Having spoken thus, the blessed Lord Śiva, accompanied by the gracious Umā, was moved by compassion—for my sake and for the welfare of all the worlds. Out of his great care, O Nārada, Śiva resolved to bring about the liberation of sinners, so that even the earth itself would become water, washing away the stains of sin. With this intent, the Lord gathered the purest essence from both earth and water. He fashioned the earth into a water-pot, filled it with sanctified water, and consecrated it with sacred hymns such as the Pavamāna. In that holy moment, Śiva remembered the divine power that purifies the three worlds and destroys all sin. Then, turning to me, he said, “Take this water-pot.” He explained, “Waters are indeed divine mothers, and earth is another mother; together they are the causes of creation, sustenance, and dissolution. Here, within this vessel, abides righteousness and the eternal sacrifice; here are enjoyment and liberation, and all that is immovable and moving. By remembering this water, mental sin is destroyed; by speaking of it, verbal sin is removed; and by bathing in it, drinking, or anointing with it, even bodily sins are washed away. 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 even recites the virtues of this water attains all desires—take this water-pot. Of the five elements, water is proclaimed the greatest; and among all waters, 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 placed the sanctified water-pot in my hands. At that moment, all the hosts of gods, filled with devotion, praised the Lord of gods with cries of joy and victory. Later, during a festival of the gods, the unborn one—Brahmā—beholding his mother’s feet, fell into sin. Out of compassion, his father Śiva bestowed upon him the purifying Gaṅgā, who dwelled in that sacred water-pot, so that even by mere remembrance, one could be cleansed. O Lord, the goddess who abides in the water-pot increases your merit. Tell me, then, how did she descend to the world of mortals? In ancient times, there was a mighty demon named Bali, unconquered by the gods, who ruled with righteousness and fame, protecting his subjects with justice. Through devotion to his teacher, truthfulness, strength, generosity, and forgiveness, Bali was unequalled in the three worlds. Observing his ever-increasing prosperity, the gods grew anxious and wondered among themselves, “How can we defeat Bali?” While Bali ruled the three worlds, there were no enemies, no diseases, no misfortune. There was no drought, no unrighteousness, no atheism, nor any wickedness—not even in dreams—while Bali was king. The prideful arrows of the gods were shattered, and their fame diminished; their limbs bore the marks of his power, and they found no peace. Setting aside envy, the gods deliberated together, their bodies burning with the fire of Bali’s glory. Deeply troubled, they approached Viṣṇu, saying, “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 our Lord, how can we suffer such distress? If our prayers are for you, how can we honor a demon? In mind, deed, and word, we take refuge only in you. Seeking shelter at your feet, how can we bow to a demon? We worship you with great sacrifices, we praise you alone, O Acyuta; being devoted to you, how can we bow to a demon? The gods, led by Indra, rely on your power; having received our positions from you, how can we bow to a demon? You are the creator as Brahmā, the protector as Viṣṇu, and the destroyer as Rudra; how can we bow to a demon? Sovereignty is the cause in the world; what use is powerlessness? Deprived of dominion, O Lord of gods, how can we bow to a demon? You are beginningless, the sustainer and teacher of the universe. How can we bow to a demon, our finite enemy? Strengthened by your might, we conquered the three worlds; may we remain steadfast, O Lord of gods—how can we bow to a demon?” Hearing these words, Viṣṇu, the slayer of the Daityas, spoke to the immortals for the accomplishment of their purpose: “That Daitya, Bali, is my devotee; he cannot be slain by gods or demons. Just as you are nourished by me, so is Bali. Without battle, I will bind Bali by means of a mantra, and having subdued him, I will restore your kingdom of heaven.” The gods, satisfied, replied, “So be it,” and returned to their heavenly abodes. The blessed Lord of gods then entered the womb of Aditi. As he was being born, all the worlds rejoiced; he was born as Vāmana, O Brahman, the Lord of sacrifice, the very personification of the sacrifice. Meanwhile, Bali, the best among the strong, was consecrated for a horse-sacrifice, attended by the foremost sages. His priest, Śukra—knower of the Vedas and their branches—was present at the sacrifice. For the sake of the sacrificial offerings, Śukra, chief among officiating sages, was surrounded by gods, Gandharvas, and Nāgas. The ritual proceeded fully and separately, with the repeated proclamation: “Let it be given, let it be enjoyed, let worship be performed,” in perfect completeness.