In the sacred dialogue, Vishnu addresses Brahma with profound humility, revealing the absolute dependence of even the greatest gods upon the Goddess, Shakti. He says, “Deprived of her, you cannot create, nor can I preserve, nor can Shankara (Shiva) destroy. We all, O Lord, are always dependent on her—in both the visible and invisible realms. Let me give you an example, O virtuous one.” Vishnu continues, “I sleep upon the great serpent Shesha, entirely dependent, and by her will alone I awaken at the proper time, subject to the flow of time. I practice austerities, always reliant on her; sometimes, with Lakshmi, I wander freely. At other times, I wage fierce battles with the Daityas, crushing their bodies and terrifying all the worlds. You, knower of dharma, have witnessed directly that long ago, in the vast ocean, I fought hand-to-hand for five thousand years. The two wicked asuras, Madhu and Kaitabha, born from earwax and swollen with pride, were slain only by the grace of the Goddess.” Vishnu asks Brahma, “Did you not know the ultimate cause at that time? O greatly fortunate one, why do you ask again and again about the nature of Shakti? Whenever I wish, I take human form and wander the great ocean—as a tortoise, a boar, a lion, or a dwarf, in every age. No one desires birth among animals; nor did I, of my own will, take birth in the forms of boar or others. Who, abandoning union with the highest, would choose inferior births such as fish? Leaving my bed, seated upon the Garuda throne, I wage great battles, acting independently.” He recalls, “O unborn one, once before, my head fell forward due to the slipping of the bowstring. At that time, you took the horse’s head and, with the best artisan, joined it again. I am called Hayānana, the horse-faced one, and this is evident to you, creator of the worlds. People mock this, but how could it happen if I were self-dependent? Therefore, I am not independent; I am always subject to Shakti. I constantly and ceaselessly meditate upon her alone. O lotus-born, I know nothing higher than this.” Narada, present at this exchange, speaks to Vyasa: “Thus did Vishnu speak in the presence of Brahma. And thus I too was addressed, O foremost sage. Therefore, you also, O auspicious one, to attain the goals of life, without doubt, worship the lotus feet of the Goddess in the lotus of your heart. She will grant you whatever you desire.” Suta then narrates, “Thus addressed by Narada, Vyasa, son of Satyavati, immersed himself in the lotus feet of the Goddess and went to the mountain for austerity.” The sages, filled with wonder, now ask Suta about the incarnation of Hayagriva: “O Suta, our minds are immersed in the ocean of doubt. As you have said, this is a great wonder, causing astonishment in the world. The head of Madhava departed from his body and became supreme; from that, Hayagriva was born—Janardana, the creator of all. Even the Vedas praise that God, upon whom all the gods depend, the primordial deity, Lord of the universe, the cause of all causes. How was his head cut off by divine arrangement at that time? Tell us all this in detail, O wise one.” Suta responds, inviting all the sages to listen: “Once, after waging a fierce battle for ten thousand years, the eternal god Janardana became exhausted. In that auspicious place, the Lord made a lotus seat, holding a strung bow, resting it at his neck, and sat upon the earth. Placing the weight on the tip of the bow, the Lord of Lakshmi fell asleep; due to exhaustion and divine arrangement, he became deeply asleep there.” After some time, all the gods, including Indra, Brahma, and Shiva, gathered to perform a sacrifice. They went to Vaikuntha to seek Janardana, the lord of sacrifices, for their divine purpose. Not finding him there, they used the eye of knowledge and discovered where Vishnu was. They found him, unconscious, overcome by yogic sleep, and stood before him in concern. While the Lord of the world lay asleep, Brahma, Shiva, and the gods became anxious. Indra spoke: “What should be done, O best of gods? Let us consider how the sleep may be broken.” Shiva replied, “There is a fault in breaking the sleep, yet the work of the sacrifice must be accomplished, O best of gods.” Then Brahma created a termite, instructing it to eat the tip of the bow resting on the ground. “When the tip is eaten, the bow will descend; then the Lord of gods will be freed from sleep. All the work of the gods will be accomplished, without doubt,” Brahma explained, and instructed the termite. The termite, however, questioned: “How should the sleep of the god, teacher of the worlds, be broken? The breaking of sleep, the interruption of a story, the separation of a loving couple, and the division of mother and child are considered equal to the sin of killing a Brahmin. How, then, can I bring about the loss of happiness for the Lord of gods? What fruit will I gain from eating, for which I would commit sin?” Yet the termite acknowledged, “The whole world, compelled by self-interest, indeed commits sin. Therefore, I will do this act for my own sake, and I will eat.” Thus, the story unfolds, revealing the divine interplay of dependence, humility, and the will of Shakti—even among the highest gods—culminating in the wondrous birth of Hayagriva, and the fulfillment of cosmic purpose.