As the gods departed for heaven, having exhorted him to strive onward, the great sage Viśvāmitra stood alone, determined to pursue the highest austerities. With unwavering resolve, he raised his arms and, unsupported, subsisted solely on air. Through scorching summers, he stood amidst five blazing fires; during the monsoon rains, he remained exposed beneath the open sky. In the harshness of winter, he immersed himself in icy water, both day and night. For a thousand years, Viśvāmitra endured these terrible ascetic practices, his body and mind burning with the intensity of his tapas. Such was the severity of his austerity that distress arose among the gods, and Indra, their king, grew anxious. Seeking to impede Viśvāmitra’s growing power, Indra gathered the Maruts and approached Rambhā, the apsaras. He spoke to her, “O Rambhā, you must accomplish a great task for the gods. Entice Kauśika—Viśvāmitra—here, fill him with desire and delusion.” Rambhā, bashful and with palms joined in reverence, replied, “O lord of the gods, Viśvāmitra is a terrible ascetic. Without doubt, he will unleash dreadful anger upon me. I am afraid; please grant me your favor.” Indra, seeing her trembling, reassured her, “Do not fear, Rambhā. May all be well with you; carry out my command. In spring, amidst beautiful trees, I will be by your side with Kāma, and the cuckoo’s song will captivate his heart. Adorned with radiant beauty and many qualities, you must disturb the sage Kauśika, who is devoted to austerity.” Hearing Indra’s words, Rambhā adorned herself with unsurpassed beauty and, smiling sweetly, began to entice Viśvāmitra. The sage heard the melodious cuckoo singing, and his heart was delighted as he gazed upon Rambhā’s exquisite form. Yet, as he listened to the enchanting song and beheld her radiant presence, doubt arose in his mind. Perceiving this as Indra’s scheme, Viśvāmitra, the son of Kuśika, was seized by anger and cursed Rambhā: “Because you tempt me, Rambhā, who seeks victory over desire and anger, you shall stand as a stone for ten thousand years. Only a brāhmaṇa of great splendor and the power of austerity will deliver you when you have been tainted by my anger.” Unable to contain his fury and distress, Viśvāmitra’s powerful curse transformed Rambhā into stone instantly. Kāma, too, departed, hearing the sage’s words. Overcome by anger and the loss of his ascetic power, Viśvāmitra, whose senses were not yet mastered, found no peace within himself. His mind 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 practice austerity, my body will not perish.” Thus, for another thousand years, Viśvāmitra undertook an unparalleled vow, his resolve shining forth in the world. Leaving the Himalayan region, the great sage journeyed eastward and performed exceedingly severe austerities. He observed a vow of silence for a thousand years, practicing an incomparable and supremely difficult asceticism. When those thousand years were completed, Viśvāmitra, now like wood from his ordeal and shaken by many obstacles, did not allow anger to enter his heart. Having made this resolve, he continued inexhaustible asceticism. When the vow was fulfilled, he began to eat food once more. Then Indra, taking the form of a Brāhmaṇa, approached and asked Viśvāmitra for the prepared food. The sage gave all the food to the Brāhmaṇa, as he had determined, and did not eat anything himself. He spoke nothing, maintaining his vow of silence. Again, he observed silence and refrained from breathing. For yet another thousand years, the foremost sage did not breathe, and as he remained thus, smoke arose from his head. This smoke disturbed the three worlds, as if they were afflicted. Gods, sages, gandharvas, serpents, and rākṣasas—all were bewildered by his asceticism and brilliance, their own radiance dimmed. Afflicted by distress, they approached the grandsire, Brahmā. “O Lord,” they said, “the great sage Viśvāmitra, having been tempted and angered for many reasons, increases all the more in his ascetic power. Not even the slightest fault is seen in him. If his heart’s desire is not granted, he will destroy the three worlds with all their moving and unmoving beings by his asceticism. All directions are disturbed, and nothing is visible.” Thus, the mighty Viśvāmitra’s relentless austerity shook the heavens and the earth, his tapas blazing forth, unmatched and unstoppable.