Skandapurana 1.4.25: adhyāyaḥ 27

Nārada said:
Then, together with the goddess, he entered an incomparable, divine, and auspicious house
made entirely of jewels, fashioned by Īśāna himself.

There on Mount Mandara, the slayer of the eyes of Bhaga,
his mind filled with joy, took his pleasure with the goddess in that palace and garden.

Meanwhile, the gods, severely afflicted by Tāraka
and exceedingly incited by me, who wished to cause conflict,

approached the god Bhava and praised him with many hymns.
In the meantime, the goddess was rubbing unguents upon her body.

Then, out of the dirt from the unguents, she fashioned an elephant-faced person,
overwhelmed with compassion by the holy praises of the gods.

With a delighted mind, the goddess said to him, "My son!"
In the meantime, Śarva arrived there and spoke these words:

"Hear, O daughter of the mountain, what kind of person this son of yours will be:
He will be like me in prowess, vigor, and compassion.

Such as I am, so shall this son of yours be in virtues.
And those who are sinful, ill-behaved, and hate the Vedas and dharma—

he will create obstacles for them until their death.
And those who do not respect me, or Viṣṇu, the teacher of the universe,

obstructed by the Lord of Obstacles, they shall go to great darkness.
Quarrels in their homes will never cease;

by the obstacle [caused by] your son, they will be utterly destroyed.
For those who do not honor those worthy of honor, who are given to anger and falsehood,

and who are ferocious and rash, he will create obstacles.
For those who maintain the duties of the Vedas, familial duties, and their teachers,

who are compassionate and free from anger, he will remove obstacles.
All religious duties and rites of various kinds

will be beset with obstacles without worship offered to him, O auspicious lady."
Having heard this, Umā said to Śaṃkara, "So be it."

Then he became huge-bodied, illuminating the directions with his brilliance.
Then Śarva gave him, along with his attendants, to the gods, [saying]:
"He shall be your lord until the slayer of Tāraka is born."

Then, praised by the gods, the Lord of Obstacles, the destroyer of the distress of the Pramathas,
executed their tasks and placed obstacles before the descendants of Diti.

Then the goddess Pārvatī again, treating a sprout of an aśoka tree as a son,
nurtured it with lovingly fetched waters.

Having summoned the seven seers, the slender-limbed lady
had the auspicious rite of the tree performed; then the sages said to her:

"You yourself ought to establish the standard along the path you have shown.
What will be the fruit, O goddess, produced from trees adopted as sons?"

The goddess said:
"A wise man who constructs a well in a waterless village
rejoices in heaven as long as there is water in the well.

A step-well is equal to ten wells; a reservoir is equal to ten step-wells;
a daughter is equal to ten reservoirs; a sacrifice is equal to ten daughters;

a son is equal to ten sacrifices; a tree is equal to ten sons.

This is my established rule, ordained for the welfare of the world.
And if restoration of the decayed is done, the fruit is considered double."

Thus the origin of Gaṇeśa.
Then, on one occasion, the Lord with Umā on Mandara,
in a delightful and auspicious mansion made of gold,

resounding with the humming of swarms of large bees drawn by the fragrance of scattered flowers,
its interior echoing with the music sung by Kinnaras,

echoing with pet peacocks, swans, and parrots,
with windows fashioned from pearls and various jewels—

while the two were amusing themselves there with sacred tales,
a great sound arose that filled the realm of the sky.

Hearing it, the goddess of lovely form out of curiosity and with wonder
asked Śaṃkara, Hara: "What is this?"

The mountain-dweller said to the goddess: "They have been seen by you before;
these are my gaṇas, dear to you, sporting on this mountain, O auspicious lady.

Through austerity, celibacy, mortification, and practices at sacred fields,
they satisfied me on earth; these are the best of men.

They have attained my presence and my world, O fair-faced one; / they are capable of creating and destroying the universe of moving and unmoving beings.

Without them I have no pleasure at all, nor do I rejoice bereft of them. / These are I, and I am these; behold each of them, O Pārvatī.

Thus addressed, the astonished goddess looked at them from the window; / standing there, the lotus-petal-eyed lady was spoken to by Mahādeva.

Some were lean, short, or tall; some were fat and big-bellied; / with faces of tigers, elephants, rams, and goats, having the huge faces of various creatures.

Dressed in tiger skins, others were naked, with flaming faces; / cow-eared and elephant-eared, with many feet, faces, and eyes.

Having diverse mounts, and bearing various weapons, / knowing the true nature of singing and musical instruments, delighting in the essence of noble songs.

Seeing them, Pārvatī said: “How many are they in number and name?”

Śrī Śaṃkara said: / “Countless are they, O goddess, and countless are their names; / the entire universe is filled by these terrible ones of great strength.

In sacred fields of perfection, in roads, in ruined gardens, and in houses, / in the bodies of Dānavas, in children, and in madmen,

these enter, joyous, sporting with various foods: / some drinking steam, some drinking foam, some drinking smoke, some drinking wine, / feeding on intoxicants, eaters of everything, and others without food.

Bearing offerings of song and dance, loving the sounds of various instruments; / and because of their endlessness, their qualities cannot indeed be told.”

The goddess said: / “He whose face is smeared with the paste of realgar, / having the form of the sun in radiance, resembling your appearance,

hearing repeatedly your great qualities sung by the attendants, O Lord, / dances again and again, and bursts into laughter repeatedly;

who, overcome, says over and over, ‘Sadāśiva! Śiva!’ / Fortunate is he whose devotion toward you, Maheśvara, is like this!

