When Vishnu, the Lord of all gods, Janardana, had finished speaking and grown silent, the great Shankara—Sharva himself—stood before the Goddess with deep reverence, ready to offer his praise. Brahma looked on as Shiva, with devotion in his heart, addressed the Divine Mother. Shiva spoke: “O Goddess, if Hari is truly your manifestation, and if the lotus-born Brahma too arises from you, then why should I not also be blessed with your virtues, O Shiva, you who are so skillful in creating all the worlds? You are the earth, the water, the air, the very space itself, and the essence of fire. O Mother, you are not only these elements and their instruments, but you are also the intellect, the mind, and the ego that pervades all. Those who claim that Hari, Hara, and others alone created the universe do not truly understand. It is your three forms that ceaselessly create all that moves and all that is still. This world, with its earth, air, space, fire, water, and their objects and qualities, exists only because of your power. Without even a fraction of your energy, O Mother, how could any of this be manifest? You are, in truth, all that exists—moving and unmoving—conceived in the forms of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Through your playful forms and wondrous displays, you create, delight, or withdraw, as you wish. Whenever I, Hari, or the lotus-born Brahma desire to create the worlds, O Ambika, we are only able to do so after receiving the dust of your lotus feet. If your heart were not always softened by compassion, O Mother, how could I be assigned the quality of darkness, Brahma the quality of passion, and Hari the quality of goodness? If your mind were not impartial, how would this world be so diverse—with ministers, kings, servants, the wealthy and the poor, all mingled together? It is your qualities alone that are capable in creation, preservation, and destruction. By your will, Hari, Hara, and the lotus-born are fashioned as the causes of the three worlds, each in their turn. I, Hari, and the lotus-born have explored all the worlds, traveling even in celestial vehicles, yet tell me, by whom are new worlds created? You, O Mother of the world, create and protect the universe, and destroy it as you wish by your own power. You ever delight your spouse, the Purusha, yet we cannot fathom your true path, O Shiva. O Mother, grant us the service of your lotus feet, even to us who have reached the state of youthful devotees. For even if one attains manhood, without your lotus feet, where could one find true happiness? O Mother, I desire nothing in this world if it means abandoning your lotus feet, O Shiva—not even if I were to gain a human body or the lordship of the three worlds. O beautiful one, I find no pleasure, even in youthful vigor, unless it is near you; how could manhood bring happiness if your feet are not within sight? O Ambika, may my fame always remain unsullied in the three worlds. Now, having attained youthfulness, I have come to know your lotus feet, which destroy the cycle of birth and death. Who, having abandoned the service of your presence on earth, would desire a kingdom free from troubles? Such prosperity soon fades, for without your lotus feet, it cannot last even an age. Pure sages, devoted to austerity but forsaking the worship of your lotus feet, O Mother, are deceived by fate; disgrace finds them even amidst prosperity. Liberation from the ocean of existence does not arise from austerity, self-restraint, meditation, or prescribed sacrifices as much as it does from devoted service to the dust of your lotus feet. O Goddess, if you are compassionate to me, show your mercy and reveal to me the wondrous, pure mantra. When I recited it before, I found happiness, and the supreme nine-lettered mantra shone forth. I attained it in my first birth, but now that mantra does not shine as before. Tell me, O Mother, that mantra today, so I may cross the ocean of existence—save me, save me, O Savior. Hearing Shiva’s plea, the Goddess, radiant with a wondrous brilliance, then clearly uttered the nine-lettered mantra. Upon receiving it, Mahadeva was filled with supreme joy; bowing to the Goddess’s feet, Shiva remained there, reciting the nine-lettered mantra that grants both desires and liberation, endowed with its seed and auspicious pronunciation. Seeing Shankara, the benefactor of the worlds, thus absorbed, I, Brahma, approached and spoke to the great Māyā, standing near her feet: The Vedas themselves cannot comprehend you in this way, O flawless bearer of all beings, and so they do not declare your greatness. You are the very essence of offerings, established in every sacrificial rite; thus, you have become the all-knowing Mother in the three worlds. I thought, ‘I am the creator; I perform everything, the entire wondrous universe. Who else, among moving and unmoving beings in the three worlds, is as capable as I?’ I considered myself blessed, without doubt, for I am Brahmā, transcending the worlds, yet immersed in the ocean of existence, overcome by pride. But today, by the dust of your lotus feet, my pride has fallen away. I am truly blessed, skilled in truthfulness by your grace. I beg you, O Lady, destroyer of the fear of existence, giver of liberation—remove the great chains of delusion and suffering, and make me devoted to you. How can I be liberated, I who am born from the lotus and revealed by you? Surely, I am your servant, obedient to your command. O Śivā, protect me, for I am immersed in delusion in the ocean of existence. Those humans who do not know you speak of me as the Lord, and of your pure, primordial conduct. Those priests who worship for heaven do not truly know your power, though they desire it. I am created by you, O Creator, to play and to shape the primordial creation in fourfold ways. I know this; who else could comprehend your supreme Māyā? Forgive my offense, born of ego. Those who strive in the eightfold path of yoga, established in meditation, do not know your name, nor that it bestows liberation, even when uttered by the Mother with intent. Those deluded ones, lost in the enumeration of ultimate principles and in endless inquiry, abandon your name. Are they not bewildered in the ocean of existence? O Bhavāni, you alone grant liberation from the cycle of worldly life. Those who have experienced the supreme knowledge of truth through the ancient ones—why do they abandon it? For even half a blink, your pure conduct—named Śivā, Ambikā, Śakti, Īśa—remains. Are you not capable of creating the universe, instantly dividing all into fourfold forms by your very glance? For your amusement, you have appointed me to this task of primordial creation, and thus I perform it as you wish. Is Hari the protector by your power, or was he preserved from Madhu and Kaiṭabha in the midst of the ocean? Was Hara destroyed by you at the proper time? How did he arise from the region between my brows? Your birth is neither seen nor heard anywhere; whence is your origin? No one knows. Surely, you are the primordial Śakti, O Bhavāni, independent of all; thus you are understood. By you, I am empowered to create; Hari is empowered by you to protect; Hara is empowered by you to destroy. Today, all are powerless without you. Just as I, Hari, and Shankara exist, so do others not arise, nor are they present here, nor will they be. Who is not bewildered in this exceedingly wondrous play of yours, the source of disputes among those of little desire? The primordial deity is indeed non-agent, manifest in qualities, inactive, always without attributes, and unchanging. Yet, O Lord, you have distributed this play, observing it well—so say those who truly know the ordinances.” Thus, in the presence of the Goddess, Hara and Brahma offered their profound praise, acknowledging her as the ultimate source and power behind all creation, preservation, and destruction, the true Mother of the worlds, beyond the reach of mind and word, yet ever the refuge and goal of those who seek liberation.