After Viśvāmitra had completed his rigorous austerities, the gods, led by the radiant supreme being, addressed him with respect: “By your austerity, we recognize you as a royal sage.” With these words, the divine assembly departed, returning to the celestial realm—the very abode of Brahmā. Witnessing this, Viśvāmitra’s heart became heavy with modesty, tinged by disappointment. Overwhelmed by sorrow and anger, Viśvāmitra lamented: “Despite my immense austerities, the gods acknowledge me only as a royal sage. All the gods and the hosts of sages—what fruit is there, truly, in austerity?” Thus resolved, the great ascetic, steadfast in righteousness and supreme self-mastery, continued his penance. At this very time, Triśaṅku, famed as the enhancer of the Ikṣvāku lineage and a man of truth and self-control, formed a bold resolve: “I shall perform a sacrifice, O descendant of Raghu. With my own body, I shall attain the supreme state of the gods.” With this intention, he summoned the venerable Vasiṣṭha and revealed his desire. But the great-souled Vasiṣṭha replied, “It is impossible.” Rejected, Triśaṅku set out toward the south, determined to fulfill his aim. He approached the sons of Vasiṣṭha—one hundred in number, radiant and steadfast in their austerities—who were engaged in deep penance. Triśaṅku greeted each of these great-souled ascetics with humility, standing before them with lowered gaze and joined palms. He addressed them with reverence: “I have come to you for refuge, seeking shelter from those who grant it. Rejected by the great Vasiṣṭha, I wish to perform a great sacrifice; I beseech you to grant me permission. I honor all the sons of the guru and entreat you with bowed head, O Brahmins steadfast in austerity. For the sake of accomplishment, officiate for me with concentration, so that I may attain the world of the gods with my body. Rejected by Vasiṣṭha, I see no other path but through you, O ascetics. Among all the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is the highest path; therefore, after him, you are my divinity.” Now, listen, O Rāma, to the next portion of this tale from the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. Hearing Triśaṅku’s plea, the hundred sons of Vasiṣṭha, their words sharp with anger, rebuked him: “You have been rejected, O wicked-minded one, by your truthful guru. How could you transgress and approach another branch? Among all the Ikṣvākus, the family priest is indeed the highest path; the words of the truth-speaking one cannot be transgressed. The venerable Vasiṣṭha has said, ‘It is impossible,’ yet you seek to assemble the sacrifice elsewhere. You are childish, O best of men. Return to your city. The venerable one is capable of performing the sacrifice even for the three worlds, O king. How could we possibly insult him?” Hearing these words, Triśaṅku, his hope dashed, replied: “I have been rejected by my guru and likewise by the sons of my guru. I shall seek another path. Farewell to you, O ascetics.” But the sons of Vasiṣṭha, enraged by his persistence, cursed him: “You shall become a Caṇḍāla!” Having pronounced this curse, they returned to their hermitages. When night had passed, the curse took effect: Triśaṅku was transformed into a Caṇḍāla. His skin grew dark, his garments tattered, his hair disheveled. He adorned himself with garlands of rags, smeared his body with ashes, and wore iron ornaments. Seeing their king in such a dreadful form, his ministers and the townspeople fled in fear, leaving Triśaṅku alone—yet he remained steadfast, burning with longing day and night. With unwavering resolve, Triśaṅku approached the ascetic Viśvāmitra. Seeing the king transformed and bereft, Viśvāmitra was moved by compassion. The great sage, supremely righteous, spoke gently: “May it be well with you. For what purpose have you come, O mighty prince? O lord of Ayodhya, by the curse you have become a Caṇḍāla.” With joined palms, Triśaṅku replied: “Rejected by my guru and likewise by the sons of my guru, I have not attained my desire; instead, I have met with the opposite. O gentle one, may I ascend to heaven with my body. Though I have performed a hundred sacrifices, still I do not obtain the fruit. I have never spoken falsehood, nor will I ever. Even when afflicted, I have upheld the Kṣatriya duty, performing many sacrifices and protecting my people through righteousness. The great-souled elders have been pleased by my conduct and character; striving in righteousness, I have always wished to perform sacrifice. Yet the elders, O best of sages, are not satisfied. I now consider fate to be supreme, and human effort to be fruitless.” Thus, Triśaṅku poured out his sorrow and hope before Viśvāmitra, seeking divine grace in the midst of adversity.