I wish to know him. What is the name of this attendant of yours?” / Śrī Śaṃkara said: / “He is Vīraka, O goddess, ever dear to me, O daughter of the mountain.

The receptacle of various wondrous qualities, he is considered my doorkeeper, O Ambikā.” / The goddess said: / “I have a longing for such a son too, O Destroyer of the Cities.

When shall I obtain such a son who gives joy?” / Śarva said: / “Let him indeed be your son, until another such one is born.”

Thus addressed, she said to Vijayā: “Bring Vīraka quickly.” / And Vijayā, going then, spoke these words to Vīraka:

“Come, Vīraka; the auspicious goddess Girijā is pleased with you. / With the consent of Bhava, that goddess is calling you herself.”

Thus spoken to, filled with agitation, wiping his face with his hand, / he approached the goddess, followed slowly by Jayā.

Seeing him, Girijā said with words of sweet syllables: / “Come, come, my son; you have been given to me as a son by Bhava.

Thus addressed, he bowed down like a staff before the goddess and stood before her. / Then his mother embraced him, placed Vīraka on her lap,

and kissed him on the cheek, and wiped his limbs; / she adorned him herself with various divine ornaments.

Having thus accepted him as her son, Umā fondled him for a long time, / and said: “Go and play, my son, along with the attendants.”

Then that son of Pārvatī played in the midst of the attendants, / praising repeatedly in his mind devotion to Śaṃkara:

“Bowing down to all beings, I make this difficult prayer: / worship Īśāna with devotion, for of that devotion this is the fruit!”

When Vīraka had gone to play, then the goddess Pārvatī / played again with the matted-haired Lord with various conversations.

Then Maheśvara, having thrown his arm around the neck of the mountain's daughter, / spoke jesting words to the goddess, indeed for the special purpose of her austerity:

For Śarva was fair of body, especially adorned with the moon; / and the goddess, tinted like the night, had the luster of a blue lotus.

Śarva said: / “O slender-limbed lady, you of dark radiance shine upon my white body / like a dark female snake clinging to a white sandalwood tree,

or like a dark night mixed with moonlight; / like a night during the bright fortnight, you offend my sight!”

Thus addressed by him, Girijā, releasing her neck from Śarva, / with eyes red with anger and face distorted with a frown, said:

“Every person is humiliated by a person according to their own doing; / an applicant inevitably receives rejection, O Bearer of the Crescent Moon!

In that I prayed for you through austerities of blazing deeds, / to that vow of mine, there is this insult at every step!

I am not crooked, O Śarva, nor am I harsh, O Dhūrjaṭi; / by your own faults have you reached patience, and thus the splendors of the moon.

I do not steal eyes; you, Bhava, are the destroyer of eyes; / Bhaga knows that of yours, and so do these three worlds!

You produce a pain in my head, reviling me with your own faults; / as for your calling me ‘black,’ you are renowned as Mahākāla!

I shall go to the mountain to abandon myself through austerity; / by living on, humiliated by a rogue, I have no purpose!”

Hearing her words of anger and sharp syllables, Bhava, / Hara of inscrutable conduct, was bewildered and said:

“You do not know the truth, O Girijā; I was not intent on censuring you. / With a thought toward playful flattery, I spoke in jest.

It was a doubt of pure mind, [thinking] ‘This Girijā is my beloved’; / usually, in the hearts of those smeared with ashes, thoughts are conceived differently.

From people like us, O dark-limbed one, words proceed otherwise. / If you are angry in this way, O timid one, I shall not speak to you again.

I shall speak only in jest; give up your anger, O lady of sweet smiles! / With bowed head I bow to you; I have made a folded-hands gesture to you.

Even with poor humiliation, censured, do not fall into distress; / it is better that I am humble; are you not endowed with virtues, O goddess?”

Addressed thus with many flattering words and sweet speeches by the god,
Satī, wounded to the quick, did not abandon her fierce anger.

Then, tossing away her feet that had been seized by Śaṃkara's hand,
with disheveled curls, the Mountain's daughter swiftly sought to depart.

As she was departing in anger, the Destroyer of the [Three] Cities spoke again:
"It is true: in every limb, a daughter resembles her father.

Just like the peaks of the snowy mountain that are enveloped by rows of clouds,
so too is your mind: the intention of your heart is impassable.

Painful hardness has passed into you in many ways from the forests;
crookedness from the rivers, and difficult accessibility even from the frost.

All this has passed onto you, O goddess, from the snowy mountain."
Spoken to thus, the Mountain's daughter then replied to Giriśa:

Her face trembling and darkened with anger, her lips quivering:
"O Śarva, do not reproach virtuous people by your own standard!

Indeed, all [evil] has passed onto you as well from evil contact:
multiple tongues from serpents, and absence of affection from ashes;

turbidity of heart from the moon, and dullness of wit even from the bull.
Or rather, what is the use of saying much? Enough with the labor of my words!

Your dwelling is in the cremation ground; you have no shame because of your nakedness;
and pitilessness from holding a skull—who could bear you like this?"

Thus ends the twenty-seventh chapter, entitled "The Description of Pārvatī's Great Anger", in the Kumāreśvaramāhātmya of the Kaumārikākhaṇḍa, in the first Māheśvarakhaṇḍa, in the glorious Skanda Mahāpurāṇa consisting of eighty-one thousand verses.