Viśvāmitra, the great sage and son of Kuśika, was deep in his ascetic practices when he realized the gods had conspired against him. He lamented, “This is the work of all the gods—a great theft of my austerity. Ten years have passed in the span of day and night.” Overwhelmed by desire and passion, he saw the obstacle that had arisen before him, and, afflicted by remorse, he sighed deeply. Before him stood Menakā, the fearful apsaras, trembling and with palms joined in supplication. Seeing her distress, Viśvāmitra released Menakā with gentle words, showing compassion despite his own turmoil. Resolving to conquer himself and become steadfast, he journeyed to the northern mountain, intent on gaining mastery over his senses and earning renown. Upon reaching the banks of the Kauśikī, Viśvāmitra undertook a fierce and difficult austerity. For thousands of years, he practiced severe penance, determined to attain his goal. His intense efforts caused fear among the gods, and so, together with the hosts of sages, they assembled and consulted on what to do. They agreed: “Let Kuśika’s son attain the title of great sage.” Hearing their words, Brahmā, the grandfather of all worlds, approached Viśvāmitra and spoke sweet words: “Welcome, O child! You have pleased me with your intense penance. I grant you greatness and the foremost status among sages, O Kauśika.” Viśvāmitra, rich in austerity, bowed his head and joined his palms, addressing Brahmā: “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, O tiger among sages.” With these words, Brahmā departed to heaven. When the gods had gone, Viśvāmitra renewed his determination. With arms raised and unsupported, subsisting only on air, he practiced austerity—standing amidst five fires in the heat, remaining exposed to the sky in the rains, and lying in water during the winter, both day and night. For a thousand years, he undertook this terrible penance. As Viśvāmitra burned with austerity, great distress arose among the gods and Indra. Indra, together with the Maruts, devised another plan for his own benefit and for the harm of Kauśika. He spoke to Rambhā, the apsaras, instructing her: “O Rambhā, this is a great task for the gods that you must accomplish. You are to entice Kauśika here, filling him with desire and delusion.” Rambhā, bashful and with joined palms, replied to Indra, “O lord of the gods, this Viśvāmitra, the great sage, is terrible. Without doubt, he will unleash dreadful anger upon me. Therefore, I am afraid; you should grant me your favor.” Seeing her trembling and fearful, Indra reassured her: “Do not fear, Rambhā. May it be well with you. Carry out my command. In spring, amidst beautiful trees, I, together with Kāma, will remain by your side, and the cuckoo will captivate his heart. You, adorned with many qualities and radiant beauty, should disturb that sage Kauśika, devoted to austerity.” Hearing Indra’s words, Rambhā adorned herself with unsurpassed beauty and began to entice Viśvāmitra. The sage heard the sweet voice of the cuckoo singing and, with a delighted mind, gazed upon Rambhā. Yet, because of the song and her appearance, he became doubtful. Perceiving all this as the work of Indra, Viśvāmitra was seized by anger and cursed Rambhā: “Because you tempt me, Rambhā, who seeks victory over desire and anger, you, unfortunate one, shall stand as a stone for ten thousand years. A brāhmaṇa of great splendor and endowed with the power of austerity will deliver you when you have been tainted by my anger.” Having spoken thus, Viśvāmitra, unable to contain his anger and distress, transformed Rambhā into stone by his powerful curse. Kāma, hearing the sage’s words, departed. Overcome by anger and the loss of his ascetic power, Viśvāmitra found no peace within himself, for his senses were not yet mastered. Troubled by the disruption of his asceticism, he resolved, “I will not give in to anger, nor will I speak in any way. Or else, I shall not breathe even for hundreds of years; I will dry up myself, having conquered my senses. Until I attain the status of a Brāhmaṇa, earned through asceticism, I will remain without breathing or eating for countless years. While I am practicing austerities, my bodily forms will not perish.” Thus, for a thousand years, Viśvāmitra undertook an unparalleled vow in the world, determined to conquer his senses and attain the highest status. Abandoning the Himalayan region, he reached the eastern direction and performed exceedingly severe austerities. For another thousand years, he observed a vow of silence, practicing incomparable and supremely difficult asceticism, unwavering in his resolve.