O Śrī Jāhnavī, radiant daughter of the Sun, cherished child of Brahmā and ornament of the three sacred rivers, was invoked with reverence and longing. She was addressed as Prayāga, the foremost of holy places, the Lord of all, the one who uplifts and dispels the tenfold darkness within by her own divine brilliance. The greatest beings—Lord of Speech, Lord Viṣṇu, Indra, and other wise ones—are drawn to Prayāga’s beautiful blue banks. There, they worship, seeking the destruction of sin, for Prayāga stands supreme among all holy places. At this sacred confluence, where the Gaṅgā, born of the Himalayas, meets the celestial river flowing westward, the waters wash away the triple afflictions of humankind. Prayāga, the king of holy places, shines in triumph. Beneath the shade of the dark banyan tree, adorned with its mysterious qualities, worshippers find solace. Its pure shadow brings relief, cutting away fatigue simply by sight, and thus, Prayāga’s glory prevails. Even the great Brahmā and other deities, setting aside their own forms, seek the blessed fortune that graces the virtuous at this place. By serving Prayāga, the gods, kings, and divine sages proclaim daily the rewards found here: heaven itself and sovereignty on earth. Such is the splendor of Prayāga, the king of sacred places. Its very fame destroys sins, and its radiance purifies sight. Prayāga’s light pervades the three worlds and the herds of cows, marking it as the king of all holy places. All around, the confluence gleams with the charming brilliance of white and black chamara fans, where the sacred rivers meet amidst the forest. Here, the daughter of Brahmā—Triveni, the triple-path—is manifest, her presence witnessed directly by ritual acts. For many, countless births pass seeking such a place; yet those of gentle speech may attain it. For those who seek the highest, Prayāga stands supreme. The fortune of reaching this confluence is rare, marked by destiny and auspicious timing—Prayāga, Prayāga! In the age of Kali, when sacrifices are beyond reach for many, the fruits of great rites like Agnistoma and Ashvamedha are fully gained here by praise, hymns, and words alone. If, through negligence or haste, the Sandhya ritual has not been properly observed, performing it here with devotion fulfills Sandhya for all births, even for the speaker. Elsewhere, even with great asceticism and meditation, those far removed in love bow to the illustrious dust of Triveni, to Prayāga, the peerless king of sacred places, self-manifest and shining with the sacred mark. What austerities have been performed, what sacrifices offered, what gifts given, what worship rendered to many gods, what service to holy places, what Brahmin families honored? By these, one might attain the city of Shiva, the giver of auspiciousness, the royal capital itself. By fortune, the wondrous city of Shiva is attained, destroying all sins of countless births—a ferry across the ocean of worldly existence. Here, the family is purified, the self is made whole, and nothing remains to be desired. A living person witnesses a hundred thousand auspicious sights in this place—this is truth, not exaggeration. Even Kashi, so fleeting, was not attained for body and sight as Prayāga is. Even the immortals cannot enumerate the sacred lingas in divine Kashi—ancient, hidden, revealed, and accomplished. To all these, the speaker bows with joined hands. What fear remains from sin, what joy from merit, what pride from study, what sorrow from ignorance, what arrogance from wealth, what pain from poverty, what need for food—if, after bathing in the waters of Śrī Maṇikarnikā, Lord Viśveśvara is seen? Even with little prosperity or health, or with only the strength that comes from encouragement and pure love, the city of Gadādhara—though unattainable by mere desire or dreams—grants immediate liberation. Neither one’s own form, nor past attainments, nor relatives, nor any fixed measure, nor sleep or suffering suffice. The attainment of Gaya, Prayāga, Yamunā, and Kashi—the supreme confluence—is difficult. Only by the favor of Śrī Śāradā is the great fruit won. Even when remembered from afar at the time of the ancestral rite, Gaya grants liberation to the ancestors. To Śrī Gadādhara, who dwells there, the speaker bows in reverence. Having crossed perilous paths, crowded with dangers—tigers, thieves, thorns, and serpents—one arrives at last and humbly begs for sight of Gadādhara by the water. Every day, the speaker longs to see Him. Yet, a question arises: How is it that, though Gadādhara is the all-pervading Self, and though the gods are pleased by offerings at Gaya, He remains indifferent, as if unconcerned with the world? Is this mercilessness, the power of Kali, or perhaps the fruit of long-standing virtue or a preference for service? By Gadādhara’s grace, the śrāddha is completed, and the speaker asks permission to return home. It is advised that one should recite the hymn for the four deities, which grants the reward of heaven, especially at the time of śrāddha or bathing. By hearing, reciting, and chanting, bathing becomes equal to all holy places. Hearing the hymns of Prayāga, Gaṅgā, and Yamunā destroys faults arising from actions. Then, Mahādeva spoke to Nārada: “Listen, and I will tell you the greatness of Tulasī’s origin. Hearing this, one is freed from sin and the cycle of birth and death. “Every part of Tulasī—leaf, flower, fruit, root, branch, bark, stem, and even its soil—is purifying. Those whose bodies are burned with fire made from Tulasī wood, and who have Tulasī wood placed on their bodies after death, are blessed. “Whoever performs the cremation is also freed from sin. At the time of death, if one attains remembrance or chanting of Hari, and if the cremation is done with Tulasī wood—even if only one piece is present among a hundred—there is no return for that soul. “At the time of burning, liberation is attained, even for one burdened by millions of sins. Bathing with Gaṅgā water makes merits even more meritorious. “Logs mixed with Tulasī wood become sanctified; as long as the funeral pyre burns with Tulasī wood, the sins of millions of ages are consumed. Seeing a person’s cremation with Tulasī wood, the attendants of Viṣṇu, not Yama, come to take him. Freed from countless births, he goes to Janārdana. “Those burned with Tulasī wood fire are honored by the gods, who shower them with flowers from their celestial vehicles. The apsarās dance, singers sing, and Viṣṇu and Śaṃbhu are pleased. “Śauri himself takes the soul by the hand and leads him home, removing all sins in the presence of the heavenly hosts. “A great festival is held, with cries of victory, wherever the fire of Tulasī wood burns with clarified butter. Whether in the fire chamber or cremation ground, men’s sins are burned away. Brāhmaṇas who perform oblations with Tulasī wood or sesame seeds receive the fruit of the Agniṣṭoma sacrifice.” Thus, the story unfolds, revealing the supreme sanctity of Prayāga, the confluence of sacred rivers, and the purifying grace of Tulasī, guiding souls toward liberation and divine favor.