In the celestial expanse, beyond the fiery path of Agni, countless stars shone brightly among the heavenly lights, their brilliance admired by the sages. There, Triśaṅku remained suspended with his head downward, preserved like an immortal, and those radiant stars followed him, the best of kings. Having fulfilled his purpose and earned great fame, Viśvāmitra, the righteous sage, attained the heavenly realms. All the gods praised him for his achievement. Amidst the assembly of sages, mighty beings, and ascetics, the gods declared, “So be it.” With the completion of the sacrifice, the great-souled gods and ascetics departed as they had arrived. Now, listen to the sixty-first sarga of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. Viśvāmitra, radiant with splendor, saw the sages preparing to depart. He addressed all the ascetics dwelling in the forest, saying, “A great obstacle has arisen in the southern direction. Let us seek another place and perform our austerities there.” He proposed, “In the vast western region, at Puṣkara, we will comfortably practice austerities. That forest is indeed pleasant for asceticism.” Having spoken, the great sage, full of immense energy, engaged in fierce and unassailable austerities at Puṣkara, subsisting only on roots and fruits. At that very time, Ambarīṣa, the illustrious ruler of Ayodhya, began preparations for a grand sacrifice. However, Indra seized the sacrificial animal, leaving the king without it. The priest addressed Ambarīṣa, saying, “O King, the animal brought for the sacrifice has been lost through your negligence. O lord of men, faults destroy a king who does not protect. This is a grave atonement, O best among men; quickly bring the animal before the ritual proceeds.” Upon hearing his preceptor’s words, the wise and illustrious king searched among thousands of cows, traversing various regions, towns, forests, and sacred hermitages. Accompanied by his son and wife, the descendant of Raghu came upon Ṛcīka seated on Bhṛgu mountain. After bowing respectfully and winning the favor of the great sage, Ambarīṣa addressed him. He inquired about Ṛcīka’s well-being and then said, “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.” Ṛcīka replied, “O best of men, I would never sell my eldest son.” Hearing this, the mother of those great souls 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. Generally, the eldest is beloved to fathers, and the youngest to mothers; thus I will protect the youngest.” When both parents had spoken, Śunaḥśepa, the middle son, addressed them: “Father says the eldest cannot be sold, mother says the youngest; I think the middle one can be sold, prince, so take me.” The king, with mighty arms, then spoke to the Brahmin, offering crores of gold and heaps of jewels and gems. Delighted, the king took Śunaḥśepa in exchange for a hundred thousand cows and departed. The royal sage Ambarīṣa, splendid and renowned, mounted Śunaḥśepa onto his chariot and set out at once. Now, listen to the sixty-second sarga. Having taken Śunaḥśepa, the illustrious king, best among men, rested at Puṣkara at midday. As he rested, Śunaḥśepa, renowned and illustrious, came to the sacred Puṣkara and saw Viśvāmitra. Afflicted and weary, his face downcast from thirst and exhaustion, he saw his maternal uncle, Viśvāmitra, engaged in austerities with the sages. He fell into the sage’s lap and spoke, “I have no mother, no father, nor any relatives or kin. O gentle one, foremost of sages, you ought to protect me by righteousness. For you, best of men, are the refuge and creator of all. Let the king accomplish his purpose, let me have long and unending life. Having performed supreme austerity, may I attain the heavenly world. Be my protector, for I am without protector, with a benevolent heart. Like a father to his son, O righteous one, you ought to save me from sin.” Hearing these heartfelt words, the great ascetic Viśvāmitra comforted Śunaḥśepa in many ways. Then he spoke to his sons: “For the sake of whom fathers desire sons, wishing for good, for the benefit of the next world—now is that time come. This boy, son of a sage, seeks refuge with me. My sons, do what is pleasing by giving him your very life.