Long ago, King Manu, renowned for his extraordinary austerity and steadfast patience, entrusted his kingdom to his son. Free from royal duties, he withdrew to a virtuous region of the Malaya mountains. There, equal in joy and sorrow, the heroic Manu devoted himself to the highest yoga, practicing with unwavering discipline. A hundred thousand years passed in this way, and at last, the lotus-seated Creator, Brahmā, was pleased with Manu’s devotion. Appearing before him, Brahmā said, “Choose your wish.” Manu bowed reverently and replied, “Grandsire, I seek but one unsurpassed boon: when the time of dissolution comes, may I be able to protect all beings, both stationary and moving.” Brahmā, soul of the universe, granted this wish, saying, “Let it be so.” Instantly, he vanished, and a shower of divine flowers, offered by the gods, rained down from the sky as a sign of blessing. One day, as Manu was performing ancestral offerings in his hermitage, a small fish, accompanied by a trickle of water, unexpectedly fell into his hands. Moved by compassion, Manu resolved to protect the little creature and placed it gently in the hollow of his hand. In just one day and night, the fish grew to the width of sixteen fingers and cried out, “Protect me, protect me!” Manu then placed the fish in a small pot of water, but again, within a single night, the fish grew to the size of three hands. The fish pleaded once more, “Protect me, protect me! I have taken refuge in you.” Seeing the fish outgrowing each vessel, Manu transferred it to a well. Yet, the fish quickly outgrew the well too, so Manu moved him to a lake. There, the fish became vast, measuring a yojana in length, and again called out in distress, “Protect me, protect me, best of kings!” Recognizing the fish’s extraordinary nature, Manu carried him to the mighty Ganges River, but even there, the fish continued to grow. At last, Manu released the fish into the ocean itself. Astonishingly, the fish filled the entire ocean. Now truly amazed and a little afraid, Manu addressed the immense being, “Who are you, O lord of the asuras? Or perhaps you are Vāsudeva himself, for who else could possess such a form, spanning twenty thousand yojanas? I have recognized you, Keśava! You trouble me in the form of a fish. Hṛṣīkeśa, lord of the world, abode of the universe, I bow to you.” Hearing these words, the blessed Janārdana, in his fish form, replied, “Well done, well done! You have truly recognized me, sinless one.” Then the divine fish revealed, “Very soon, O king, the earth—with all its mountains, forests, and groves—will be submerged in water. This boat, constructed by all the gods together, stands ready for the protection of the great multitude of living beings. Gather into it all creatures—those born from sweat, eggs, sprouts, and those born alive—every helpless being, and protect them, O virtuous one. When the boat is tossed by the winds at the end of the age, tie it to my horn. Thus secured, you will ride out the dissolution, and at the end, you will become the progenitor of the new world, O king of the earth. At the dawn of the Kṛta Yuga, you, steadfast and all-knowing, will be the lord of the Manvantara, worthy of worship even by the gods.” Hearing this, Manu asked Madhusūdana, “Blessed one, after how many years will this destruction come? And how shall I protect the beings? How will I be united with you again?” The Lord replied, “From today onward, for a hundred years and more, there will be no rain upon the earth—a famine will arise, bringing misfortune. When living beings are few and perishing, the seven terrible rays of the seven suns will appear, raining down burning embers. At the end of the age, the fire of Aurva will become fierce, as will the poison-fire released from the mouth of Sankarṣaṇa in the netherworld, and the fire from the third eye of Bhava. These fires will burn the three worlds, reducing the earth to ashes. The sky itself will be intensely heated, and then the world, with its gods and stars, will come to destruction. “Seven mighty clouds—Saṃvarta, Bhīmanāda, Droṇa, Caṇḍa, Balāhaka, Vidyutpatāka, and Śoṇa—born from the sweat of fire, will flood the earth. The oceans, agitated, will merge together as one. All three worlds will become a single ocean, and you will take up the boat of the Vedas and all the seeds of beings. Fasten the boat with the rope I give you, and secure it to my horn. Protected by me in the form of a fish, you alone will remain among the gods, even as they are consumed, together with Brahmā, the sun and moon, and the four worlds. “The sacred river Narmadā, the great sage Mārkaṇḍeya, Bhava, the Vedas, the Purāṇas, and all the sciences—these, too, will endure, surrounded on every side. With you, this universe will persist through the intermediate dissolution. When the one ocean arises at the end of the Cākṣuṣa epoch, at the beginning of your creation, O king, I will set forth the Vedas anew.” Having spoken thus, the Blessed Lord vanished. Manu, filled with divine grace, devoted himself to the yoga revealed by Vāsudeva, practicing steadfastly until the great, foretold flood arrived.