Vyāsa, the son of Satyavatī, was wandering when he witnessed a remarkable display of affection among young birds. Their loving care for their offspring stirred deep thoughts within him. He pondered: if even animals show such love for their young, is it any wonder that humans, who seek rewards from their actions, should do the same? His mind wandered further: would these birds arrange a marriage for their chick, seeking its happiness and delighting in the bride’s beauty? When age overtakes them, would their son, righteous and dutiful, serve his parents for merit, as is proper even for birds? If the son acquired wealth, would he use it to satisfy his parents? Would he perform the prescribed funeral rites for them? Might he go to Gayā and offer ancestral offerings, performing the ritual of offering water for the departed? Vyāsa reflected that in this world, the greatest happiness is said to be the embrace and nurturing of a son. Without a son, there is no destiny, no heaven; a son is the only means to attain the next world. The scriptures of Manu and other sages declare that only one with a son attains heaven—there is no way for the sonless. This truth is directly seen, not inferred: a son frees one from sin—this is the eternal teaching. Even when ill or at the moment of death, a man without a son is troubled and anxious. His mind is filled with thoughts: “I have great wealth, many vessels, and a beautiful mansion—who will be its master?” At death, his mind wanders in sorrow, and so his fate is miserable, for his thoughts are utterly confused. Having considered these many concerns, Vyāsa sighed deeply and often, becoming despondent. After much reflection and firm resolve, he journeyed to perform austerities near Mount Meru. There, he pondered: which deity should I worship, who is skilled in granting boons and bestows what is desired? Should it be Viṣṇu, Rudra, Brahmā, the Sun, Gaṇeśa, Kārtikeya, Agni, or Varuṇa? As Vyāsa was immersed in these thoughts, the eminent sage Nārada, holding his vīṇā and serene in mind, arrived there by chance. Seeing Nārada, Vyāsa was delighted. He offered water for washing and a seat, and then inquired about the sage’s well-being. Nārada, hearing Vyāsa’s inquiry, asked, “Why are you troubled with care, Dvaipāyana? Tell me.” Vyāsa replied, “A man without a son has no future, nor happiness in his mind. For this reason I am distressed, and I keep thinking about it again and again. Today, I wish to propitiate by austerity some deity who grants the desired boon; troubled by this thought, I have come to you for refuge. You are all-knowing, O ocean of compassion; tell me quickly, to which god should I turn for refuge, who will grant me a son?” Sūta then narrates: Thus questioned by Vyāsa, the sage Nārada, knower of the Vedas, spoke to him with great affection about Kṛṣṇa. Nārada said, “O fortunate son of Parāśara, what you ask me now was once asked by my father to Madhusūdana. My father saw Hari absorbed in meditation and, amazed, questioned Śrīnātha, the master of the world. He saw Hari shining with the Kaustubha gem, holding conch, discus, and mace, clad in yellow garments, four-armed, and marked with the Śrīvatsa on his chest. He beheld Vāsudeva, the lord of the universe, cause of all worlds, god of gods, teacher of the world, engaged in great austerity. Brahmā asked, “O god of gods, lord of the universe, master of past, present, and future, why are you performing austerity, Janārdana? On whom are you meditating? This amazement of mine is very great: you are the lord of all worlds, yet you are engaged in meditation—what could be more astonishing than this? I, the creator of all, was born from the lotus of your navel; is there anyone greater than you? Tell me, O lord, who is that deity? I know you are the origin and cause of all; you are creator, protector, destroyer, and capable of all tasks. By my will, I create this universe; Hara destroys it at the proper time, and he too always acts according to your command. The sun moves in the sky, the wind blows, fire burns, and the rain-cloud pours—all by your order, O Lord. But you meditate on which god? This is my great doubt; I do not see any god beyond you in the three worlds. Out of compassion, tell me now, O virtuous one, for I am your devotee; it is remembered that the great do not usually conceal anything.” Hearing Brahmā’s words, Hari spoke: “Listen attentively, O Brahma, I will tell you what is in my mind. Although people—gods, asuras, and humans—know you, Shiva, and me as the causes of creation, preservation, and destruction, you are the creator, I am the sustainer, and Hara is the destroyer—such is the reasoning made by those learned in the Vedas, attributing these acts to our powers. In the creation of the world, the rajasik power abides in you, the sattvik in me, and the tamasik is said to be in Rudra.