Listen, O best of gods, to the wondrous tale of the beginning. Before all worlds, there appeared that which cannot be compared, described, or manifest—the source of the universe itself. Its thousandfold radiance bewildered even the blessed Hari, who stood before it, awed by its brilliance. In his confusion, Hari turned to me and proposed, “Let us test this fire-born pillar. I will go downward to the matchless, fiery column.” He instructed, “You, with effort, should quickly go upward.” Having spoken thus, the Soul of the Universe assumed his own form. Swiftly, I took the form of a boar, while the gods witnessed Hari transforming into a swan. From that time, they called me ‘Hamsa,’ the Great Swan. Whoever invokes me as ‘Hamsa, Hamsa’ shall become a swan—pure white, fire-eyed, and winged on all sides. As swift as mind and wind, I soared upward. Meanwhile, Narayana, the Soul of the Universe, dark as black collyrium, assumed the form of a boar—ten yojanas wide and a hundred yojanas long, with the stature of Mount Meru, pale, with sharp, prominent fangs. His body shone like the sun at the end of time, with a long snout, a mighty voice, short legs, wondrous limbs, victorious and firm. Taking this boar’s form, Vishnu hurried downward for a thousand years, seeking the base of the linga. Yet, even after such effort, he could not find its end. For the same length of time, I, the destroyer of foes, ascended upward, longing to discover its summit. Despite all speed and effort, I grew weary. Not seeing its limit, pride led me to descend. Similarly, Vishnu, exhausted and his eyes trembling with fatigue, rose up swiftly, his great form visible to all the gods. He joined me, bowed with a great mind, and, deluded by Shambhu’s maya, stood with his heart disturbed. Together, we bowed behind, beside, and before the Supreme Lord, wondering, “What is this?” Then, a sound arose, marked by the syllable ‘Om, Om,’ clear and prolonged. Thinking, “What is this?” I stood listening to that great sound. Then I saw, on the right side of the linga, the eternal one. I beheld the first letter, ‘A,’ shining like the solar orb on the right; ‘U’ blazing like fire on the left; ‘M’ in the middle; and at the end, the sound ‘Om.’ The first letter shone like the sun, ‘U’ blazed like fire, and the middle syllable ‘ma’ gleamed like the moon. Above it stood the Lord, pure as crystal—beyond the fourth state, immortal, without parts, undisturbed, free from duality, absolute, void, devoid of inner and outer, yet possessing both and abiding within them. He is without beginning, middle, or end, the cause even of bliss. There are three measures and a half-measure called ‘nāda,’ known as Brahman. Madhava is present in the measures of Ṛg, Yajur, and Sāma Vedas. From the words of the Vedas, the Lord contemplated the soul of the universe; the sage became the Veda, and from the sage arose the pure essence. By that sage, Vishnu understood the Supreme Lord; Rudra, free from thought, contemplated Him with speech and mind. Those who do not attain Him turn back. He is expressed by the single syllable; by that syllable, the truth and supreme cause are spoken—truth, bliss, immortality, the supreme Brahman, higher than the highest. From the syllable ‘a,’ the Lord, born of the golden egg, arose. From ‘u,’ Hari, the supreme cause; from ‘ma,’ the Lord Nīlalohita. The creator is called ‘a’; ‘u’ is the deluder; ‘ma’ bestows grace. ‘Ma’ is the seed-holder, ‘a’ the seed, ‘u’ is Hari, the womb, the lord of Pradhāna and Puruṣa. The seed-holder and the seed, the womb, and ‘nāda’ is Maheśvara. The seed-holder, dividing himself by his own will, is established. From this linga arose the seed ‘a,’ of the seed-holder Lord, placed in the womb of ‘u,’ growing in all directions. A golden egg came into being, enveloping the first syllable. For many years, a divine sphere was established in the waters. After a thousand years, the egg, born without origin, was split in two, resting in the waters by the Lord called the First. Its auspicious golden shell became the heavens above; what was below became the earth, with its five characteristics. From that egg was born ‘a,’ called the four-faced one—the creator of all worlds, the Lord in three forms. Thus ‘om om’ is spoken, say the best of the Yajur Veda, and the Ṛg and Sāma Vedas honor these words. In this way, O Hari, O Brahman, so say the Vedas. Having understood the Lord of the gods as described in the Vedas, with mantras born from them, we praised the great Lord, the supreme deity. Pleased by our praise, the stainless one abided in the linga. Assuming a divine, sound-formed shape, he stood there smiling. The letter ‘a’ is his head, his forehead is called long. ‘i’ is his right eye, ‘ī’ his left eye; ‘u’ is his right ear, and ‘ū’ his left. Thus, O gods, the mystery of the linga, the syllables, and the forms was revealed, and the glory of the Supreme Lord shone forth for all to see.