Let me tell you the story as revealed in these sacred verses. There are days which, for farmers, are considered most inauspicious—days when their hearts are heavy with worry. Yet, for those who are prepared, with seeds and implements at hand, these same days become a source of happiness and hope. Especially, however, for those whose homes are poorly covered, for the unfortunate, and for those who dwell in humble huts of grass and wood, such days bring sorrow to householders. For women whose husbands are away, these times are said to bring confusion and delusion. Indeed, all qualities, when situated in their own nature, can appear as their opposites. “My son,” the sage continues, “listen as I describe the characteristics of these qualities. Sattva is always light, illuminating, pure, and clear. When the limbs and senses, such as the eyes, are light, and the mind is pure and does not grasp at objects, then sattva is predominant in the body. But yawning, stiffness, drowsiness, and restlessness are signs of rajas. When rajas becomes predominant in someone, he seeks quarrels, desires to act, and wishes to go elsewhere. Such a restless mind is excessively eager for dispute. When there is obstruction—of the teacher or of desire—then that is tamas. At such times, the limbs become heavy and powerless, the senses and mind feel empty, and even sleep is not desired.” Thus, the sage explains to Nārada the marks of the three guṇas. Nārada, reflecting on these teachings, asks, “O Grandsire, you have described the guṇas as having distinct characteristics. How is it, then, that they, being established in one place, perform actions together? Though distinct and mutually opposed, they act together, like enemies united for a common cause. How do they, being together, accomplish any action? Please explain this to me.” Brahmā replies, “Listen, my son. The guṇas are like the elements of a lamp. Just as a lamp illuminates, the wick, oil, and flame are each opposed to the others—oil opposes fire, the wick opposes oil and fire—yet, when together, they reveal objects. In the same way, the guṇas, though distinct, act together to produce the world.” Nārada acknowledges, “Thus, O son of Satyavatī, the guṇas born of nature have been described. They are indeed the cause of the universe, as I have previously heard.” Vyāsa then affirms, “Nārada explained all this to me in detail—the characteristics and actions of the guṇas in all their divisions, and the supreme power by which all is pervaded. She is both with qualities and without qualities, always according to the difference of actions. The Puruṣa is non-agent, complete, indifferent, supreme, and imperishable.” This great Māyā creates the universe, both existent and non-existent, and empowers Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Rudra, Sūrya, Candra, and Indra, lord of Śacī. The Aśvins, Vasus, Tvaṣṭṛ, Kubera, Varuṇa, Agni, Vāyu, Pūṣā, Skanda the commander of the army, and Vināyaka—all act by her power. Without her, even these great beings would be powerless. She alone, O king, is the cause of the world, the supreme goddess. Therefore, worship her, O lord of men, and perform sacrifice. Worship her with supreme devotion, according to the prescribed methods. She is Mahālakṣmī, Mahākālī, and Mahāsarasvatī—the goddess of all beings, the cause of all causes, the giver of all desired objects, peaceful, easily served, and full of compassion. By merely uttering her name, she bestows the desired fruits. In the past, the gods—Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Maheśvara—worshipped her. Ascetics seeking liberation, self-controlled, worship her in various ways. Even if her name is spoken indistinctly or mentioned only incidentally, she grants the desired objects, even those exceedingly difficult to obtain. When one, terrified, cries out “ai ai!” upon seeing a tiger or some other beast in the forest, even that incomplete utterance brings her grace. In this regard, the example of Satyavrata is well known. This is evident to us, the sages of purified mind, in assemblies of Brahmins; the wise always cite his case as an illustration. I shall narrate to you, O king, all of this in detail as I have heard it. Satyavrata, by name, was a Brahmin, utterly ignorant and unlettered. Having heard a sacred syllable from the mouth of a Kolan, he then pronounced it himself. Due to the omission of a dot, by circumstance, he became a foremost among the wise. By uttering the vowel “ai,” the goddess was pleased at that time. The supreme Lady, moved by compassion, made him king of poets. Hearing this, Janamejaya, the king, asked, “Who is this Brahmin named Satyavrata, O best of the twice-born? In which land was he born, and what was he like? How did he hear the word, and how did he utter it again? What kind of attainment arose for that Brahmin at that very moment? How was Bhavani, the all-knowing, all-pervading, pleased? Please narrate this delightful story to me in detail today.” Thus questioned by the king, Sūta said, Vyāsa, son of Satyavatī, spoke words most noble, full of flavor and purity. Vyāsa said, “Listen, O king, I shall relate a sacred ancient tale, which I heard before in an assembly of sages, O descendant of the Kurus. Once, O best of Kurus, while I was undertaking pilgrimage to holy places, I arrived at the Naimisha forest, sanctified and frequented by sages. Having bowed to all the sages, I remained there in the excellent hermitage, where the sons of Brahma, liberated while living, observed great vows. There, in the gathering of Brahmins, a conversation arose; Jamadagni then questioned the sages, having taken his seat.” Thus begins the sacred tale, its wisdom flowing from one sage to another, from heart to heart, so that all might know the glory of the Supreme Goddess and the subtle workings of her power.