By the sacred river Gaṅgā and the constellation of Kṛttikās, and especially by Svāhā herself, Śiva was addressed with words full of devotion and love, spoken by the very Mother of the World. In that blessed moment, Śiva, as Īśāna, gazed upon the radiant face of his son Skanda, drinking in its nectar-like beauty, yet never feeling satisfied, so entranced was he. All thoughts of the gods, who were suffering under the assault of the Daityas’ weapons, faded from his mind. Overcome with joy, Śiva embraced Skanda and inhaled his sweet scent, exclaiming with delight, “My son!” In that divine playfulness, both father and child, the remover of all suffering, began to dance together. Their joy was infectious—soon, the other great lords of the gaṇas joined in the dance, and, by the Lord’s command, for a brief shining moment, the entire expanse of the three worlds seemed to dance as one. The nāgas swayed in rhythm, the gods led by mighty Indra joined in, and the gaṇas sang Skanda’s praises, while the divine mothers rejoiced. Flowers rained down from above; the Gandharvas and Kinnaras filled the air with melodious song. Pārvatī and Parameśvara, along with Nandi and all the lords of the gaṇas, were deeply satisfied, as if they had tasted the very nectar of dance. When their joy was complete, Nandi, together with Ṣaṇmukha and the daughter of the mountain king, entered the resplendent divine abode. Bhava, whose form was as dark and majestic as a raincloud, merged into that abode as one cloud merges into another. At the threshold, the gods gathered, standing near the wise Lord, offering him praise, though their hearts were tinged with anxiety. Looking at one another in confusion, some gods lamented, “We are sinners,” while others sighed, “We are unfortunate.” Among them, some declared, “The Daitya chiefs are truly fortunate,” while others insisted, “This is the fruit of their worship,” and still others denied any such cause. As their many voices mingled, Kumbhodara, blazing with brilliance, struck the gods with his staff. Fear seized them, and they fled in distress; some sages and gods stumbled and fell to the earth. The great sages, such as Kaśyapa, seeing both the Lord of gods and their enemies, exclaimed in wonder, “Ah, such is the power of fate!” A few of the twice-born, disheartened by misfortune and the incompletion of their task, offered only a little devotion, softly uttering, “Salutations to Śiva.” Then Kapardī, the sage Nandi, beloved of Mahādeva, appeared, bearing a trident, a garland, a club, earrings, bangles, and a mace. Mounting the beautiful white bull, and following the Lord’s command, Nandi set forth. At the sight of Nandi, the host Kumbhodara bowed his head in respect and quickly accompanied him. Nandi, shining with great brilliance atop the bull, became a banner of glory. With his hosts, the commander of the gaṇas, Bhava, moved as if gliding upon a cloud, spanning ten yojanas, adorned with strings of pearls. Above him, a white parasol from the mountain gleamed like the open sky, within which hung an auspicious garland of pearls. Upon the Lord’s head, the parasol shone like the Ganges descending from the heavens. Seeing the chief of the gaṇas, the auspicious divine drums resounded. At the command of the wielder of the thunderbolt, Indra, all the eminent sages joined in, praising the Lord of the gaṇas with auspicious words, hailing him as the bestower of all desired boons. The gods, beholding Bhava, felt their skin prickle with joy, and, by Indra’s command, the celestial beings showered flowers upon his head. Fragrant offerings rained down from the sky upon Nandi, who, pleased by the shower, shone with true satisfaction and strength. Nandi and Bhava, bathed in perfumed water from the moon, gleamed resplendently, the back of the bull adorned with many kinds of flowers. The sky was crowded, O virtuous ones, as if filled with stars; Nandi, decked in blossoms, shone gloriously upon the bull’s back. Just as the moon in the sky is surrounded by stars, so too did the gods, along with Indra and Upendra, gaze in wonder upon Nandi in that radiant form. They offered praise to the lord of the hosts, the god of gods, calling him another Rudra: “Salutations to you, devotee of Rudra, ever intent on reciting Rudra’s praises. Salutations to you, dispeller of the suffering of Rudra’s devotees, delighting in fierce deeds, lord of the Kūṣmāṇḍa hosts, master of yogis. Salutations to you, eternal refuge, all-knowing one, remover of distress, lord of the Vedas, and the one to be known through the Vedas. Salutations to the wielder of the thunderbolt, with thunderous fangs, who restrains thunderbolts and is adorned with thunder, worshipped by those who wield the thunderbolt. Salutations to the red-hued one, with red eyes, clad in red garments, who grants Rudra’s realm to those devoted at the feet of Rudra. Salutations to the commander of armies, to the lord of Rudras, to the lord of beings, ruler of the worlds, destroyer of sin. Salutations to Rudra, to the lord of Rudras, to the remover of fierce sins; salutations to Śiva, the gentle one, the devotee of Rudra.” Pleased by their devotion, the leader of the hosts, son of Śiva, spoke to the gods about Śambhu’s chariot, charioteer, bow, and supreme arrow, instructing them: “You must strive with effort, remembering the destruction of the triple city; then, together with Brahmā and Viśvakarman, you should act accordingly.” With great zeal, the gods set about constructing the chariot for the wise god of gods. Then, for god Rudra, Viśvakarman, with care and diligence, fashioned a divine chariot embodying all the worlds. It was composed of all beings, worshipped by all the gods, embodying all the deities, golden, and universally esteemed. The right wheel of the chariot was the Sun, the left the Moon; the right had twelve spokes, the left sixteen. Upon these wheels, O best of Brahmins, the twelve Ādityas were set, and upon the sixteen-spoked left wheel, the phases of the Moon, O virtuous ones.