Hear now the wondrous tale as spoken in the sacred tradition. Once, Vishnu himself, seated upon the Garuda throne, declared, “Who, abandoning union with the goal, falls to inferior births such as fish? Leaving my divine bed, I sit independently and wage great battles. Yet, O unborn one, recall how once my head fell forward when the bowstring slipped. At that moment, you took the horse’s head and, with the finest artisan, joined it again.” He continued, “I am called Hayānana, the horse-faced one, and you, creator of worlds, know this well. Among people, it is a cause for mockery; how could this be if I were truly independent? Therefore, I am not self-dependent; I am always subject to Śakti. Ceaselessly, I meditate upon that Śakti alone. O lotus-born, I know nothing higher than this.” Narada then spoke: “Thus Vishnu spoke in the presence of the lotus-born. And so I was addressed, O foremost sage. Therefore, you too, O auspicious one, for attaining the highest goals, without doubt, worship the lotus feet of the Goddess in the lotus of your heart. That Goddess will grant you whatever you desire.” Sūta continued: “Thus addressed by Narada, Vyāsa, son of Satyavatī, immersed himself in the lotus feet of the Goddess and went to the mountain for austerity.” The sages, eager for understanding, questioned Sūta: “O Sūta, our minds are awash in doubt. As you have said, this is a great wonder, astonishing to the world. The head of Mādhava departed from his body and became supreme; from that, Hayagrīva was born—the creator of all, Janārdana. Even the Veda praises that God upon whom all the gods depend, the primordial deity, Lord of the universe, 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.” Sūta replied: “Let all the sages listen attentively to the deeds of Vishnu, the god of gods, of supreme brilliance. Once, after waging a fierce battle for ten thousand years, the eternal Janārdana became exhausted. In that auspicious place, the Lord made a lotus seat, holding a strung bow and resting it at his neck, and sat upon the earth. Placing the weight on the tip of the bow, the Lord of Lakṣmī fell into deep sleep, exhausted and overcome by divine arrangement. After some time, all the gods with Indra, Brahmā, and Śiva prepared to perform a sacrifice. They went to Vaikuṇṭha to see Janārdana, the lord of sacrifices, for the accomplishment of their divine purpose. Not finding him there, they perceived with the eye of knowledge where the Blessed Vishnu was and went to him. There, they saw the Lord overcome by yogic sleep, unconscious, the all-pervading Vishnu, and stood before him. While the Lord of the world lay asleep, all the gods present—led by Brahma and Rudra—became anxious. Indra spoke, ‘What should be done, O best of gods? Let us consider how his sleep may be broken.’ Shambhu replied, ‘There is a fault in breaking sleep, yet the work of the sacrifice must be accomplished, O best of gods.’ Then Brahma, the supreme lord, 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, and the Lord of gods will be freed from sleep. Then all our work will be accomplished.’ Brahma instructed the termite, but the termite asked, ‘How should I break the sleep of the teacher of the worlds? The breaking of sleep, the interruption of a story, the separation of a loving couple, and the division of mother and child are equal to the sin of killing a Brahmin. How 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?’ Brahma replied, ‘The whole world, compelled by self-interest, commits sin. Do this act for your own sake, and you will receive your share in the sacrifice. At the side of the sacrificial rite, from the offering of oblations, your share will fall—know that as your portion, and perform the task swiftly.’ Thus addressed, the termite quickly ate the tip of the bow resting on the ground. The bowstring was released, and as it sprang upward, a terrible sound arose, frightening the gods. The entire cosmic egg shook, the earth trembled, oceans were agitated, and aquatic creatures were terrified. Fierce winds blew, mountains shook, meteors fell, and ominous signs of disaster appeared. The directions became terrifying, and the sun set; all the gods were seized by anxiety, wondering what would happen on this dreadful day. As they worried, the head of Vishnu—adorned with earrings and crown—vanished from the Lord of gods. In that dreadful darkness, Brahma and Shiva remained calm as they beheld Vishnu’s body, now headless, appearing strange. Seeing Vishnu’s trunk, the best of the gods were astonished; plunged into an ocean of worry, they wept, tormented by grief.