Skandapurana 5.129

The seers said: / "O Sūta, the son of Yājñavalkya who was mentioned by you— / which [wife] was his mother? Tell us everything in detail!"

Sūta said: / "He had two excellent wives, endowed with all virtues. / One virtuous [wife] of his was renowned as Maitreyī.

And the other, the elder and auspicious one, was known as Kātyāyanī, / whose son was Kātyāyana, the expounder of the meanings of the Veda.

Between the two of them there are two very beautiful pools, / bathing in which men go to worlds of great splendour.

Next to Kātyāyanī's sacred ford, there is another excellent sacred ford located there, / belonging to Śāṇḍilī, who was devoted to her husband.

Where Kātyāyanī arrived, instructed by Śāṇḍilī, / and reached supreme detachment, grieved by the sorrow of a co-wife.

Whatever woman, composed in mind, bathes there / on the third day of the bright fortnight of the month of Mārgaśīrṣa, becomes fortunate in marriage. / Even if she is afflicted with misfortune, one-eyed, old, or a dwarf, / she becomes beloved through its power, O best of brahmins."

The seers said: / "What kind of sorrow born of a co-wife befell Kātyāyanī? / How was instruction received from Śāṇḍilī, O Sūta, and of what kind was it?

Explain to us the curious circumstance concerning Kātyāyanī. / This instruction uttered by her must not have been an ordinary one!"

Sūta said: / "Beholding Yājñavalkya deeply attached to Maitreyī, / that Kātyāyanī became intensely tormented by grief and jealousy.

She did not bathe, she did not eat, nor did she ever laugh; / her eyes were only filled with tears, and she was heave with sighs.

Then once, having gone outside to gather fruits, / she saw the woman named Śāṇḍilī standing beside her husband,

standing with folded hands, virtuous and bent low with humility. / He too was gazing attentively at her face, full of affection, with a pleased look,

and inquired about and spoke of news regarding virtues and shortcomings. / And seeing those two spouses delighted with one another,

she thought in her mind: 'Truly blessed is this ascetic woman, / whose husband gazes intently at her face, converses on virtues and faults, / is affectionate and very tender, and maintains no other woman!'

Reflecting thus again and again, O best of brahmins, / that virtuous woman went back to her own hermitage, reproaching her own body.

Then once, when Śāṇḍilī was remaining in private, O brahmins, / and her husband had gone outside on some business,

Kātyāyanī approached and then respectfully inquired of her: / 'Tell me, O auspicious one, some instruction of great consequence,

by which a husband ever looks intently at his wife's face / and never dishonours her with harsh-spoken words,

nor ever approaches another woman, even in his thoughts! / I am exceedingly afflicted by sorrows caused by my husband, / especially by those born of a co-wife; therefore, explain this to me:

how your husband has come under your control, ever granting your wishes, / so that he would never direct his mind toward any other woman!'"

Śāṇḍilī said: / "Listen, O virtuous woman, I shall tell you the supreme secret / of how my husband came under my control and looks intently at my face.

My father was the excellent sage Śāṇḍilya in Kurukṣetra; / in his early age, he stayed in the hermit's life in the forest.

There I was born, the only daughter of that great-souled one, / and grew up gradually in that very penance grove."

I performed service there at the time of the fire offering as was proper, / and I always brought wild grains and other provisions.

Then, after some time, Nārada, the best of sages, / arrived at my father’s hermitage, utterly exhausted.

Then, by my father’s command, rest was provided to him there by me / through services such as washing his feet, bathing, and other such rites.

Then, when he had finished eating, seated at ease and comfortably rested, / he was asked with deference by my mother, O fair-complexioned lady:

“This is our only daughter, born when our youth was already advanced, / dearer [to us] even than our own life-breaths, O tiger among sages!

Therefore, swiftly declare for her an easy means that brings forth happiness: / a vow, an observance, a fire offering, or even a mantra,

by performing which she may obtain a very gentle husband endowed with good qualities, / sweet-speaking, attentive to her countenance, and turning away from other women.”

Having heard those words of hers, that sage immediately / meditated for a long time, and then spoke with a serene countenance:

“In the sacred field of Hāṭakeśvara, Parameśvarī Gaurī / resides as Pañcapiṇḍā, having been installed there by Gaurī herself.

