O King, by the sheer power of the sage Viśvāmitra, you were granted the blessing to ascend to heaven in your very body. As the sage pronounced these words, you, Triśaṅku, rose bodily toward the heavens, while the assembled sages watched in amazement. But as you approached the celestial realm, Indra, king of the gods, together with all the hosts of immortals, confronted you. They declared, “Triśaṅku, return to earth; you have not earned a place in heaven.” Indra, recalling the curse placed upon you by your own teacher, commanded harshly, “O fool, struck down by your guru’s curse, fall to earth headfirst!” At Indra’s words, you began to plummet, head downward, from the heavens. As you fell, you cried out in desperation, “Save me!”—calling upon Viśvāmitra, the great sage endowed with immense ascetic power. Hearing your plea, Viśvāmitra was seized by intense anger. He shouted, “Stop! Stop!” and, shining among the sages like another Prajāpati, he resolved to counter the gods’ decree. In his wrath, Viśvāmitra created anew the seven sages who dwell in the southern sky and established another lineage of stars. His mind clouded by anger, he turned to the southern direction and, surrounded by other ascetics, created a new array of stars. Still overcome by rage, Viśvāmitra declared, “I will create another Indra, or else let the world be without an Indra!” and he began to manifest new deities as well. Alarmed by this tremendous display of power, all the sages, gods, and asuras approached Viśvāmitra with great reverence and conciliatory words. They said, “O most fortunate one, this king is afflicted by the curse of his guru. O possessor of ascetic wealth, he does not deserve to ascend bodily to heaven.” Hearing these words, Viśvāmitra, the eminent sage, addressed the assembled deities with powerful resolve: “A promise has been made for Triśaṅku’s bodily ascent to heaven. I cannot bring myself to act falsely. Let heaven be eternal for Triśaṅku in his body, and let all these stars that I have created remain fixed. As long as the worlds endure, let these all remain; and whatever the gods have done, you ought to approve.” Thus addressed, all the gods replied, “So be it; let all these remain, and may good fortune be yours.” And so, in the sky, outside the path of Agni, those many stars blazed among the heavenly lights. Triśaṅku, suspended with his head downward, was to remain like an immortal, and the stars would follow him, the best of kings. Thus, Viśvāmitra achieved his purpose and fame, and Triśaṅku attained the heavenly world. The gods praised Viśvāmitra, the righteous sage. In the midst of the ascetics and the mighty ones, the gods and sages said, “So be it.” Then, O best of men, all the great-souled deities and ascetics departed as they had come, at the conclusion of the sacrifice. Now, listen to the next chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Bālakāṇḍa. Viśvāmitra, radiant and powerful, saw the sages setting out and addressed all the forest-dwelling ascetics: “A great obstacle has arisen in the southern direction; let us go elsewhere to perform our austerities. In the vast western region, at Puṣkara, we shall practice our penances comfortably; that forest is indeed pleasant for asceticism.” Having spoken thus, Viśvāmitra, full of immense energy, undertook fierce and unassailable austerities at Puṣkara, subsisting only on roots and fruits. At that very time, the great ruler of Ayodhya, renowned as Ambarīṣa, began preparations for a grand sacrifice. However, Indra seized the sacrificial animal meant for the ritual. When the animal was lost, the priest spoke to the king: “O King, the animal brought for the sacrifice has been lost due to your negligence. O lord of men, faults destroy a king who does not protect. This is a great atonement, O best among men; quickly bring the animal before the ritual proceeds.” Hearing these words, the wise and illustrious king searched among thousands of cows for a suitable animal. He journeyed through many regions, towns, forests, and sacred hermitages. Accompanied by his son and wife, the descendant of Raghu came upon the sage Ṛcīka, seated on the Bhṛgu mountain. The king, radiant and noble, bowed before the great sage blazing with ascetic power, and sought to win his favor. After inquiring about Ṛcīka’s well-being, the king spoke: “If you are willing, sell your son for a hundred thousand cows. O illustrious Bhārgava, for the sake of the sacrificial animal, I have fulfilled my duty; all regions have been searched, but I cannot find a suitable animal for the sacrifice. Please, give me one son for a price.” Thus addressed, the mighty Ṛcīka replied, “O best of men, I would never sell my eldest son.” Hearing this, the mother of those noble sons spoke to Ambarīṣa, “The venerable Bhārgava has said the eldest son cannot be sold. Know, O lord, that my youngest, Śunaka, is also dear to me; therefore, I will not give you the youngest son, O king. For generally, O best of men, the eldest is beloved to fathers, and the youngest to mothers; thus I will protect the youngest.