As the great-souled Vasiṣṭha absorbed the terrible Brahma missile, his very form grew fierce and awe-inspiring, so much so that the three worlds themselves were struck with bewilderment. From every pore of Vasiṣṭha’s body, rays of light burst forth, blazing like pure, smokeless flames of fire. The Brahma staff, which he held aloft, shone with a destructive brilliance, radiant like the very staff of Yama, god of death. Witnessing this extraordinary display, the assembly of sages sang Vasiṣṭha’s praises, exclaiming, “O Brahman, your power is unfailing! Restrain your brilliance with your own radiance, for you are the best among those who recite mantras.” They continued, “By your strength, mighty Viśvāmitra has been subdued. Your power is supreme and unerring—may the worlds remain free from fear because of you.” Hearing these words, Vasiṣṭha, mighty and radiant, composed himself and calmed his blazing energy. Viśvāmitra, defeated, sighed deeply and spoke in sorrow, “Fie upon the power of the warrior, the strength of the Kṣatriya! True strength lies in Brahmanic energy. With a single Brahma staff, all my weapons have been reduced to nothing.” Contemplating this, Viśvāmitra steadied his senses and mind, and resolved, “I will now undertake the most rigorous austerities, for that alone is the true path to becoming a Brahman.” Now, listen to the next chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Viśvāmitra, his heart scorched by the grief of defeat and recalling his humiliation, sighed again and again, now holding enmity toward the great-souled Vasiṣṭha. With his queen, he journeyed southward and, there, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra engaged in the most severe austerities. He lived on fruits and roots, mastered his senses, and practiced supreme penance. In time, sons were born to him—Haviṣpanda, Madhuṣpanda, and Dṛḍhanetra, the great chariot-warrior—all devoted to truth and righteousness. When a thousand years of penance had passed, Brahmā, the grandsire of the worlds, appeared and spoke sweetly to Viśvāmitra, who had amassed great ascetic wealth: “O son of Kuśika, by your austerities you have conquered the realms of royal sages. Through this penance, we recognize you as a royal sage.” Having thus spoken, the radiant Brahmā departed with the gods for his celestial abode. Hearing this, Viśvāmitra felt a pang of disappointment and modesty. Overwhelmed by sorrow and anger, he said, “I have performed immense austerities, yet they know me only as a royal sage! Of what use is this penance if even the gods and sages grant me no higher fruit?” Thus resolved, the mighty ascetic, his mind set, continued his rigorous austerities. At that time, another notable event unfolded. Triśaṅku, renowned for upholding the glory of the Ikṣvāku lineage, conceived a desire: “I will perform a sacrifice and, with this very body, attain the supreme realm of the gods.” He summoned the great Vasiṣṭha and revealed his intention, but Vasiṣṭha, steadfast and wise, replied, “It is impossible.” Rejected, Triśaṅku journeyed southward, seeking another way to fulfill his wish. He approached the hundred sons of Vasiṣṭha, who were engaged in deep austerities, each steadfast and radiant. With humility, Triśaṅku greeted them all, standing before them with hands joined and head bowed. He spoke earnestly, “I have come to you for shelter, O you who grant refuge. Rejected by the great Vasiṣṭha, I now seek your permission to perform a great sacrifice. I honor you all and beseech your help, so that I may attain the world of the gods with this body. Among the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is the highest path, and after him, you are my divinity.” Now, hear the next chapter of the Rāmāyaṇa. Upon hearing Triśaṅku’s request, the hundred sons of Vasiṣṭha, their hearts stirred with anger, addressed him sharply: “O wicked-minded one, your own guru, whose word is truth, has rejected you. How dare you approach another branch, defying his command? Among the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is the highest path, and the words of the truth-speaking sage cannot be transgressed. If the venerable Vasiṣṭha has said ‘impossible,’ how could we, his sons, perform such a sacrifice? Return to your city, O king. The venerable one is capable of accomplishing sacrifices for even the three worlds—how could we possibly insult him?” Hearing their words, Triśaṅku replied with sorrow, “I have been rejected by the venerable one, and now by you, his sons, as well. I must seek another path. Farewell, O ascetics.