Assuming the form of a divine consort, the goddess herself appeared as the very cause of creation. In reverence, salutations were offered to Mahādeva, the great Lord, together with her. By his grace and command, I—Brahmā—had brought forth all these beings, gods and others alike; yet, through the wondrous power of his yoga-māyā, they had become deluded, unable to perceive the truth. Desiring their restoration, I prayed to the Lord of gods: “Bestow your favor upon them, so they might return to their former state.” Thus, O sages, I informed the Supreme Lord. Turning to the gods, who stood motionless and bewildered—unable even to recognize Śaṃkara—I addressed them with compassion: “Let us swiftly seek refuge in Maheśvara, together, to the supreme, imperishable soul, the Lord of gods.” Hearing this, all those immobilized denizens of heaven bowed in their minds to Śarva, their hearts purified by devotion. Pleased by their sincerity, Maheśvara, the god of gods, swiftly restored the deities’ forms, making them as they were before. In that moment, as all the gods’ restraint was being lifted, the Lord of gods revealed a wondrous form—three-eyed, radiant and awe-inspiring. Overwhelmed by his brilliance, the gods closed their eyes. But the Lord, in his compassion, granted them a supreme vision, empowering them to behold his own divine form. Thus blessed, they gazed upon the all-pervading Supreme Lord, bearing the third eye. The gods, led by Śakra and all the celestial lords, fixed their gaze upon him. In their midst, the goddess herself was filled with delight. She placed a garland, resplendent with immeasurable brilliance, at his feet, while all the gods cried out in joy, “Excellent, excellent!” once more praising the Lord. Together with the goddess, the gods bowed deeply, their heads touching the earth. In that sacred moment, O Brahmins, I, too, along with the gods, addressed the Lord. Turning to Himavat, the great and radiant mountain, I spoke: “You are praiseworthy, worthy of worship and reverence—among all, you are truly great. Since you have formed such a noble alliance with Śarva, let this splendid wedding be arranged; why, O noble one, is there any hesitation?” Himavat, bowing with humility, replied: “O god, you alone are the cause of all my prosperity; by your grace, everything has arisen, and you alone are the reason. As for the wedding, let it be as you see fit, O Grandfather.” Having heard these words of the king of mountains, I said to the Lord, “Let the wedding be performed, O god.” Śaṅkara replied, “As you wish, O Lord of the worlds.” And at that very moment, O Brahmins, we created a magnificent city for the wedding of Maheśa. This city was adorned with every kind of gem—jewels, precious stones, gold, and pearls. Manifest beings arrived and decorated it splendidly; its ground shimmered with variegated emerald, and golden pillars rose high. Its crystal walls shone, draped with strings of pearls, and at its beautiful gate, a grand wedding pavilion was constructed. In that city, the great-souled Lord of gods, Maheśa, shone with glory, as the sun and moon together illuminated its brilliance. A fragrant, delightful breeze, sweet-scented and gentle, wafted through, as if expressing devotion to Bhava. There gathered the four oceans, the foremost gods like Indra, divine rivers and great rivers, Siddhas, and sages. All the Gandharvas and Apsarases, Nāgas, Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, beings of the waters, those who move in the sky, Kinnaras, and divine Cāraṇas were present. Tumburu, Nārada, Hāhā, Hūhū, and the singers of Sāma came, bringing delightful instruments to fill the air with music. The sages, rich in austerity, recited ancient stories and Vedic hymns, joyfully chanting the sacred wedding mantras. All the mothers of the world and the divine maidens, their hearts brimming with joy, sang at the wedding of the Supreme Lord. The six seasons themselves appeared, each embodied and bearing various fragrant delights, declaring, “This is Śaṅkara’s wedding.” Peacocks, dark as rainclouds, danced everywhere, calling out joyfully, thrilled by the sound of the mantras. Cranes, white as water-lily crests, adorned the scene, flashing like clear lightning, restless and tawny. The city was beautiful with fresh shoots from creepers, trees, and young bamboo, resounding with the loud calls of great frogs awakened by the loving touch of auspicious rainclouds. The proud hearts of passionate women, angered with their beloveds, were instantly softened and their pride dissolved by the enchanting, momentary cries of peacocks. Everywhere, the city was brilliantly adorned by the radiant, beautiful form of the rainbow, twisted like the crescent moon, shining near the masses of rainclouds. Delightful, fragrant breezes, cooled by rain-filled clouds, shook the lovely tresses of celestial women with their flower-scented moisture. With the moon’s disk hidden by roaring clouds, the fresh, rain-soaked grass was gazed upon with longing by the wives of travelers, their sighs smoky with yearning. The air was rich with the sound of swan-anklets, with uplifted breasts, garlands flashing like lightning, and eyes clear and lotus-like. The rainy season itself seemed to arrive at the mountain maiden’s wedding, its beauty enhanced by the fragrance of flowers, the bodies of swans startled by the deep rumble of dark clouds, pure streams lifting up lotuses, and every limb adorned with golden pollen. As the clouds parted, her breasts blossomed like lotus buds, the jingling of swan-anklets resounded, and abundant crops filled every direction. With broad, sandy banks as hips, girdled by the cooing of cranes, and captivating with eyes as dark as blooming blue lotuses, the scene was set for the divine union—the wedding of Śiva and the mountain’s radiant daughter—amidst the joy and blessings of all the worlds.