This is the first time Vishvamitra tells his own story, and it begins with tenderness: a brother who lives by a river because the river is his sister. The image of a devoted wife becoming a river that blesses the world (verses 8 to 11) is typical of how Indian sacred geography turns people into places, so that a pilgrim bathing in the Kaushiki (today’s Kosi) touches a family memory.

Then the poet does something he rarely does in the Bala Kanda: he stops for a nocturne (verses 15 to 18). Still trees, hidden birds, the starry sky like a field of eyes, the rising moon gladdening living things. Valmiki is called the first poet not only for the story but for moments like this, when description itself becomes feeling.