When the powerful Vāsiṣṭhas and the sages from Mahodaya had been subdued by the force of his fierce austerities, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra addressed the assembled sages. He drew their attention to Triśaṅku, a renowned and virtuous descendant of the Ikṣvāku dynasty, who had come to Viśvāmitra seeking refuge. Triśaṅku, noble and generous, harbored a unique desire—to ascend to heaven in his very own body, conquering the celestial realms without casting off his mortal form. Viśvāmitra urged the sages, “Let us commence the sacrifice together with me.” Hearing his words, all the assembled seers—versed in dharma and knowing well the might of Viśvāmitra’s wrath—readily agreed. They recognized that whatever Viśvāmitra, the descendant of Kuśika, commanded must be fulfilled, for he was as formidable as Agni himself, and none wished to risk the sting of his anger. Thus, with determination, the sages resolved to begin the sacrifice, so that Triśaṅku, by the power of Viśvāmitra, might ascend to heaven in his bodily form. The great sages spoke among themselves and then set about the sacred rites. Viśvāmitra, radiant in his ascetic power, took the role of officiating priest, while the other learned priests performed their duties with precision, chanting the mantras and observing every rule. The rituals proceeded in strict accordance with sacred tradition, continuing for a long time. At last, Viśvāmitra, resplendent in his austerity, performed the crucial invocation, calling for the gods to receive their share of the sacrifice. Yet, not a single deity appeared to claim the offering. Viśvāmitra’s anger blazed forth. Lifting the ladle, he turned to Triśaṅku and declared, “Behold the power of my austerity, O king! By my strength alone, I will send you to heaven in your own body. Ascend now, O king, to that realm so difficult to attain.” As the sage pronounced these words, Triśaṅku began to rise bodily toward the heavens, witnessed by all the sages. But as Triśaṅku neared the celestial realm, Indra, king of the gods, and all the heavenly hosts spoke in unison, “Triśaṅku, return! You have not earned a place in heaven.” Indra, recalling the curse laid upon Triśaṅku by his own guru, commanded, “Fall to earth, headfirst, O fool, struck down by your teacher’s curse!” Thus banished, Triśaṅku began to plummet back to earth, crying out in desperation, “Save me!” His plea reached Viśvāmitra, who, hearing the king’s distress, was seized by intense anger. Shining among the sages like a second Prajāpati, Viśvāmitra thundered, “Stop! Stop!” In his wrath, Viśvāmitra created anew the seven sages who dwell along the southern path, and, still burning with anger, he fashioned a new lineage of stars. Turning to the southern direction, surrounded by other sages, he established this new constellation, his mind clouded by fury. In his outrage, Viśvāmitra declared, “I will create another Indra—or let the world exist without an Indra at all!” He began to create new deities as well. This display of power alarmed all the hosts of sages, gods, and asuras. With humility and respect, they approached the great-souled Viśvāmitra, pleading with conciliatory words. “O illustrious sage, this king is afflicted by the curse of his guru. He does not deserve to ascend to heaven in his body, O possessor of supreme austerity.” Hearing the words of the gods, the eminent Kauśika replied with resolute authority, “I have made a solemn promise that Triśaṅku would ascend bodily to heaven. I cannot go back on my word.” He continued, “Let Triśaṅku’s heaven be eternal in his body, and let all these stars I have created remain fixed in the sky. As long as the worlds endure, let these all remain. Whatever the gods have done, let it be accepted.” The gods, thus addressed, replied, “So be it. Let all these remain, and may good fortune be yours.” Thereupon, in the sky, outside the path of Agni, the new stars blazed forth among the heavenly lights. Triśaṅku, with his head downward, was fixed in the heavens like an immortal, and the stars followed him, the best of kings. Having thus fulfilled his vow and achieved his purpose, Viśvāmitra was praised by all the gods for his righteousness and power. Among the assembled sages, mighty ones, and ascetics, the gods declared, “So be it.” At the conclusion of the sacrifice, all the great-souled gods and ascetics departed as they had come. Now, listen to the sixty-first sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Bālakāṇḍa. As the sages took their leave, Viśvāmitra, radiant in his ascetic splendor, addressed the forest-dwelling ascetics around him. “A great obstacle has arisen in the southern direction,” he said. “Let us seek another region for our austerities.” He proposed, “In the vast western land, at Puṣkara, we will practice our penances in comfort. That forest is most suitable for ascetic practice.” Having spoken, the great sage, brimming with energy, journeyed to Puṣkara and there undertook fierce, unassailable austerities, sustaining himself only on roots and fruits. At that very time, Ambarīṣa, the illustrious ruler of Ayodhya, began preparations for a great sacrifice.