The Supreme Lord, in his boundless creative power, brought forth a host of divine manifestations: Vāmā, Raudrī, Mahāmāyā, Vaiṣṇavī with lotus eyes, Kalā, Vikiriṇī, Kālī, and Kamalavāsinī. He also created the goddess Balavikariṇī, Balapramathinī—the subduer of all beings—and Manonmanī. In the same way, countless other women were created, numbering in the thousands. With these divine beings and the Rudras, the great Lord became the sovereign of the three worlds. Standing before her, the soul of all, the Supreme Lord appeared—he who is Brahmā, the supreme lord, who had perished. Out of compassion, Maheśvara, son of Brahmā, restored Brahmā’s life-breaths, granting him the vital airs that resided within himself. Revived, Rudra felt his vigor return and joyfully addressed Brahmā, the Lord of the gods, with words of reassurance: “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 this, Pitāmaha—his mind awakened as if from a dream—became serene, his eyes shining like blooming lotuses. With his life restored, Brahmā gazed long upon Maheśvara, and with gentle, deep voice, he 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 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, his voice choked with joy, pleaded, “O Lord, O God of gods, I am afflicted by sorrows. O Lord Śaṅkara, you should 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 the goddess. Thus, O Śilāda, it is rare in the worlds for one not born from a womb to exist. Know also that a man free from death is rare—even the lotus-born Brahmā is subject to death. Yet, if Lord Rudra, God of gods, is pleased, it becomes 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.” So spoke the compassionate one, blessing the best of Brāhmaṇas. Surrounded by the gods, the Lord departed, riding upon his white bull. When Indra, the thousand-eyed, and the granter of boons had departed, Śilāda began to worship the great god Bhava, seeking to please him through intense austerity. For that devoted Brāhmaṇa, intent on the highest, a divine thousand years passed as if in a single wondrous moment. The sage’s body became covered by an anthill, swarmed by hosts of insects and red creatures with sharp, needle-like mouths. Devoid of flesh, blood, and skin, untouched like a wall, only bones remained; thus did Śaṅkara regard him. When Śilāda was touched by the hand of Śaṅkara, the enemy of Kāma, at that very moment the twice-born sage was released from his fatigue. Pleased by his austerity, the glorious Śaṅkara, accompanied by his attendants and myself, spoke: “I am satisfied with your penance. O great-minded one, what is the purpose of this austerity for you? I shall grant you a son who is all-knowing and accomplished in the meaning of all the scriptures.” Bowing to the Lord of gods and offering praise, Śilāda spoke with a voice choked with joy to Soma, the one adorned with the moon: “O Lord, God of gods, destroyer of Tripura, Śaṅkara, I desire an unborn, deathless son, O most excellent one.” Formerly, the supreme Lord Rudra, pleased by Śilāda’s austerity, spoke to him through Brahmā with great affection: “O twice-born, I was formerly worshipped by Brahmā, by ascetics rich in austerity, and by the foremost of sages and gods, for the purpose of incarnation. I shall become your son, unborn and named Nandi; you shall be my father, O sage, as Brahmā is the father of the worlds.” Having spoken thus, seeing the sage standing there in reverence, Soma—radiant as the moon and pleased—vanished on the spot. Having obtained a son from Rudra, the father, delighted, reached the great sacrificial ground as the best among those who know sacrifice. From that ground of Śambhu, by his command, I was born before, shining like the fire at the end of an age. Then, clouds poured forth rain, celestial beings, kinnaras, siddhas, and sādhyas sang in the sky. When I became the son of Śilāda, Upendra caused a shower of flowers to fall. Seeing me—radiant like the sun at the end of time, wearing a matted hair crown, three-eyed, four-armed, a boy holding trident, axe, and mace; a child bearing a thunderbolt, with thunderous fangs, worshipped by the wielder of the thunderbolt, adorned with thunderbolt earrings, fierce, with a roar like a raincloud—all the gods beginning with Brahmā, Indra, and the great sages praised me. Everywhere there was music, and the hosts of apsarases danced. O tiger among sages, the seers, with joy, praised me with great Śaiva mantras drawn from the Ṛg, Yajur, and Sāma Vedas, and bowed down.