“O crest-jewel of givers and most gracious Lord,” said Manu, “I tell you my sincere wish; I would have a son like you. Can anything be hid from the Lord?”

On seeing his devotion and hearing his priceless words, the compassionate Lord said, “So be it! But where shall I go to seek my equal? I myself, O king, shall come and be your son.”

Then, seeing Shatarupa with her hands still folded, he said, “O good lady, ask whatever boon you please.” “O gracious Lord,” she replied, “the boon which the wise king has just asked is what I too should most desire.

But it is a presumptuous request, my Lord, even though such presumption is liked by you, O friend of your votaries. For you are the father even of Brahma and the other gods, master of the universe, the Supreme Being who knows the secrets of all hearts.

Realizing this, my mind is filled with doubt; and yet the Lord’s words cannot fail. O Lord, the bliss that is enjoyed by your own votaries, the liberation they attain-

-grant me in your mercy, O Lord, that very bliss, the same liberation, the same faith, the same devotion to your feet, the same wisdom and the same mode of living.”

Hearing this modest, profound and charming speech, the ocean of grace gently replied, “whatever your heart desires, that I have granted; doubt not.