Let her always worship her with supreme faith and devotion for a year, / especially on the third lunar day.

Then, at the end of the year, she will obtain a husband / of suitable form and worthy [of her]; of this there is no doubt.

In former times Gaurī went there, having abandoned Maheśvara / out of jealousy toward the Gaṅgā, O noble lady, knowing it to be a sacred field that grants great success.

Then she reflected: ‘Which goddess shall I worship / for the sake of marital fortune, since other divine women worship me?

Therefore, filled with great devotion, inspired with enthusiasm through my own self, / I will worship my very own self for the sake of accomplishment.’

Then, with auspicious mantras from the Atharvaveda arising from the internal fire offering, / having brought together five lumps of clay in one place with a collected mind,

earth, water, fire, wind, and ether— / she placed these and united them in those lumps of clay.

Then the goddess, steadfast in her vow, worshipped these / five great elements with flowers, incenses, and ointments.

Now, knowing that Girijā was stationed there in austerity, Bhava, / his mind drawn by those mantras, quickly arrived.

And delighted in mind, he spoke: ‘Why have you come here, / leaving me, who am free from fault, attentive to your countenance, and ever affectionate?

Therefore, mount the bull and come with me to Kailāsa, / or else tell me the reason if there is any fault in me.’

The goddess said: / ‘You bear the Jāhnavī on your head, embodied as water from [Viṣṇu’s] foot; / therefore, I will by no means go to your abode

so long as you do not visibly abandon her who has become my co-wife. / Moreover, you continually bow down, O Bull-bannered Lord,

even before my very eyes every day to Sandhyā, and you feel no shame. / Therefore, give up this exceedingly shameful conduct!

If you summon me, O Lord, let it be according to my wish; / otherwise, I will by no means go to your palace. / Having heard this, do as you please, O Bull-bannered Lord!’

The Lord said: / ‘I do not bear the Gaṅgā for the sake of pleasure, O ruler of the gods!

I was entreatied by King Bhagīratha on behalf of his kinsmen, / after he performed severe austerity for a divine thousand years, [saying:]

“So that the Gaṅgā, fallen from heaven, does not go down to Pātāla, / therefore, O Lord, at my request, bear the Jāhnavī on your head!”

I promised him, “Without doubt I shall hold / the speed of the Jāhnavī falling from the sky upon the surface of the earth.”

Lest what exists in this realm should go to Pātāla. / Therefore, I shall explain it; listen here with a single-pointed mind:

This Gaṅgā, O lady of fair hips, issuing from my head, / cleaved Mount Himavat, and after that split into two.

Then, under the name Sindhu, it went to the western ocean, / gathering nine hundred rivers, O Parameśvarī;

likewise, that same river, under the name Gaṅgā, went to the eastern ocean, / taking along an equal number of rivers, O daughter of the mountain.

Thus, these eighteen hundred rivers, O daughter of the mountain, / flow into the ocean; because of this it always endures,

even though it is constantly being dried up day and night by the submarine fire. / Then, gathering the waters of the ocean, the clouds

rain down upon the mortal world; from that, grain is produced; / by grain, the world lives, and likewise sacrifices come into being; / through their share of sacrifices, all the gods attain satisfaction thereafter.

For this reason, O goddess, I bear the Gaṅgā on my head, / not out of attachment, nor out of desire, so that the world may function.

Alternatively, if I somehow let her go from my head, / cleaving far through the earth with her force, she will go to Rasātala.

Then the ocean, the lord of rivers, would swiftly dry up, / being swallowed by the Aurva fire here; from that, rain would not occur, / and from the absence of rain would come the destruction of the world. This is the truth that I have spoken.

This has been told to you by me concerning the Gaṅgā, O ruler of the gods; / listen now to something else concerning Sandhyā, why it is that I bow down to her.’

Thus ends the one hundred and thirtieth chapter, entitled ‘Description of the Origin of Pañcapiṇḍāgaurī,’ in the Māhātmya of the Sacred Field of Hāṭakeśvara, in the Nāgarakhaṇḍa, the sixth [part] in the Mahāpurāṇa of eighty-one thousand verses composed by Śrī Skanda.