The sage was asked, “By what means do worlds become imperishable, and how does supreme fame and worthiness of worship among the virtuous arise? Please tell me this.” The sage replied, “All this is attained, O mighty-armed one, through offspring. The fame of myself, of Brahmā, and of the ancient sages—all of it endures because of progeny. Do you not see, O lord of mountains, why you question me thus? Let me tell you what I have witnessed myself, O ancient mountain. Once, as I journeyed to Vārāṇasī, I beheld a wondrous sight in the sky—a celestial palace, radiant and magnificent, unmatched in splendor and majesty. Beneath this palace, in a pit below, I heard a cry of deep distress. Through the power of my austerity, I discerned its source and remained hidden, observing. Then, O lord of mountains, a brāhmaṇa arrived—a man of great discipline and purity, his soul cleansed by sacred bathing, steadfast in supreme austerity. As he made his way, a tiger threatened him, and seeking safety, he entered the place where the pit was. There, within the pit, he saw sages hanging upside-down from a pillar of reeds, tormented and sorrowful. The brāhmaṇa approached them and asked, ‘Who are you, suffering so, hanging head-down on these reeds? By what means can you be liberated, O sinless ones?’ They answered, ‘We are your fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers. Though we performed many meritorious deeds, we now suffer because of your wrongful actions. This is a hell, existing in the form of this pit, and you are the pillar of reeds upon which we hang. So long as you live, O brāhmaṇa, we remain here in torment. When you die, we shall descend into hell, our minds tainted by sin. But if you, by uniting with a wife, produce a virtuous son, then by that act we shall be freed from this suffering. No other austerity, nor the fruits of pilgrimage, can accomplish this. Do this, O wise one, and deliver your ancestors from fear.’ Moved by their words, the brāhmaṇa promised to do as they asked. He worshipped the Bull-bannered Lord, raised his ancestors from the pit, and by his merit became a leader among the Gaṇas. Beloved of Rudra, he was called Suveśa, esteemed and powerful, and he became a leader of Rudra’s hosts. Therefore, O lord of mountains, perform severe austerities and produce a son of great virtue by your daughter, she of excellent complexion. Thus addressed by the sage, the lord of mountains, steadfast in discipline, undertook incomparable austerities, by which I was satisfied. Then I appeared before him and said, ‘I am the giver of boons. Speak, for I am pleased with you, O lord of mountains, because of your austerity.’ He replied, ‘O Lord, I desire a son adorned with all virtues. Grant me this boon, if you are indeed pleased with me.’ Hearing these words, I granted him the boon he wished for in his heart. ‘A daughter will be born to you, O lord of mountains, through your austerity. By her power, you will attain renowned fame everywhere. Honored by all the gods, surrounded by countless holy places, purified by merit, she will be revered by the gods everywhere. She will be your eldest, and others will follow after her, O auspicious one.’ In due course, the lord of mountains begot through Menā his daughters: Aparnā, Ekaparṇā, and Ekapāṭalā. Nyagrodhā, Ekaparṇā, and Pāṭalā, as well as Ekapāṭalā, practiced austerity, each subsisting on only a single leaf or, in Aparnā’s case, none at all. For a hundred thousand years—a feat difficult even for gods and demons—Ekaparṇā lived on a single leaf. Ekapāṭalā likewise subsisted on a single pāṭala leaf, and after a thousand years, all the sisters took such food. But Aparnā abstained from all food. Her mother, distressed by affection, implored her to eat. Because of this, the goddess, who performed such difficult austerities, became renowned in all the worlds by the name Aparnā, and was worshipped by the gods. This, then, is the account of the three maidens, whose austerities will endure as long as the earth supports all that moves and is still. All three, their bodies shaped by penance, embraced yoga, ever youthful and greatly fortunate. They are mothers of the worlds and perpetual celibates, sustaining all creation by their own austerity. Among them, Umā is the most distinguished—the eldest, of radiant complexion, endowed with great yogic power. She approached Mahādeva. Dattaka, also called Uśanā, was born as her son; Ekaparṇā bore Devala; the third, Ekapāṭalā, bore a son who became Jaigīṣavya of Alarka, and she also had two sons, Śaṅkha and Likhita, not born from the womb. The splendid Umā, whom I have praised to you, was among them. By her practice of austerity, Aparnā’s tapas grew so intense that the entire three worlds were consumed. Seeing this, I spoke to her: ‘O goddess, why do you torment the worlds with your austerity, O radiant one? All this was created by you—do not destroy it by such means. For you indeed sustain all these worlds with your own splendor. Tell me, O Mother of the Universe, what is your desire now from us?