Brahmā turned to the termite and spoke with gentle authority, “We shall grant you your share in the sacrifice—listen carefully. By accepting this portion, fulfill our task and swiftly awaken Viṣṇu.” He explained further, “Beside the sacrificial rite, from the oblations offered, your share will fall. Know this as your portion, and act quickly to accomplish our purpose.” Thus instructed by Brahmā, the termite wasted no time. It began to eat through the tip of the mighty bow that lay upon the ground. As the termite finished its work, the tension in the bowstring was released, and the tip of the bow sprang upward with tremendous force. A dreadful sound thundered forth as the bow snapped, startling the gods and filling them with fear. The entire cosmic egg was shaken; the earth trembled, the oceans surged, and aquatic creatures scattered in terror. Fierce winds howled, mountains quaked, meteors streaked across the sky, and ominous signs of calamity appeared everywhere. The directions themselves became terrifying, the sun set unexpectedly, and all the gods were gripped by anxiety, dreading what this terrible day might bring. As the gods worried, a most astonishing event occurred: the head of Viṣṇu, adorned with shining earrings and a splendid crown, vanished from the Lord of gods. Suddenly, in the midst of this dreadful darkness, Brahmā and Śiva remained calm, but before their eyes appeared the headless body of Viṣṇu—a sight so strange that it left even the greatest gods in shock. Seeing Viṣṇu’s trunk, the gods were overwhelmed with astonishment and sorrow. Plunged into a sea of worry, they wept in anguish, lamenting, “Alas, Lord! What has happened, O Master? This is beyond belief—a calamity for all the gods, O eternal God of gods!” They cried, “By whose magic, O Lord, has your head been taken today? You are ever uncut, unbroken, unburnable. With you in this state, O Lord, how will the gods survive? Is our love for you so shallow that we weep only for ourselves?” They continued, “This obstacle was not created by demons, nor by yakṣas or rākṣasas; it was caused by the gods themselves. O Lord of Lakṣmī, whose fault is this? All the gods are powerless—what can we do, and where can we turn? O Lord of gods, there is no refuge for the bewildered gods. Nor is this the work of sāttvic, rājasic, or tāmasic māyā by which your head was severed today, O Lord of Māyā, Teacher of the world.” Witnessing the gods, led by Śiva, weeping in despair, Bṛhaspati, the knower of the Vedas, spoke to calm them. “O blessed ones, what use is there in crying and wailing? We must devise a means, within our understanding, to resolve this crisis. O Lord of gods, fate and human effort are equal—let us undertake some action, for results always arise from destiny.” But Indra replied, “I consider fate supreme; human effort is useless. Even Viṣṇu’s head was severed before the very eyes of the gods.” Brahmā added, “Whatever is brought by time must certainly be experienced, whether good or bad; who can surpass fate? There is no doubt that one with a body must experience both pleasure and pain—just as, in the past, my own head was cut off by Śiva, under the power of time. In the same way, the fall of the liṅga happened by the curse of Mahādeva; and so today, Hari’s head has fallen into the salt ocean. The thousandfold division, the suffering of Śacī’s lord, the fall from heaven, and dwelling in the lotus-filled Mānasa lake—all these have occurred. Who among us does not experience pain? Therefore, O blessed ones, let us abandon sorrow.” Brahmā then urged them, “Let us contemplate the Great Māyā, the eternal Goddess of Knowledge; she, the supreme, attributeless Nature, will accomplish our aim. She is the knowledge of Brahman, the supporter of the universe, the mother of all beings; she pervades this entire world, the three realms, and all that moves and does not move.” Having thus spoken to the gods, Brahmā instructed the Vedas, who stood before him in embodied form, to act for the fulfillment of 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 Brahmā’s words, the Vedas, beautiful in every part, began to praise the Great Māyā, who is realized through knowledge and upholds the world. They sang: “Salutations to you, O Great Māyā, O auspicious one, creator of the universe; attributeless, ruler of all beings, mother, fulfiller of Śaṅkara’s wish. You are the earth of all beings, and the life of the living; you are intelligence, prosperity, beauty, forbearance, peace, faith, wisdom, fortitude, and memory. You are the half-syllable of the Udgītha, the Gāyatrī, and the sacred utterances; you are victory, success, the supporter, modesty, fame, aspiration, and compassion. We praise you, O Mother, skilled in ordering the three worlds, full of the essence of compassion, mother of all beings, knowledge, auspicious, beneficent to all worlds, most excellent, expert in the seed of speech, and destroyer of fear.” They continued, “Brahmā, Hara, Śauri, the thousand-eyed one, the lord of speech, fire, the sun, and all rulers of the worlds—these exist because of you; therefore, they are not primary, for you are the mother of all that moves and does not move. When you, O Mother, wish to create all the worlds, you bring forth the gods, with Viṣṇu and Rudra at their head; through them, you bring about creation, preservation, and destruction, though you remain one—indeed, O Goddess, there is not the least trace of worldly bondage in you.” “In all the worlds, who is skilled enough to know your form? Who is worthy to recount your names? If a man cannot grasp even a small portion, how could he, though clever, measure the ocean with his mind? Among the gods, O Blessed One, not even one knows your infinite powers; you alone are the mother of the world. How do you, being one, create this entire illusory universe? The authority for this, O Goddess, is declared in the words of the Vedas.” “You are indeed without desire, yet the cause of all the worlds—O Blessed One, your conduct is wondrous, and our minds are not disturbed. How can your qualities and powers, which are beyond the reach of all the Vedas, be described? For you do not know your own supreme nature.” “O Mother, do you not know of the fall of Madhu’s slayer from his crown? O Auspicious One, or knowing it, do you wish to test the power of the slayer of Madhu? Or, O Mother, is this force of misfortune that has befallen Hari very strong?” Thus, in their distress, the gods, guided by Brahmā, praised the Supreme Goddess, seeking her grace to restore cosmic order.