As all the gods assembled, with Brahma and Rudra at their head, a deep anxiety arose among them. The Lord of the world, Vishnu, lay in a profound sleep, and the gods wondered how to awaken him so the sacrificial work could be accomplished. Indra, ever the spokesman, turned to the assembly and asked, “What should be done, O best of gods? Let us consider how this sleep might be broken.” Shambhu, the compassionate Shiva, replied, “There is indeed a fault in disturbing the Lord’s rest, yet the sacrifice must proceed, O best of gods.” Hearing this, Brahma, the supreme creator, devised a plan. He created a termite—a small but purposeful creature—intending for it to eat the tip of the bow that rested upon the ground near Vishnu. Brahma explained, “When the tip is eaten, the bow will descend, and then the Lord of gods will be freed from sleep. Thus, our work will be accomplished.” Brahma instructed the termite carefully, and the termite questioned, “How shall I break the sleep of the god, the teacher of the worlds?” The termite was troubled, for breaking sleep, interrupting a story, separating a loving couple, or dividing mother and child—all were considered as sinful as killing a Brahmin. “How can I bring about the loss of happiness for the Lord of gods?” the termite asked. “What fruit will I gain from eating, for which I would commit sin?” Brahma reassured the termite, “All the world, compelled by self-interest, commits sin. Do this act for your own sake, and you will receive your share in the sacrifice. Listen: at the side of the sacrificial rite, from the offering of oblations, your portion will fall. Know this as your reward, and perform the task swiftly.” Thus encouraged, the termite quickly ate the tip of the bow resting on the ground. The bowstring was released with a sudden force, and a terrible sound echoed throughout the heavens, frightening all the gods. The cosmic egg itself was shaken, the earth trembled, oceans were stirred, and aquatic creatures were terrified. Fierce winds blew, mountains quaked, meteors fell, and ominous signs appeared everywhere. The directions grew even more dreadful, and the sun set unexpectedly. All the gods were seized by anxiety, dreading what might come next. As they worried, the head of Vishnu, adorned with earrings and crown, mysteriously vanished from his body. In the midst of this dreadful darkness, Brahma and Shiva remained calm and beheld Vishnu’s body, now headless, lying before them—a strange and unsettling sight. The gods were astonished and plunged into an ocean of grief, lamenting, “Alas, Lord! What has happened, O Master? This is most astonishing and inhuman—a calamity for all the gods, O eternal God of gods!” They cried, “By whose magic has your head been taken today? You are always uncut, unbroken, and unburnable. With you in this state, O Lord, the gods will perish. What affection do we truly have for you, that we weep only for ourselves? This obstacle was not caused by demons, nor by yakshas or rakshasas; it was made by the gods themselves. O Lord of Lakshmi, whose fault is this?” Despairing, they admitted, “All the gods are powerless—what can we do, and where can we go? O Lord of gods, there is no refuge for us, who are deluded in mind. Nor is this the sāttvic, nor rājasic, nor tāmasic māyā by which your head, O Lord of Māyā, Teacher of the world, was severed today.” Seeing the gods, led by Shiva, weeping, Brihaspati, the wise knower of the Vedas, spoke to calm them. “O blessed ones, what is the use of crying and wailing? We must devise a means within our understanding. Both fate and human effort are equal; a means must be undertaken, for results always arise from destiny.” Indra, still anxious, declared, “I consider fate supreme; shame on human effort, which is useless. Even Vishnu’s head was cut off before the very eyes of the gods.” Brahma replied, “Whatever is brought by time must certainly be experienced, whether good or bad; who can ever surpass fate? There is no doubt that one with a body must experience pleasure and pain, just as, in the past, my own head was cut off by Shiva, under the power of time. In the same way, the fall of the linga happened by Mahadeva’s curse; and so today, Hari’s head has fallen into the salt ocean. The thousandfold division, the suffering of Shachi’s lord, the fall from heaven, and the dwelling in the lotus-filled Manasa lake—all these occurred. These are the experiencers of suffering—who here does not undergo pain? In this world, O blessed ones, let us abandon sorrow.” Brahma then advised, “Let us contemplate the Great Māyā, the eternal Goddess of Knowledge; she, the supreme, attributeless Nature, will accomplish our purpose. She is the knowledge of Brahman, the supporter of the universe, the mother of all beings; by whom this entire world, the three realms with all that moves and does not move, is pervaded.” Having spoken thus, Brahma instructed the Vedas, who stood before him in embodied form, to accomplish the gods’ purpose. “Let them praise the supreme Goddess, the eternal knowledge of Brahman, the one with hidden limbs, the Great Māyā, who accomplishes all aims.” Hearing his words, the Vedas, beautiful in every part, praised that Great Māyā, who is realized through knowledge and who upholds the world.