From every pore of the great sage Vasiṣṭha’s body, radiant rays burst forth, shining like smokeless, blazing flames of fire. In his hand, the Brahma staff flared with a brilliance akin to the fire of destruction itself, resembling the dread staff of Yama, lord of death. Witnessing this, the assembled sages, awestruck, praised Vasiṣṭha, the foremost among those who recite mantras: “O Brahman, your power is unfailing! Sustain your brilliance with your own radiance.” They continued, “By your might, O Brahman, the formidable Viśvāmitra has been subdued. Your power is supreme and inexhaustible—may the worlds remain free from fear because of you.” Hearing these words, Vasiṣṭha, mighty and radiant, gradually composed himself and calmed his fury. Viśvāmitra, defeated, sighed deeply and lamented, “Alas for 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 destroyed.” Reflecting deeply, he steadied his mind and senses and resolved, “I will undertake great austerity, for only through austerity can one become a true Brahman.” Now, listen to the next chapter in the glorious Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki. Viśvāmitra’s heart was scorched by grief as he recalled his defeat. Sighing again and again, now harboring enmity toward the great-souled Vasiṣṭha, he journeyed southward with his queen. There, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra began the most severe austerities. He sustained himself on fruits and roots, practiced strict self-control, and engaged in supreme penance. In time, sons were born to him—Haviṣpanda, Madhuṣpanda, and the mighty chariot-warrior Dṛḍhanetra—each devoted to truth and righteousness. When a thousand years of Viśvāmitra’s austerities were complete, Brahmā, the grandsire of the worlds, appeared and spoke sweetly to him: “O son of Kuśika, by your austerity, you have conquered the realms of royal sages. By this great penance, we now recognize you as a royal sage.” Having declared this, Brahmā and the gods departed to their heavenly abode. Hearing this, Viśvāmitra felt a tinge of disappointment and modesty. Overcome by sorrow and anger, he thought, “I have performed immense austerity, yet they call me only a royal sage. All the gods and sages—there seems to be no fruit of austerity!” With this resolve, the great ascetic composed himself anew and continued his rigorous penance. At this very time, Triśaṅku, famed as an enhancer of the Ikṣvāku lineage, conceived a desire: “I shall perform a sacrifice and, with my own body, attain the supreme realm of the gods.” He summoned Vasiṣṭha and revealed his intention. But the great-souled Vasiṣṭha replied, “It is impossible.” Rejected, Triśaṅku journeyed southward, seeking another way to fulfill his wish. He approached the sons of Vasiṣṭha, a hundred brilliant ascetics, steadfast in mind and deep in austerity. Triśaṅku greeted each of them respectfully, standing before them with joined palms and lowered head. Humbly, he pleaded, “I have come to you for refuge, O bestowers of shelter. The great-souled Vasiṣṭha has rejected me. Desiring to perform a great sacrifice, I beg your permission. I honor all the sons of my guru; bowing my head, I entreat you, O Brahmins devoted to austerity. For my purpose to succeed, officiate for me so that I may reach the world of the gods with this very body. Having been rejected by Vasiṣṭha, I see no other path but through you, the sons of my guru. Among the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is the highest guide; after him, you are my divinity.” Now, listen to the next sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Hearing Triśaṅku’s earnest words, the hundred sons of the sage, their hearts filled with anger, replied, “You have been rejected, O wicked-minded one, by your truthful guru—how could you transgress and approach another branch? Among the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is the highest path, and the words of the truth-speaking one cannot be disregarded. The venerable Vasiṣṭha has declared, ‘It is impossible,’ yet you seek to assemble the sacrifice elsewhere. You are childish, O best of men. Return to your city. The venerable one is capable of performing the sacrifice for all three worlds, O king. How could we possibly insult him?” Hearing their stern words, Triśaṅku replied, “I have been rejected by the venerable one, and now by the guru’s sons as well. I must seek another path. Farewell, O ascetics.” When the sons of Vasiṣṭha heard these words, which they found dreadful in intent, they became exceedingly enraged and cursed him, declaring, “You shall become a Caṇḍāla—a man of lowest caste!” Having uttered this curse, those great souls returned to their hermitages.