The Vedas themselves, with voices full of reverence, offered salutations to the Great Māyā—the auspicious one, creator of the universe, attributeless and sovereign over all beings, the mother who fulfills Śaṅkara’s wishes. They praised her as the very earth of all creatures, the life-force within the living, the embodiment of intelligence, prosperity, beauty, forbearance, peace, faith, wisdom, fortitude, and memory. The Vedas continued, declaring that she is the half-syllable of the Udgītha, the Gāyatrī, and all sacred utterances; she is victory, success, the supporter, modesty, fame, aspiration, and compassion. They extolled her as the Mother, skilled in ordering the three worlds, overflowing with compassion, the source of knowledge, auspiciousness, and beneficence to all realms. She is most excellent, expert in the seed of speech, and the destroyer of fear. They acknowledged that Brahmā, Hara, Śauri, Indra the thousand-eyed, the lord of speech, fire, the sun, and all rulers of the worlds exist only because of her. Thus, none of these are primary, for she is the mother of all that moves and does not move. When she desires to create, she produces the gods, with Viṣṇu and Rudra at their head, and through them brings about creation, preservation, and destruction, all while remaining one and untouched by worldly bondage. The Vedas wondered: who in all the worlds is skilled enough to know her true form, or worthy to count her infinite names? If a man cannot grasp even a small portion, how could he, however clever, measure the ocean with his mind? Among the gods, not one knows her limitless powers; she alone is the mother of the world. How, being one, does she create this entire illusory universe? The Vedas themselves declare her authority. Though she is without desire, she is the cause of all worlds—her conduct wondrous and mysterious, beyond the reach of the Vedas. How could her qualities and powers be described, when even she does not know her own supreme nature? The Vedas asked her: Does she not know the fall of Madhu’s slayer from his crown? Or, knowing it, does she wish to test the power of the slayer of Madhu? Or is this force of misfortune that has befallen Hari very strong? They questioned if her indifference toward the assembly of gods is exceedingly harsh, for the destruction of Hari’s head is a cause of great wonder. She is skilled in cutting the thread of birth, yet this brings great sorrow. Perhaps the fault that has arisen in all the gods, or some sin committed by Viṣṇu in a previous birth, has caused this fall; or perhaps some overwhelming pride born of battle in Viṣṇu. The Vedas confessed they did not know the intention behind her play in this matter. They asked: What is the use of demons conquered in battle or sacred places in beautiful lands, when those who have undergone fierce austerities and received boons from Bhavani have vanished? Now, with Viṣṇu’s head gone, has he disappeared, or is there some delight in seeing Vasudeva bereft of his head? They pleaded: Why are you angry, O Daughter of the Ocean? Why do you look upon the First One, now without a protector? Forgive your own portion’s offense; revive him and make us joyful. These gods, renowned for their power and foremost in action, always bow to her. They begged the Goddess to lift up the Lord of all and rescue the gods from the ocean of sorrow. They admitted they did not know where Hari’s head had gone, and that today there was no other way for his life. Just as nectar gives life and power to act, so too does the Goddess grant life to the world. At this moment, Suta narrated that the Goddess, beyond all qualities, the great Lady, the supreme Māyā, became pleased by these praises. She who is known through the Vedas and their branches, and by the Sāmagas, was satisfied. Then, a voice came forth from the sky, bodiless, addressing the gods with words that brought happiness and joy to all. The voice assured the gods: “Do not be anxious; let the immortals remain at ease. I have been praised with the Vedas as desired—I am satisfied, without doubt. Any man in the world who always praises me with this hymn, with devotion, will obtain all his desires. Whoever listens to this hymn with devotion, three times a day, will be freed from suffering and become happy. This is declared in the Vedas and is indeed equal to the Vedas.” The Goddess then promised to explain the reason behind Hari’s lost head, for nothing in this world happens without a cause. She revealed: Viṣṇu, seeing the lovely face of his beloved, the daughter of the ocean, who was sitting near him, smiled. Mahalakshmi, perceiving this, wondered why the Lord laughed at her, and for what reason he saw her face as deformed. She pondered how laughter could arise without cause, suspecting that he had taken another, more beautiful wife, treating her as a co-wife. Filled with anger and dominated by the quality of darkness, Mahalakshmi was entered by a fierce tamasic power at that moment, by some conjunction of time, for the accomplishment of the gods’ purpose. Possessed by this force, she became extremely angry and slowly spoke: “Let your head fall!” Because of her feminine nature and the influence of the moment, she gave this curse without reflection, bringing about her own loss of happiness. She thought that the pain of having a co-wife was greater than widowhood and spoke thus, under the influence of tamasic power. The Goddess explained that falsehood, recklessness, deceit, foolishness, excessive greed, impurity, and cruelty are faults naturally found in women. She declared that she would restore Vāsudeva with his head, just as before; by the effect of the curse, his head had been submerged in the salt ocean. She added that there was another reason—a great task awaited the gods. Long ago, there was a renowned demon named Hayagrīva, mighty-armed, who performed severe austerities on the bank of the Sarasvatī. Reciting her one-syllabled mantra, the seed of all magic, he remained without food, self-controlled, and free from all enjoyments. Meditating on her as the dark power, adorned with all ornaments, he performed extremely severe austerities for a thousand years. Then, the Goddess assumed a dark form and appeared before him, manifesting just as he had envisioned in his meditation. Standing upon a lion, she spoke to him with compassion: “Ask for a boon, O highly fortunate one; I will grant you, O steadfast one.” Hearing her words, the demon, filled with love, quickly circumambulated and prostrated himself before her. Seeing her form, his eyes blossoming with devotion and brimming with tears of joy, he praised her at that moment.