When the question arose—What is the linga, and who is the lingin?—the Grandfather, Brahma, replied: The principal linga is that which has been declared, and the lingin is none other than the Supreme Lord Himself. Brahma continued, “O best of gods, during the time when creation was withdrawn and the celestial beings, along with the sages, had gone to the world of Janas, Vishnu was present for my protection amidst the cosmic ocean. When the period of maintenance reached its end—after a thousand cycles of the four ages—the gods ascended to the world of truth. At the close of Brahma’s own time, when all things were equal and there was no ruler, the entire world became parched by a total drought, causing all immovable things to dry up everywhere. Cattle, humans, trees, flesh-eating spirits, Gandharvas, and other beings were all consumed in succession by the scorching rays of the sun. In that one dreadful ocean, enveloped by darkness on all sides, the self of yoga—pure and undisturbed—slept serenely upon the waters. This being had a thousand heads, a thousand eyes, a thousand feet, a thousand arms—he was the all-knowing soul of the universe, the origin of all the gods. Hiranyagarbha, by the qualities of rajas and tamas, is Shankara himself; by sattva, Vishnu pervades all. Maheshvara is the soul of everything. The soul of time, whose very navel is time itself, is white; the black one is without qualities. Narayana, mighty-armed, is the soul of all, composed of both existence and non-existence. Seeing him thus—lotus-eyed and lying down—I was overcome by his maya and, angered, I spoke to him. I asked, “Who are you?” and, grasping the eternal one by the hand, I struck him with a strong and intense blow. Awakened by this, he rose from his bed and, sitting for a moment with self-control, gazed at me with eyes clear and unclouded by sleep. Before me stood the blessed Hari, radiant and resplendent. Rising, the Lord greeted me with a single, sweet smile and said, “Welcome, welcome, child, O illustrious Grandfather!” Hearing these words, I, the foremost of the gods, smiled in return, though I was bound by passion and enmity. I spoke to Janardana, “Why do you call me ‘child, child,’ you who are the cause of creation and dissolution? With a slight smile, you address me—faultless one—as a teacher would his disciple, though I am the direct creator of the worlds and the initiator of Nature. You call me the eternal, unborn Vishnu, the creator, the source of the universe, the soul of all, the maker, the supporter, the lotus-eyed one. For what reason, out of delusion, do you speak thus? You should quickly declare the truth.” Then he said to me, “I am the creator of the worlds—behold! You are the sustainer and destroyer, descended from my imperishable body. You have forgotten Narayana, the lord of the universe, free from affliction. The supreme person, the supreme soul, the much-invoked, the most praised among men, Vishnu, the unchanging lord, the origin and source of the universe. You have committed no fault here; this is all caused by my maya. Hear the truth, four-faced one: this is the lord of all the gods. I alone am the creator, leader, and destroyer; there is no equal to me, O mighty one. I alone am the supreme Brahman, the highest reality, O Grandfather. I alone am the supreme light, the supreme soul, the all-pervading one. Whatever is seen or heard in this world, moving or unmoving, is all within me. Know, O four-faced one, that all this is made of me. Formerly, I created the unmanifest, the group of twenty-four principles, by myself. The eternal atoms, bound together, were created—anger and other qualities arising. By your grace, many eggs are produced here in sport. Intellect was created by me; from it, the threefold ego arose. From that, the five subtle elements; from them, the mind and the six senses. The elements beginning with space, and their gross forms, were created by me in sport.” When he had spoken thus, and I too had replied in kind, a fierce and hair-raising battle arose between us in the midst of the ocean of dissolution, both of us bound by passion and enmity. At that very moment, before us, a shining linga appeared, to end our dispute and awaken understanding. It was adorned with thousands of garlands of flames, resembling hundreds of fires of destruction, free from growth and decay, without beginning, middle, or end. That which is incomparable, indescribable, unmanifest, and the source of the universe—by its thousandfold blaze, even the blessed Hari was bewildered. Hari said to me, “Let us test this fire-born pillar. I will go downward to the matchless, fiery column, and you, with effort, should quickly go upward.” Having spoken thus, the Soul of the Universe assumed his own form. I swiftly took the form of a swan and ascended, while Hari took the form of a boar and descended. From that time, I was called Hamsa, the Great Swan. Whoever invokes me as ‘Hamsa, Hamsa’ shall become a swan—pure white, fire-eyed, and endowed with wings on all sides. Becoming as swift as the mind and wind, I went upward, O gods; and Narayana, the Soul of the Universe, dark as a mass of black collyrium, assumed a boar’s form, ten yojanas wide and a hundred yojanas long, with the stature of Mount Meru, pale, with sharp, prominent fangs. He shone with the radiance of the sun at the end of time, with a long snout, a mighty voice, short legs, wondrous limbs, victorious, firm, and incomparable. Taking the boar’s dark form, he went downward; thus, for a thousand years, Vishnu hastened below. Yet the boar did not see even a little of the base of the linga; and for the same length of time, I, the destroyer of foes, went upward, seeking its summit.