At the time of dissolution, when everything had returned to its primordial state, the world was shrouded in darkness, and only flickers of existence remained—like fireflies glimmering here and there in the night. In this vast stillness, the nature and support of the earth could only be discerned by inference, without confusion, as if one were seeking out the subtle foundation upon which all rests. It was then that the great soul, with a focused and powerful mind, conceived of a divine form. He pondered: “In what form, having created it, shall I lift the earth from the engulfing waters?” The answer came as a vision—a form visible to all beings, composed of sacred speech, and known as Brahman. This form was wondrous to behold: its body resembled a dark, rain-laden cloud, and its voice echoed like thunder across the heavens. It shone with the brilliance of lightning and fire, radiating with the splendor of the sun itself. Its hips were broad and prominent, marked with the honored signs of the bull, signifying strength and sacredness. With this form, created for the very purpose of uplifting the earth, the great being entered the netherworld. His tongue was fire, his hair was like sacred darbha grass, his head was Brahma himself, and his entire being was suffused with the power of great austerity. His resplendent body was aligned with the eastern direction, adorned with the marks of various sacred initiations. He glowed with the aura of ritual commencement, wearing the ring of the Pravargya sacrifice as an ornament. Accompanied by his illusory consort, Māyā, he stood tall and unshakable, like a mountain peak rising above the world. His fragrance was that of clarified butter, his mouth shaped like a ladle, and his voice resonated with the melodious chant of the Sāman hymns. His nails held the power of expiation, his demeanor was fierce, his knees were as the sacrificial animals, and his entire being embodied the great sacrifice itself. He was the inner sound of the sacrificial music, transcending flesh and blood, and existed in pure essence. Desiring to recover the earth, which was now covered by fire, he approached Prajāpati, the Lord of Creatures. Separating the elements distinctly, he arranged the mountains upon the earth. Those mountains, melted by the primal fire, were scattered across the land, and wherever they came to rest, a mountain arose. At the beginning of each cosmic cycle, Viśvakarman, the divine architect, would divide and arrange these mountains anew. In this way, he repeatedly ordered the four worlds, beginning with Bhū, the earthly realm. Brahmā, the self-born Lord, then desired to create various beings. As he contemplated this creation, his deliberate thought brought forth its manifestation. But what first emerged was darkness: confusion, great delusion, deep gloom, and what is called blind ignorance. This creation existed in fivefold form, meant for those absorbed in meditation and pride. It lacked illumination both outwardly and inwardly, and was devoid of true consciousness. From this darkness came beings with their true selves concealed—these were the principal trees, the first forms of life. Their minds were unable to perceive, and they regarded this state of darkness as the very origin of their birth. Because the flow of their existence turned sideways, it came to be known as having a transverse current. Those beings, who produced and grasped, considered themselves knowledgeable, but their wisdom was shrouded in ignorance. Within them were the eleven kinds of senses and the ninefold forms of the self. All these faculties shone inwardly, yet were covered outwardly once more. These beings, with their transverse currents, were called self-controlled, possessing a threefold consciousness. Observing this kind of creation—arising from intention—the Lord recognized its nature. Then came the third type of current, the upward current, which was established above. Beings of this type abounded in happiness and delight, covered both outwardly and inwardly in bliss. These ninefold forms were remembered as wise, possessing contented and satisfied selves. When these upward-current beings were created among the gods, the Lord, seeing the need for further diversity, once again desired to bring forth another creation—one that would be effective and purposeful.