Now, one night, the god saw certain Apsarases, that had come to bathe in that holy pool of Mahákála, and he gave this command to Ṭhiṇṭhákarála, “While all these nymphs of heaven are engaged in bathing, quickly snatch up the clothes, which they have laid on the bank, and bring them here; and do not give them back their garments, until they surrender to you this young nymph, named Kalávatí.”[9]
“When Ṭhiṇṭhákarála had received this command from Bhairava, he went and carried off the garments of those heavenly beauties, while they were bathing; and they said to him, “Give us back our garments, please; do not leave us naked.” But he answered them, confident in the power which Śiva gave, “If you will give me the young nymph Kalávatí, I will give you back these garments, but not otherwise.” When they heard that, seeing that he was a stubborn fellow to deal with, and remembering that Indra had pronounced a curse of this kind upon Kalávatí, they agreed to his demand. And on his giving back the garments, they bestowed on him, in due form, Kalávatí the daughter of Alambushá.
Then the Apsarases departed, and Ṭhiṇṭhákarála remained there with that Kalávatí in a house built by the wish of Śiva. And Kalávatí went in the day to heaven to attend upon the king of the gods, but at night she always returned[10] to her husband. And one day she said to him in the ardour of her affection, “My dear, the curse of Śiva, which enabled me to obtain you for a husband, has really proved a blessing.” Thereupon her husband Ṭhiṇṭhákarála asked her the cause of the curse, and the nymph Kalávatí thus answered him:
“One day, when I had seen the gods in a garden, I praised the enjoyments of mortals, depreciating the pleasures of the dwellers in heaven, as giving joys that consist only in seeing.[11] When the king of the gods heard that, he cursed me, saying, ‘Thou shalt go and be married by a mortal, and enjoy those human pleasures.’ In this way has come about our union that is mutually agreeable. And to-morrow I shall return to heaven after a long absence; do not be unhappy about it; for Rambhá is going to dance a new piece before Vishṇu, and I must remain there, my beloved, until the exhibition is at an end.”
Then Ṭhiṇṭhákarála, whom love had made like a spoiled child, said to her, “I will go there and look at that dance unperceived, take me there.” When Kalávatí heard that, she said, “How is it fitting for me to do this? The king of the gods might be angry, if he found it out.” Though she said this to him, he continued to press her; then out of love she agreed to take him there.
So the next morning Kalávatí by her power concealed Ṭhiṇṭhákarála in a lotus, which she placed as an ornament in her ear, and took him to the palace of Indra. When Ṭhiṇṭhákarála saw that palace, the doors of which were adorned by the elephant of the gods, which was set off by the garden of Nandana, he thought himself a god, and was highly delighted. And in the court of Indra, frequented by gods, he beheld the strange and delightful spectacle of Rambhá’s dance, accompanied by the singing of all the nymphs of heaven. And he heard all the musical instruments played by Nárada and the other minstrels; for what is hard to obtain in this world if the supreme god[12] is favourable to one?
Then, at the end of the exhibition a mime, in the shape of a divine goat, rose up, and began to dance with heavenly[13] movements. And Ṭhiṇṭhákarála, when he saw him, recognized him, and said to himself, “Why, I see this goat in Ujjayiní, figuring as a mere animal, and here he is dancing as a mime before Indra. Of a truth this must be some strange incomprehensible heavenly delusion.” While Ṭhiṇṭhákarála was going through these reflections in his mind, the dance of the goat-mime came to an end, and then Indra returned to his own place. And then Kalávatí, in high spirits, also took back Ṭhiṇṭhákarála to his own home, concealed in the lotus-ornament of her ear.
And the next day Ṭhiṇṭhákarála beheld in Ujjayiní that goat-formed mime of the gods, who had returned there, and he insolently said to him, “Come, dance before me, as you dance before Indra. If you do not, I shall be angry with you; show off your dancing powers, you mime.” When the goat heard this, he was astonished, and remained silent, saying to himself, “How can this mere mortal know so much about me?” But when, in spite of persistent entreaties, the goat refused to dance, Ṭhiṇṭhákarála beat him on the head with sticks.
Then the goat went with bleeding head to Indra, and told him all that had taken place. And Indra by his supernatural powers of contemplation discovered the whole secret, how Kalávatí had brought Ṭhiṇṭhákarála to heaven when Rambhá was dancing, and how that profane fellow had there seen the goat dancing. Then Indra summoned Kalávatí, and pronounced on her the following curse, “Since, out of love, thou didst secretly bring here the man who has reduced the goat to this state, to make him dance, depart and become an image on a pillar in the temple built by king Narasinha in the city of Nágapura.”
When Indra had said this, Alambushá, the mother of Kalávatí, tried to appease him, and at last he was with difficulty appeased, and he thus fixed an end to the curse, “When that temple, which it has taken many years to complete, shall perish and be levelled with the ground, then shall her curse come to an end.” So Kalávatí came weeping and told to Ṭhiṇṭhákarála the curse Indra had pronounced, together with the end he had appointed to it, and how he himself was to blame, and then, after giving him her ornaments, she entered into an image on the front of a pillar in the temple in Nágapura.