O Supreme Lord, be gracious! Devotion is so rare among the wicked, O twice-born one. Even among those like myself, the lowest of kṣatriyas, true devotion is hard to find. Thus spoke the king, humbly seeking favor. Hearing and accepting his plea, the great ascetic Dadhīca, foremost among sages, was moved. Yet, stirred by the king’s words and the conduct of the gods, Dadhīca, burning with the fire of Rudra’s wrath, uttered a curse upon the king and the excellent gods. “By Rudra’s fury,” he declared, “may the gods, along with Indra and the great sages, be destroyed by the god, together with Viṣṇu!” This pronouncement, made at the auspicious sacrifice of Dakṣa, the noble lord of creatures, echoed with power. Having thus cursed Kṣupa, Dadhīca, the best of the twice-born, turned his gaze again to the king and spoke further: “O king of rulers, it is right that kings and various groups worship the gods. But, O king, know that the brāhmaṇas alone possess true power and capability.” Having spoken these words, the illustrious sage Dadhīca returned to his own hermitage. The king, bowing respectfully to the sage, departed for his own abode. In time, that very place where these events unfolded became a sacred ford, known as Sthāneśvara. It is said that whoever reaches Sthāneśvara attains union with Śiva himself. Thus, briefly, has the tale of the dispute between Kṣupa and Dadhīca been told, along with the greatness of Dadhīca and of Bhava, O great sage. Whoever recites this divine dispute between Kṣupa and Dadhīca will overcome premature death and, at the end of their body, attain the world of Brahmā. Moreover, whoever, having recited this battle, enters into combat, will never know fear of death and will always be victorious. Now, O lord, you have asked: How did I approach the great God, the consort of Umā? You wish to hear all of this, and I shall tell you everything. My father, Śilāda, O great sage, longed for offspring. Though blind for many years, he performed severe and difficult austerities, seeking a boon. As he continued his penance, the Lord, wielder of the thunderbolt, was pleased and appeared before Śilāda, saying, “I am pleased—choose your boons.” Then, bowing to the Lord of gods, the thousand-eyed one, Śilāda, accompanied by the immortals and the foremost among sages, addressed Hari with joined palms: “O Lord, destroyer of the gods’ enemies, bestower of boons, I desire a son who is not born from a womb, who is free from death, O virtuous one.” But the Lord replied, “O sage among the twice-born, I can grant you a son born from a womb, who is subject to death; otherwise, I cannot give you a son, for truly, none are free from death. Not even the blessed Grandfather, Brahmā, can grant a son not born from a womb and free from death—how much less could any other, O great sage? Even Brahmā himself is not free from death, nor is the Lord; he is born from a womb, of great splendor, born from an egg, and sprung from the lotus. Even the mighty son of Maheśvara, born from his own body, the son of Bhavānī, has a lifespan equal to two parārddhas. The hundreds of billions of days that have passed, the duration of kalpas—such is the remaining lifespan in the three worlds. Therefore, O foremost of Brahmins, abandon your hope for a son not born from a womb and free from death; accept a son equal to yourself.” Hearing these words, my father Śilāda, renowned for his virtue, spoke again to the lord of Śacī: “O Lord, I have heard of birth without a womb, of birth from the lotus, and of birth from the body of Maheśvara, and also of Brahmā. O mighty one, in the lineage of Mahendra and in earlier births, from Nārada, I have heard of these things—tell me quickly how this is so here. Dakṣāyaṇī is the daughter of Dakṣa, and the god born from the lotus is her son; how then is she the daughter of the golden womb, and how is that mighty one her son?” The Lord replied, “It is fitting that you question this, O Brahmin; I will tell you the reason. In the Purusha Kalpa, this event concerning the supreme Brahmā took place. Having contemplated, the supreme Lord Janārdana, Lord of the universe, created all beings—including Brahmā—during the Meghavāhana Kalpa. For a divine thousand years, Nārāyaṇa, becoming a cloud, with great respect and honor, bore the great god. Seeing Hari’s disposition within himself, Śaṅkara, the great god, granted him the power to create everything, together with Brahmā. Thus, that kalpa was named Meghavāhana; and seeing him, Hiraṇyagarbha was then born from his body. The son of Janārdana, having attained Śaṅkara through austerity, spoke: ‘Viṣṇu is born from your left side, and I am born from your right side.’ Together with me, Acyuta created the entire world; being the essence of the universe, he, becoming a cloud, bore us day and night. Viṣṇu brought you, O god of gods, teacher of the world; O mighty one, I am your devotee, Śaṅkara, even more than of Nārāyaṇa. Be gracious, grant me everything, for you are the soul of all, O Lord.” Thus, having obtained this, the blessed one instantly gained the state of being the soul of all from you. Hastening, he approached and beheld the Supreme Person in the pure abode of the single ocean, surrounded by a darkness most terrible. In a divine place adorned with gold and jewels, fashioned by the mind, unattainable by the wicked, accessible only to the virtuous, and unseen even by Sanaka and the others, the unborn one beheld the Person whose heart is the abode of the world, lying upon the endless serpent-bed, with eyes like lotuses. He saw the Lord bearing conch, discus, mace, and lotus, with four arms, adorned with all ornaments, and radiant like the orb of the moon. The god marked with Śrīvatsa, with a gracious face, Janārdana, whose lotus feet were reddened by the gentle touch of Lakṣmī’s hands, appeared before him—the Supreme Self, the Lord, who is darkness in the form of time, and by rajas sets in motion the play of creation for all worlds.