Troubled by the suffering he had witnessed, the noble one’s heart quivered with doubt. He wondered anxiously about the true state of dharma amid such hardship. Seeking clarity, he turned to the great sage, imploring, “Please, make my mind free from doubt. You alone are capable of saving me from this vast ocean of worldly existence with the boat of knowledge. As I sink, rise, and am submerged in the muddy waters of delusion, I need your guidance.” Vyāsa responded, “O mighty-armed one, your questions echo those I once posed to Nārada, the sage of divine wisdom.” Nārada, recalling his own journey, spoke: “Vyāsa, what shall I tell you? Long ago, this very doubt troubled me deeply. My heart was restless, uncertain. Seeking answers, I approached my father, Brahmā—the radiant creator—and asked him the same question you now ask me.” Nārada recalled his words: “Father, from where did the universe arise? Was it created by you, or is it truly the work of Viṣṇu? Or perhaps Rudra, O Soul of the Universe? Please, tell me the truth. Who should be worshipped? Who is the highest master? Dispelling my doubts, O sinless one, tell me all. I am immersed in this world, full of suffering and illusion. My mind, shaken by doubt, finds no peace anywhere—not at holy places, not among the gods, nor in any practice. Without knowing the supreme truth, how can there be peace? The mind, scattered in many directions, does not attain steadiness. 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.” Brahmā, the grandfather of the worlds, replied: “O child, your question is extremely difficult. Even you, O most fortunate one, and certainly Viṣṇu, cannot answer it with certainty. In this world, only the detached and free from desire and envy truly know; those who are attached do not. Long ago, when the single ocean arose and all that was movable and immovable was destroyed, only the elements remained. From the lotus, I was born. I saw no sun, no moon, no trees, no mountains. Seated in the lotus’s core, I pondered: 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, for water was its foundation. How did the lotus arise, renowned for its union of mud and growth? I saw its mud and root, and knew the earth must be at its root. Rising in the water, I searched for the earth for a thousand years, but found nothing. Then, a bodiless voice echoed in the sky: ‘Austerity, austerity.’ So I performed austerity in the lotus for a thousand years. Again, a voice arose: ‘Create!’ Bewildered, I wondered whom should I create, what should I do? At that time, two fierce demons, Madhu and Kaitabha, appeared. Terrified, 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. Leaving Viṣṇu’s body, she shone forth, standing in the heavens. By her, Janārdana was freed, his unconquerable self arose. For five thousand years, he waged a supreme battle. Then, seeing the demons, Hari struck them down. Making the place pure, they were slain there; Rudra arrived, where both Viṣṇu and I were present. We three beheld the charming, tranquil Goddess. Praised, the supreme Power spoke to us as we stood there. With glances of compassion, she made us joyful and pure, then said, ‘O Lords of creation, perform your respective tasks with diligence. The great demons are slain; create, sustain, and establish your own abodes, and dwell there free from distress. Create all four kinds of beings with your own powers.’ Hearing her gentle, pleasing, and sweet words, we said to her, ‘How can we create these beings? O Mother, the earth is not spread out; everywhere there is only water. There are no beings, no qualities, no subtle elements, nor senses.’ Hearing our words, she smiled, her face radiant. Suddenly, a splendid aerial chariot arrived from the sky. She said, ‘O gods, enter as you wish, free from fear.