All the ghosts danced and sang in light glee. They looked most bizarre and uttered all sorts of weird cries.

Like bridegroom, like procession; they indulged in gaieties of various kinds as they went along the road. Meanwhile, the pavilion erected by Himachala was so wonderful as to beggar description.

To as many mountains as existed in the world, great and small, more than man can count, and to the whole host of woods, seas, rivers and ponds, Himachala sent an invitation.

Capable of taking any form they liked, they assumed shapes of exquisite beauty and repaired to the house of Himalaya along with their retinues and fair consorts. They all lovingly sang songs of blessing.

The Mountain King had already caused a number of guest-chambers to be tastefully decorated; all the guests were lodged in them, each occupying a chamber according to his degree. The splendour of the city was so captivating that after a glance at it even Brahma’s architectural skill seemed contemptible.

A glance at the beauty of the city made the creative craft of Brahma pale into insignificance indeed. Groves and gardens, wells and ponds and rivers were all more lovely than words can tell. Every house was decorated with a number of triumphal arches, flags and buntings. Men and women of the city were so lovely and accomplished that they enraptured even the hearts of sages.

Can that city be described in which the Mother of the universe had become incarnate? Prosperity and success, wealth and happiness were ever on the increase there.