In the course of cosmic time, there comes the epoch of Varaha, whose duration the wise have already proclaimed. This cycle has been described by the ancient seers—those who contemplate the mysteries of time itself. Among the cycles of creation, some are marked by the quality of darkness, tamas, and in those, the glory belongs to Hara, the great Lord Shiva. In cycles dominated by passion, rajas, Prajapati is celebrated. Other cycles shine with the quality of sattva, purity and harmony; among these, my own manifestations arise. Those who worship both Girisha—another name for Shiva—and myself, attain the supreme state beyond all change. When the world becomes a single boundless ocean, I enter into the deep sleep of yoga, resting in tranquility. Yet, in the higher world of Janas, those who dwell there—through their austerity and yogic vision—behold the One who is thousand-footed, radiant with a thousand rays, and perceives with a thousand eyes. I am present in all sacred offerings: I am the ladle, the spoon, the Soma, and the clarified butter poured into the fire. I am the Veda itself, the object of all knowledge, the Lord, the protector, the master of cows, and the very mouth of Brahman. I am the Swan, the vital breath, then Kapila, the universal form, the eternal principle. I am mother, father, and the great god; apart from me, nothing else exists. Those who truly know the self attain immortality. Now, listen as I speak briefly of the primordial nature of all things. When the time comes for dissolution, the fire of time, intent on reducing everything to ashes, brings all creation to its end. This fire consumes the entire cosmic egg—gods, demons, and humans alike. Taking on a terrifying form, it brings about the destruction of the worlds, burning all with the power of the seven sevens. This all-consuming fire is cast into the bodies of the gods themselves. Yet, the one Vedic revelation remains, abiding as a witness with Śambhu, the auspicious one. The sky is filled with countless suns, moons, and celestial bodies. The mighty-armed Lord appears, with a thousand hands and feet, and a thousand rays, holding the trident, clad in a tiger skin, established in the mastery of yoga. The supreme Lord dances the Tāṇḍava, beholding the goddess. Entering into the deepest yoga, he merges into the form of the trident-bearing one. This blessed being, whose nature is pure light, has burned up the entire cosmic sphere. Then, the earth with all its qualities dissolves into the waters; fire, bearing its qualities, passes into air and is extinguished; space, with its qualities, merges into the primordial element. The divine hosts, purest in their sattva, dissolve into the subtle vaikārika principle. At the time of dissolution, the threefold ego merges into the great principle. The unmanifest, the very womb of the world, draws all things back into the one imperishable reality, separating primordial nature from the supreme person. Know that dissolution does not happen by itself; it arises from the will of the great Lord. Primordial nature, the womb of the world, is the principle of illusion—unconscious and mysterious. The sages sing of the great, manifold witness, the grandfather of all. From primordial nature down to the final particular, Rudra burns all, so the scripture declares. Here, Śaṅkara brings about the ultimate dissolution. The power that both establishes and deludes is called Nārāyaṇa, as the scripture proclaims. From primordial nature, consisting of the twenty-five principles, he creates all things anew.