Without knowledge of the supreme truth, how can peace ever be found, O scorcher of foes? The mind, scattered and restless, cannot attain steadiness in one place. In confusion, I wondered: Whom should I remember, whom should I worship, whom should I approach, whom should I honor, whom should I praise? O Lord, Lord of all lords, I do not know. Then Brahmā, the grandfather of the worlds, replied to me: “O son of Satyavatī, you have asked a question that is extremely difficult.” Brahmā continued, “What shall I say, O child? You have asked an excellent question, but it is hard to comprehend. Even you, O most fortunate one, and certainly even Viṣṇu, cannot answer it with certainty. In this world, no one who is attached knows; but the detached, free from desire and envy, do know.” Brahmā then recalled: “Long ago, when the single ocean arose and all that was movable and immovable was destroyed, only the elements remained, and I was born from the lotus. I did not see the sun, the moon, trees, or mountains. Seated in the lotus’s core, I pondered deeply: 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 this lotus, renowned for its union of mud and growth, arise? Today I see its mud and the root of the lotus. Surely, the earth will be at its root. Rising in the water, for a thousand years I searched for the earth, but did not find it. Then, from the sky, a bodiless voice called out: ‘Austerity, austerity.’ So I performed austerity seated in the lotus for a thousand years. Again, a voice arose: ‘Create!’ Bewildered, I listened—whom should I create, what should I do? At that moment, 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 waters and there 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, O Nārada: ‘What should I do?’ Then I remembered and praised the Goddess, who is the very form of sleep. That auspicious Goddess emerged from Viṣṇu’s 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, there itself the demons were slain; Rudra arrived there, 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. Today, in this celestial chariot, I shall show Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Śiva a wondrous sight.’ Hearing her words, we replied, ‘Om,’ and then we ascended and sat in the celestial chariot, adorned with jewels, draped with strings of pearls, and ringing with the sound of little bells. In that delightful chariot, resembling the mansions of the gods, the three of us entered without fear. Seeing us seated there, the Goddess, who had mastered her senses, gazed upon us. By her own power, the Goddess caused that chariot to rise up into the sky. From the chariot, together with Hara and the others, we beheld the Goddess. There were beautiful trees bearing all fruits, adorned with the songs of cuckoos; the earth, with its mountains, forests, and groves, was delightful. There were women and men, animals, sacred rivers, ponds, wells, reservoirs, marshes, and waterfalls. Before us appeared a splendid city, adorned with divine ramparts, equipped with sacrificial halls, and resplendent with various mansions. Upon seeing that city, we recognized it; someone said, ‘Is this heaven? Who created this wondrous place?’ We saw a king, radiant as a god, going out to hunt in the forest, while Ambika stood above us in the chariot.