With a radiant and auspicious form, she shone with purity, bringing joy to all who beheld her. Like the holy river Ganga, delighting in the company of graceful swans, she entered the earth, blessing it with her presence. For her beloved, a new delight arose, as if a fresh beloved had come to serve him—the wondrous flowers of the earth, which offered every joy and pleasure. So intimately were their hearts entwined that her moods mirrored his: when he was anxious, she too was anxious; when he rejoiced, joy filled her; when he was disturbed, she also felt unrest. Like a reflection in a clear pool, she was only fearful when anger clouded his heart. With this celestial maiden of the earth—he who had no other consort—he tasted the sweetness of true, unfeigned love. Together, their days unfolded in gardens and forest thickets, beneath the dense shade of tamala trees, on beds canopied with flowers, and in dwellings woven with living vines. They reclined on palace beds strewn with blossoms, wandered through avenues adorned with flowers, swung together in spring gardens, and played in lotus-filled ponds. In sandalwood groves and under the shelter of santana trees, in the homes of kadamba and neem, and within the hollows of paribhadra trees, their love found expression. They explored mountain caves and valleys, rooms with airy windows, terraces along riverbanks, and even mansions perched atop mighty elephants. In the heat of summer, they retreated to icy palaces; in bowers entwined with creepers, golden halls, and rooms adorned with pearls and rubies, they delighted in each other’s company. Where jasmine and coral trees bloomed, sending forth their fragrance, and cuckoos sang in flocks in the spring gardens, they wandered together. They walked on grounds carpeted with radiant grasses of many precious gems, bathed in waterfalls that showered sparkling droplets, and climbed mountains studded with gold and rubies. They visited the dwellings of divine sages and distant, meritorious hermitages. Their joys were many: they played in blooming ponds of white lotuses, among smiling water-lilies, in blossoming forest clearings, and on beds of blue lotuses in full bloom. With riddles and stories, with handfuls of letter-games, board games, and secret contests of dice, they entertained each other. They enacted dramas and tales, composed verses, made intricate patterns of dots, and spoke in various dialects, sharing the customs of cities and villages. Garlands, wreaths, and chains of flowers adorned them; they wore various ornaments, moved with playful grace, and enjoyed vessels of many delights. They chewed tender betel leaves with areca nut and camphor, embraced playfully, and delighted in the gentle motions of swings. At home, they swung each other on flower-adorned swings, taking turns in rhythm, hiding together among blossoming creepers. They journeyed by boat, chariot, elephant, horse, and camel, played in the water, and sprinkled each other with cool drops. Their days were filled with dances, songs, artistic performances, vigorous tandava dances, music, conversations, and the playing of lutes and drums. In gardens and on riverbanks, among trees and along forest paths, within inner chambers and mansions—they found joy in every place and in every way. Yet, this young woman, raised in comfort, ever devoted to her beloved husband, began to reflect with auspicious thoughts. “My husband, lord of the world, is dearer to me than life itself. He is radiant with youthful vigor—how might he become ageless and immortal? How might I, his beloved, continue to delight in these flower-houses with him for hundreds of years?” She pondered, “By gradual effort in asceticism, recitation, and striving, perhaps one may become, like the moon among kings, ageless and deathless.” Desiring knowledge, she sought out the twice-born—those learned in wisdom, asceticism, and the Vedas. “How is it that death does not visit people?” she asked. Honoring them properly, she inquired again and again, “O Brahmins, how can immortality be attained?” The twice-born replied, “O goddess, by all forms of asceticism and recitation, both the accomplished and the unaccomplished attain various results, but immortality is never obtained.” Hearing this, she reflected swiftly and deeply, her heart gripped by the fear of separation from her beloved. “If, by fate, my husband should die before me, then, freed from sorrow, I will peacefully abide in my own self. But if, after a thousand years, my husband dies first, I will act so that his soul does not depart from our home. When my husband’s soul leaves his body and dwells within my own pure inner chamber, I will remain, always visible to him, living there as I please.” Resolving thus, she declared, “Today itself, I begin this endeavor. I will worship the goddess Sarasvati, embodiment of knowledge, with recitation, fasting, and discipline, seeking her satisfaction.” Having made her vow, that noble lady, without informing her husband, undertook severe austerity and discipline according to the scriptures. At the end of every three nights, having completed her fast, she devoted herself to the worship of the gods, the brahmins, teachers, wise men, and scholars. Constantly she bathed, gave in charity, practiced austerity, and studied; her body was ever diligent, performing all duties of faith and good conduct, bearing great hardship. According to proper time, effort, scripture, and order, she continued to please her husband, who remained unaware of her true purpose. For a hundred periods of three nights, that steadfast young woman practiced austerity with unwavering effort. After these hundred sets of three nights, having completed her worship, the blessed goddess Gauri, mistress of speech, became pleased and spoke to her. “Through uninterrupted austerity and surpassing devotion to your husband, I am fully satisfied with you, child. Receive the boon you desire.