In days long past, there arose a pressing concern among the gods. It was noted that certain faults—falsehood, recklessness, deceit, foolishness, excessive greed, impurity, and cruelty—seemed to be naturally found in women. Yet, amidst these reflections, a greater task lay ahead for the divine assembly. One of the gods declared, “Today, I shall restore Vāsudeva’s head to him, just as it was before—a head that, due to the effect of a curse, had been submerged in the salt ocean. But there is more, O best of the gods: a great mission awaits us all.” The tale of Hayagrīva was then recounted. Long ago, on the banks of the sacred Sarasvatī, there lived a mighty demon named Hayagrīva. Renowned for his power, he undertook severe austerities. He recited a one-syllabled mantra, the seed of all magic, remaining without food, self-controlled, and abstaining from all pleasures. For a thousand years, he meditated upon the goddess as the dark power, adorned with all ornaments, performing extraordinary austerities. Moved by his devotion, 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 with compassion, “Ask for a boon, O highly fortunate one; I will grant you whatever you wish, O steadfast one.” Hayagrīva, overwhelmed with love, circumambulated and prostrated before her. His eyes blossomed with devotion, and tears of joy streamed down his face as he praised the goddess: “Salutations to the great enchantress, who creates, sustains, and dissolves the universe; skillful in blessing devotees, granter of desires and liberation, auspicious one. You are the cause of earth, water, fire, air, and ether; the forms of the Gandharvas, touch and sound. The nose, tongue, eyes, skin, ears—the senses—and the organs of action, O great goddess, all arise from you.” The goddess, pleased by his devotion and austerity, said, “Tell me what boon you desire; whatever you wish, I will grant it.” Hayagrīva replied, “Mother, let death not come to me. May I be immortal, a yogi, and unconquerable by gods and demons.” The goddess responded, “For one who is born, death is certain; for one who has died, birth is certain. Such is the order in the world—how can it be otherwise? Therefore, O best of demons, having resolved thus about death, choose another boon you desire, after considering in your mind.” Hayagrīva then asked, “O Mother of the world, let my death come only from one named Hayagrīva, and from no other. Fulfill this wish that is in my heart.” The goddess granted his wish: “Go home, O greatly fortunate one, and rule your kingdom as you please. Except for Hayagriva, surely death will not come to you.” Having received this boon, Hayagrīva, filled with supreme joy, returned to his own abode. But with his newfound power, Hayagrīva became a tormentor of sages and the Vedas. In all the three worlds, none could slay him. To remedy this, it was decreed that the head of a horse, beautiful to behold, would be taken and joined to the body of Vishnu by Tvashta, the divine artisan. Thus, blessed Hayagriva would slay the demon, the most sinful and cruel Danava, for the welfare of the gods. Sharvani, having addressed the gods, became silent. The gods, exceedingly pleased, then spoke to Tvashta: “Perform this task for us—join the horse’s head to Vishnu. Hayagriva will slay the foremost Daitya, the Danava.” Tvashta, hearing their words, acted swiftly. With great haste, he cut off the horse’s head with a sword in the presence of the gods and quickly joined it to Vishnu’s body. By the grace of the great Maya, Hari became Hayagriva. Within a short time, the prideful Danava was slain with force in battle by the power of the gods’ enemy. It is said that those who listen to this auspicious narrative are freed from all suffering—there is no doubt. The story of the great Maya is pure and destroys sin; for those who recite or listen to it, it brings all prosperity. The sages, eager for more, then asked Suta: “Gentle one, what you have told about the battle of Shauri in the great ocean, together with Madhu and Kaitabha, lasted five thousand years. Why were those two Danavas born in that single ocean of water, possessing great strength, difficult to overcome, and even very hard for the gods to defeat? How were those two Asuras born, and how were they slain by Hari? Tell us, O greatly wise one, this wondrous tale. We all wish to hear; you are the speaker and well-versed. By fate, this union has occurred, as has our meeting with you.” The sages reflected further: “Union with a fool is harder than poison; union with the wise is remembered as being like the essence of nectar. All animals live, eat, and defecate; they know the forms of sense objects and the wondrous pleasure of intercourse. Those who have no discernment of real and unreal, no discrimination, and no liberation—know them to be like animals, those who have no reverence for hearing. Some animals, such as deer and others, know the pleasure of hearing; but serpents, lacking ears, are deprived of the joy of sound. Of the five senses, hearing and sight are considered auspicious; through hearing comes knowledge of things, and through sight, delight of the mind. Hearing is said to be of three kinds: sāttvika, rājasika, and tāmasika, O noble one, as explained by the wise with certainty.” Thus, the sages awaited the unfolding of the next sacred tale, eager to hear of the origins and fate of Madhu and Kaitabha, and the wisdom that would be revealed.