At the dawn of auspicious celebration, the eternal Viṣṇu performed worship at many sacred places. The Vedas themselves, along with their profound secrets, sang and laughed in joy, filling the air with divine melody. All the apsarases danced gracefully, while the gandharvas and kinnaras sang celestial songs. Maināka, foremost among sages, held grains of rice, preparing for the sacred rites. Within the inner chamber, the auspicious invocation was completed, and the divine couple sat upon the altar. The fire and the stone were properly established, and the grains were offered according to tradition. After these rites, they circumambulated the altar, honoring the sacred ceremony. As the goddess touched the stone, prompted by Viṣṇu, Śaṃbhu touched her thumb and her right foot. Nearby, I—Brahmā—was performing the offering beside Hara. Upon seeing her thumb, my mind became disturbed, and my seed was involuntarily discharged. Ashamed and feeling defiled, I crushed the spilled seed, and from that crushed, subtle seed, the Vālakhilya sages were born. Suddenly, a great outcry arose among the gods, echoing through the heavens. Humiliated by my shame, I left my seat. As the assembly of gods watched in silence, Mahādeva saw my departure and spoke to Nandin, saying, “Summon Brahmā here; I will make him free from sin. Even when one errs, the virtuous, being compassionate, forgive. Even the wise are deluded by sense objects—such is the way of the world.” With these words, the blessed Śiva, together with Umā, out of compassion for me and for the welfare of all worlds, resolved to act with great care. For the liberation of sinners from sin, he declared that the earth would become water. He gathered the purest essence from himself and Umā, and made the earth into a water-pot. He placed water within it and sanctified it with hymns like the Pavamāna. Remembering the power that purifies the three worlds and destroys sin, the Lord of the world said to me, “Take this water-pot. Waters are indeed divine mothers, and earth is another mother; both are the causes of creation, sustenance, and dissolution. Here abides righteousness, here is the eternal sacrifice; here are enjoyment and liberation, as well as all that is immovable and moving. By remembering, mental sin is destroyed; by speech, verbal sin; and by bathing, drinking, or anointing, even bodily sin is removed. This alone is nectar in the world; nothing is purer than this. I have sanctified it, O Brahman—take this water-pot. Whoever remembers or recites the water here attains all desires—take this water-pot. From the five elements, water is proclaimed the greatest; among them, this is the most excellent—take this water-pot. Whatever water here is beautiful, holy, and purifying—by touching, remembering, or seeing it, O Brahman, you will be freed from sin.” Having spoken thus, Mahādeva gave me the water-pot. All the hosts of gods, filled with devotion, addressed the Lord of gods, and a great joy and cry of victory arose. Later, during the festival of the gods, the unborn one—myself, Brahmā—saw my mother’s feet and again fell into sin. Out of compassion, my father gave me the purifying Gaṅgā, dwelling in the sacred water-pot, so that simply by remembrance, purification could be attained. O Lord, the goddess who dwells in the water-pot increases your merit. Tell me in detail how she came to the world of mortals. There was a great demon named Bali, unconquered foe of the gods, who ruled with righteousness, fame, and protected his subjects. Through devotion to his teacher, truthfulness, strength, power, generosity, and forgiveness, Bali was unequalled in the three worlds. Seeing his rising prosperity, the gods became anxious and discussed among themselves, “How shall we defeat Bali?” While Bali ruled the three worlds, free from all obstacles, there were no enemies, no diseases, nor any misfortune whatsoever. There was no drought, no unrighteousness, no talk of atheism, nor any wicked person; not even in dreams was such seen while Bali ruled the kingdom. His prideful arrows were shattered, his sword of fame broken; the gods, their limbs struck by his command and power, found no peace. Setting aside envy, the gods deliberated together. Their bodies blazed with the fire of Bali’s glory, and, deeply troubled, they went to Viṣṇu. “We are afflicted, our strength is gone, O bearer of conch, discus, and mace; for our sake, you always wield your weapons. With you as Lord, O Lord of the universe, how can we suffer such distress? If our speech bows to you, how can it honor a demon? In mind, deed, and word, we have taken refuge in you alone; seeking shelter at your feet, how can we bow to a demon? We worship you with great sacrifices, we praise you with words, O Acyuta; being devoted to you alone, how can we bow to a demon? The gods, led by Indra, always rely on your power; having attained the position you granted, how can we bow to a demon? You are the creator in the form of Brahmā, you protect as Viṣṇu, and you destroy with Rudra’s power; how can we bow to a demon? Sovereignty is the cause in the world; what is the use of powerlessness? Deprived of dominion, O Lord of gods, how can we bow to a demon? You are beginningless, the sustainer of the world; you are infinite, the teacher of the universe. How can we bow to a demon, our enemy who is finite?” Thus, the gods pleaded with Viṣṇu, seeking relief from their distress and the restoration of cosmic order.