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After some time they find themselves on a deserted road flooded with sunlight. Because they are thirsty, Vishnu asks him to go a few hundred metres farther, where he sees a small village, and bring him water. Nārada hurries and knocks on the door of the first house he reaches.

A very beautiful girl opens the door. The ascetic gazes at her for a long time and forgets why he came. He enters the house, and the girl’s parents welcome him with the respect due to a holy man. Time passes; eventually Nārada marries the girl and comes to know the joys of marriage and simple village life. Twelve years pass. Nārada now has three children, and after the death of his father-in-law he becomes the owner of the household.

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But during the twelfth year the region is flooded by torrential rains. One night the herd drowns and the house collapses. With one hand Nārada holds his wife; with the other he carries two of his children, while the third is on his shoulders, and he struggles through the water. But the burden is too heavy. He slips, and the little child falls into the water.

Nārada lets go of the remaining two children and tries to find him, but it is already too late: the current has carried him far away. While he searches for the child, the waters swallow the other two children and soon his wife as well. Nārada himself falls and, unconscious, is carried by the current like a piece of wood. When he wakes, thrown onto a rock, he remembers his misfortune and begins to weep.

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Suddenly he hears a familiar voice: “My child! Where is the water you were supposed to bring me? I have been waiting here for at least half an hour!” Nārada turns his head and looks. Instead of the torrent that destroyed everything, he sees an empty field shining in the sun. “Now you understand the mystery of my māyā,” the god says.