The root "śara," the sages say, carries many meanings when considered in its parts. Now, listen as the ancient account unfolds: When a thousand yugas have passed and Brahmā’s day draws to its close, a great dissolution overtakes the cosmos. The fire that once blazed upon the surface of the earth is extinguished, and all creation is submerged in boundless waters. In this state, Brahmā, the mighty Person, presides over the world. Yet, within that single ocean, all that is movable and immovable disappears, leaving only the vast, undifferentiated waters. At such a time, the wise recite a verse in praise of Nārāyaṇa, remembering him as the one who pervades all. For when all is filled and merged together, he is called Nārāyaṇa—the thousand-armed, the first progenitor, the Person composed of the three Vedas. He is the golden-embryo, the great-souled one who arises beyond the reach of the mind. As the kalpa ends and darkness deepens, Time itself becomes supreme, devouring all that exists once again. Time, dividing himself threefold, moves through the three worlds. And once more, in that single ocean where all things have vanished, Brahmā—also known as Nārāyaṇa—shines forth in being. The sages dwelling in the world of Mahas behold him, Time, as he sleeps. As these great ones gaze on, the supreme principle, joined with Mahat (the Great Principle), is set into motion. From Mahat, owing to its quality of steadfastness, arise the great seers. The seven great seers, known from the previous cycle and beginning with Sattva, were brought forth at this time. These seers, upon their emergence, behold Time lying dormant. Because Brahmā creates the world through his imagination, this cycle of creation is called a Kalpa. All that is manifest and unmanifest in this world belongs to him, O great god. Yet, between manifestation and unmanifestation, there exists a prior state. Now, let me clearly explain how this Kalpa unfolds—listen attentively. At the end of the cosmic night, Brahmā acts once more for the sake of creation. In that ocean of darkness, when all things have been lost, and only the elements or pure existence remain through division, Brahmā, moved by desire and force, initiates creation with his own thought. Perceiving that the earth lies hidden within the waters, the god remembers the acts performed in previous Kalpas and repeats them. Desiring the earth, now covered by the waters, the Lord of creatures acts again. The oceanic beings fill the oceans, and the riverine ones fill the rivers. Before this creation, all had been consumed by the fire of dissolution. Those who had been joined by the wind from the mountains in the ocean—these are the mountains, called immovable by the sages, for they move with the earth itself. Then, the Lord lifts the earth up from the waters. He levels the uneven places with rocks all around and shapes the mountains. At the ends of each region, a multitude of mountains stand. The seven continents and their oceans encircle one another in turn. He creates the four worlds, beginning with Bhū, along with the moon, sun, and planets. For this cycle, Brahmā creates the stationary gods. He brings forth heaven, the directions, the oceans, all the rivers, and the mountains—thus, the world is formed anew.