Hearing the bold words spoken by his sons, the foremost among sages, Viśvāmitra, his eyes reddened with anger, began to speak. “Though you have spoken without fear,” he declared, “your words are condemned even by righteousness. You have disregarded my instructions, and what you have said is harsh and terrifying.” In his wrath, Viśvāmitra pronounced a curse: “All of you, like the descendants of Vasiṣṭha, shall eat dog meat by birth, and for a full thousand years you shall remain on earth.” Having uttered this terrible curse upon his own sons, the great sage then turned to Śunaḥśepa, who stood nearby, distressed. With compassion, Viśvāmitra assured the boy of his protection and well-being. He instructed Śunaḥśepa to be bound with sacred cords, adorned with red garlands and unguents, and to approach the Viṣṇu-post. “Invoke the fire with words,” Viśvāmitra said, “and at the sacrifice of King Ambarīṣa, sing these two divine verses. By doing so, you shall attain success.” Śunaḥśepa, carefully learning the two sacred verses, quickly approached King Ambarīṣa and addressed him: “O lion among kings, great in wisdom, let us go quickly. O king of kings, bring your vow to fulfillment and proclaim the completion of the rite.” Hearing these words, Ambarīṣa was filled with joy and, without delay, proceeded to the sacrificial enclosure. With the approval of the officiating priests, the king marked Śunaḥśepa as the sacrificial victim with a sacred sign, and bound him to the post, clothing him in red garments. Thus bound, Śunaḥśepa praised Indra and Indra’s younger brother with excellent words, as was proper for the occasion. Indra, the thousand-eyed, was pleased by this secret hymn of praise and, in his delight, granted Śunaḥśepa long life. King Ambarīṣa, the best of men, completed the sacrifice and, by the grace of Indra, obtained abundant fruits from the rite. Viśvāmitra, too—righteous-souled and possessed of great austerity—continued his penance at Puṣkara for another hundred years. Now, listen to the sixty-third chapter of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Bālakāṇḍa. When the thousand years of Viśvāmitra’s penance were complete, all the gods assembled and approached the great sage, who had just bathed after fulfilling his vow, wishing to grant him the fruit of his austerity. Brahmā, radiant with immense brilliance, addressed him with pleasing words: “By your own virtuous deeds, you are a sage, blessed one.” Having spoken thus, the lord of the gods returned to heaven, but Viśvāmitra, filled with energy, resolved to undertake even greater austerity. After a long time, Menakā, the foremost among the celestial apsarases, came to bathe at Puṣkara. The mighty and radiant son of Kuśika beheld her, her beauty incomparable, shining like lightning within a cloud. Overcome by the pride of desire, the sage welcomed her: “O apsaras, please stay here in my hermitage. Grant me your favor, blessed one, for I am bewildered by passion.” Thus addressed, the lovely Menakā took up residence in the hermitage. But as she dwelt there, a great obstacle arose for Viśvāmitra’s austerity, for five years and five more. Those years passed pleasantly in the peaceful hermitage, but when that time had elapsed, shame and sorrow overcame the great sage. A thought, filled with indignation, arose in his mind: “This is the work of the gods, a great theft of my austerity. Ten years have passed in the span of day and night. Overwhelmed by desire and passion, I have suffered this obstacle.” Afflicted with remorse, the eminent sage sighed deeply. Seeing Menakā trembling with fear, her palms joined in supplication, Viśvāmitra released her with gentle words. Then, resolute in his purpose, he departed for the northern mountain, seeking to conquer himself and gain renown for steadfastness. Reaching the bank of the Kauśikī river, he undertook severe austerity—so difficult that few could attempt it. For thousands of years, he practiced fierce penance. On the northern mountain, Viśvāmitra’s growing power caused fear among the gods. All the gods and hosts of sages assembled and consulted together. “Let Kuśika’s son attain the title of great sage,” they decided. Hearing their words, Brahmā, the grandfather of all worlds, spoke sweetly to Viśvāmitra: “Welcome, O child! Your intense penance has pleased me. I grant you greatness and the foremost status among sages.” Hearing Brahmā’s words, Viśvāmitra, rich in austerity, with joined palms and bowed head, addressed the Creator: “If you declare for me the incomparable title of Brahmarṣi, earned by my own virtuous deeds, then I am one who has conquered the senses.” Brahmā replied, “You have not yet conquered the senses. Strive further, O tiger among sages.” With these words, Brahmā departed for heaven. When the gods had gone, Viśvāmitra redoubled his efforts. With arms raised and unsupported, subsisting only on air, he practiced austerity. In the heat, he stood amidst five fires; in the rains, he remained exposed to the sky. In winter, he lay in water by day and night. For a thousand years, he undertook this terrible penance. As Viśvāmitra burned with the fire of his austerity, great distress arose among the gods and Indra, who looked upon the sage’s growing power with concern.