From the forehead of the Grandfather, Brahmā, there broke forth a radiant being—red in color, self-existent, yet blue, born from the heart of Śiva. Through union with fire, this Lord, this person, arose from nature itself, his form shimmering with blue and red hues. From him, the form of Time, embodied as a man, came forth. This divine being was named Nīlalohita, the blue-red one, by the Lord himself. Blessed Kāla, Time, was thus created by Brahmā, who was content in spirit. Overwhelmed with delight, Brahmā praised the god with eight names, addressing him as the soul of the universe. He offered salutations to Rudra, radiant as the sun, and to Bhava, the god composed of essence and water. He honored Śarva, whose form is earth and who is always fragrant, and Īśa, who embodies wind and the sense of touch. He paid homage to the Lord of creatures, whose brilliance surpasses fire, whose form is space, and whose nature is sound alone. He saluted the great god, Soma, the immortal one, the fierce one, the sacrificer, and the practitioner of ritual action. Brahmā spoke: “Whoever recites or hears this ancestral hymn, spoken for Rudra, or causes attentive Brahmins to listen, attains union with the Eight-formed One within eleven years.” Having thus praised the great god, Brahmā beheld him. Then, the great god assumed eight forms all around. At that moment, the sun shone forth, the moon appeared with its dark path, and the elements—earth, wind, man, water, ether, and the all-pervading—manifested. From that time onward, he was known as the Lord with eight forms. By the grace of the Eight-formed One, Virinchi (Brahmā) again created the universe. Having done so, Brahmā repeated this act at the end of each age. When, for a thousand ages, all beings, moving and unmoving, were asleep, Brahmā desired to create creatures and performed severe and mighty austerity. Yet, as he engaged in austerity, nothing came to be. After a long time, suffering led to anger. From his eyes, filled with wrath, drops of tears fell, and from those drops, beings called bhūtas and pretas were born. Seeing these elder beings—bhūtas, pretas, and night-wanderers—Brahmā, the unborn and all-pervading, blamed himself. Overcome by anger, he abandoned his vital breaths, and from his mouth arose Rudra, composed of vital energy. Rudra became the Lord who is half male and half female, shining like the rising sun. He then divided himself into eleven forms and remained thus. With half of his portion, the soul of all, he created Śivā, Umā, who in turn created Lakṣmī, Durgā the excellent, and Sarasvatī. She also created Vāmā, Raudrī, Mahāmāyā, Vaiṣṇavī with lotus eyes, Kalā, Vikiriṇī, Kālī, and Kamalavāsinī. The goddess Balavikariṇī, Balapramathinī, the subduer of all beings, and Manonmanī were brought forth. Likewise, many other women, thousands in number, were created by her. With these Rudras, the great god became Lord of the three worlds. The Supreme Lord stood before her, the soul of all, and before Brahmā, the supreme lord who had died. The compassionate Lord Maheśvara, son of Brahmā, restored Brahmā’s life-breaths, granting him those vital airs which were within himself. Rudra became joyful, having regained his vigor, and addressed Brahmā with supreme words: “Do not fear, O highly fortunate one, O Virin̄ca, teacher of the worlds. I have established your life-breaths here; therefore, rise up, O Lord.” Hearing these words, Pitāmaha’s mind was awakened as if from a dream; his spirit became serene, his eyes shining like blooming lotuses. With his life restored, he gazed upon Maheśvara, and after a long time, spoke with a gentle and deep voice. Brahmā rose, joined his palms in reverence, and said: “O illustrious one, speak, O highly fortunate Lord, for you fill my mind with joy. Who are you, possessing eight forms, yet established as elevenfold?” Maheśvara, touching Brahmā with his auspicious hands, replied: “Know me as the Supreme Self, and this as my unborn Māyā. These Rudras are established here, having come to protect you.” Brahmā bowed to the Lord of gods and spoke with joined palms and a voice choked with joy: “O Lord, O God of gods, I am afflicted by sorrows. O Lord Śaṅkara, deliver me from this cycle of existence.” The blessed Lord, Umā’s consort, smiled at Pitāmaha. Then, the Lord of the universe vanished along with the Rudras and her. Thus, O Śilāda, in the worlds, one not born from a womb is indeed rare. Know that a man without death is rare; even the lotus-born Brahmā is subject to death. Yet, if Lord Rudra, God of gods, is pleased, then it is possible. “Your son, not born from a womb and free from death, is not unattainable—by me, by Viṣṇu, and by the great-souled Brahmā. It is not possible to describe one who is unborn and deathless.” Thus speaking, the compassionate one blessed the best of Brāhmaṇas. Surrounded by the gods, the Lord departed, riding on a white bull.