and you too may go, O king. Having spoken thus, the lord of the gods, the grandsire of all worlds, departed as he had come, returning to his own celestial realm, renowned among the gods. Then Bhagiratha, the royal sage, performed the excellent water-rite for the Sagaras, his ancestors, in the proper order and with due custom. Having completed the rites and purified himself, the king returned to his own city, and endowed with prosperity, he ruled his kingdom as the best of men. The people rejoiced at the return of their king, O Rāghava. Freed from sorrow, prosperous, and relieved of distress, they became content and happy under his rule. Thus, O Rāma, I have described to you the vast and holy expanse of the Gaṅgā. May you fare well, and may all good be yours, for the time of twilight is passing. Blessed, renowned, life-giving, fruitful, and truly leading to heaven is he who causes this sacred story to be heard among Brāhmaṇas, Kṣatriyas, and all others. His ancestors are pleased, and so are the gods; this narrative of the descent of Gaṅgā bestows long life and is auspicious. Whoever hears this, O descendant of Kakutstha, attains all desires; all sins are destroyed, and both lifespan and fame increase. Thus ends the forty-fourth sarga in the Bālakāṇḍa of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, the first poem. Now, let the forty-fifth sarga be heard in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Having listened to Viśvāmitra’s words, Rāghava, together with Lakṣmaṇa, was filled with great wonder. Rāma then spoke to the sage, saying, “O Brāhmaṇa, what you have told us is truly marvelous—the sacred descent of Gaṅgā and even the filling of the ocean. O subduer of foes, the night has passed for us as if in a moment, as we pondered your entire story. The whole night, together with Saumitri, passed for me while reflecting on your auspicious tale.” When dawn broke and the day was clear, Rāghava, destroyer of enemies, having completed his morning rites, spoke again to the ascetic Viśvāmitra: “The blessed night has passed, and the supreme story has been heard; let us now cross the sacred river, the best of streams, the threefold-flowing Gaṅgā. Behold, a boat—easily crossed by the sages of virtuous deeds—has quickly come, having learned that the venerable one is here.” Hearing these words of the great-souled Rāghava, Kauśika arranged for the crossing of the entire assembly of sages. Having reached the northern bank and duly honoring the group of sages, they settled on the bank of the Gaṅgā and beheld the splendid city of Viśālā. Then the eminent sage, together with Rāghava, swiftly went to the delightful and resplendent city of Viśālā, which shone like heaven itself. Rāma, wise and humble, with joined palms, questioned the great sage Viśvāmitra about the excellent and vast city: “O great sage, which royal lineage is established here in Viśālā? I wish to hear—may good be yours—for I am greatly curious.” Hearing these words, the foremost among sages began to recount the ancient history of Viśālā. “Listen, Rāma, to the tale of Indra as I have heard it. Hear truly what happened in this land, O descendant of Raghu. Long ago, in the Kṛta age, there existed the mighty sons of Diti and the greatly fortunate, powerful, and righteous sons of Aditi. Then, O tiger among men, those great souls deliberated among themselves: ‘How might we become immortal, ageless, and free from disease?’ As those wise ones pondered, the thought arose: ‘By churning the ocean of milk, we shall obtain the essence that lies within.’ Resolving thus, they used Vāsuki as the churning rope and Mandara as the churning rod, and with great energy they began to churn the ocean. After a thousand years of effort, the serpent Vāsuki, used as the rope, began to emit deadly poison from his heads, biting the rocks with his fangs. From this churning arose a blazing, fire-like, dreadful poison called Hālāhala, which scorched the entire world—gods, asuras, and humans alike. In their distress, the gods sought refuge with the great god Śaṅkara, Lord of Beasts, Rudra, and praised him, crying out, ‘Save us, save us!’ Thus addressed by the gods, the Lord of lords of gods appeared there; then Hari, bearing the conch and discus, also manifested. Smiling, Hari spoke to Rudra, the wielder of the trident: ‘What has arisen here while the gods were churning—’” Thus the ancient tale was recounted, and the story continued.