The great sages of old have declared that Brahman, the ultimate reality, is formless and all-pervading. In the Vedas and Upaniṣads, it is sometimes described as being composed of pure light. Yet, when the Purusha is spoken of, he is depicted as having a thousand heads, eyes, hands, ears, faces, and feet—an image that suggests his vastness and omnipresence. The supreme space itself is said to be the foot of Viṣṇu, and the wise declare this realm to be pure, stainless, and peaceful. Some learned scholars call him the Supreme Person, while others say he is not one alone, but eternally the Lord and Master. Still, there are those who insist that this universe is without a Lord, not created by any master, and that its nature is ultimately inconceivable. According to certain teachings, the world arises from its own nature and remains ever thus; the non-agent man is named, and Prakṛti is said to be the feminine principle. These are the words of the Sāṅkhya sages, such as Kapila, and from their teachings arise many doubts and uncertainties. Caught in the midst of these conflicting views, the mind becomes afflicted—unable to remain steady regarding what is dharma (righteousness) and what is adharma (unrighteousness). The marks of dharma are not always clear. The gods, born of the quality of sattva, are established in truth and righteousness, yet they are oppressed by wicked Dānavas. Where, then, is the order of dharma? Even the Pāṇḍavas, my descendants, though established in dharma and good conduct, have encountered great suffering. What, then, is the state of dharma in their case? Thus, my heart trembles greatly in doubt. O great sage, free my mind from these doubts. Save me from the ocean of worldly existence with the boat of knowledge, for I am sinking, rising, and being submerged in the muddy waters of delusion. At this point, Vyāsa spoke: “O mighty-armed one, best of the Kurus, the questions you have asked me are the very questions that Nārada once answered for me when I, too, was troubled by such doubts.” Nārada had said: “Vyāsa, what shall I tell you? Long ago, this same doubt arose in my heart, and I was greatly troubled by uncertainty. I went to my father, Brahmā of immeasurable brilliance, and asked him the excellent question you now pose: ‘Father, from where did the entire universe arise? Was it created by you, or is it truly the work of Viṣṇu? Or was it made by Rudra, O Soul of the Universe? Tell me the truth, O Lord of the world. Who should be worshipped, who is the highest master? Tell me all this, O Brahman, and dispel my doubts, O sinless one. I am immersed in the world, full of suffering and resembling falsehood. My mind, shaken by doubt, finds no peace anywhere—not at holy places, not among the gods, nor in other practices. Without knowing the supreme truth, how can there be peace? The mind, scattered in many ways, does not attain steadiness in one place. Whom do I remember, whom do I worship, whom do I approach, whom do I honor? Whom do I praise? I do not know, O Lord, the Lord of all lords.’” Then Brahmā, the grandfather of the worlds, replied: “O child, you have asked a question that is extremely difficult. Even you, O most fortunate one, and certainly Viṣṇu, cannot answer it with certainty. No one who is attached knows in this world, but the detached, free from desire and envy, do know. Long ago, when the single ocean arose and all that was movable and immovable was destroyed, only the elements remained. I was born from the lotus. I did not see the sun, the moon, trees, or mountains. Seated in the lotus’s core, I began to ponder: ‘Why have I arisen in this vast ocean? Who is my protector, master, creator, or destroyer at the end of the age?’ The earth was not clearly visible, as water was its foundation. How did the lotus, renowned for its union of mud and growth, arise? I saw its mud and the root of the lotus. The earth would be there at its root, I thought. Rising in the water, for a thousand years I searched for the earth, but did not find it. Then, in the sky, a bodiless voice said, ‘Austerity, austerity.’ So I performed austerity in the lotus for a thousand years. Then, a voice arose again, which I heard: ‘Create!’ Bewildered, I listened—whom should I create, what should I do? At that time, the two fierce demons, Madhu and Kaitabha, appeared. Terrified by them, I fled to the ocean for battle. Unable to withstand them, I entered the midst of the waters; there I beheld a most wondrous Person. His body was dark as a rain-cloud, clothed in yellow garments, four-armed; the Lord of the universe, adorned with a garland of forest flowers, reclining on Śeṣa. Radiant with conch, discus, mace, and lotus and other weapons, I saw that great Viṣṇu, resting upon the serpent-bed. Overcome by yogic sleep, unmoving, the imperishable one lay there; seeing him reclining upon the coils of the serpent, a wondrous thought arose in me: ‘What should I do?’ Then I remembered and praised the Goddess, who is the very form of sleep. That auspicious Goddess emerged from his body and stood in the sky; her form was inconceivable, adorned with divine ornaments.” Thus, the doubts and questions of sages and seekers are handed down, and the story unfolds, revealing the wonder and mystery at the heart of creation.