Having set aside her vow of silence, she now embraced a quietude suffused with modesty—a silence whose ending was noted by the assembled seven sages. Having reached a state of respectful deference, the sages questioned her once more. She, filled with reverence, her face radiant with beauty and a gentle smile, responded with a composed and respectful mind. Observing the sages engaged in peaceful discourse, she spoke, carefully restraining her words: “You, revered ones, surely know what is beneficial for the minds of all beings. Some people, through the workings of their minds, greatly distort things, while others—skilled and diligent—strive with a divine effort. By various means, the diligent attain rare states, while others, more limited, undertake diverse approaches of different kinds. Many act for the sake of gaining another body and its benefits, but I, adorned with a garland of flowers born from the sky, am different. Just as a barren woman yearns time and again for a son, so does my heart long for the blessed god as my husband. By nature unconquerable, he now dwells in austerity; even the gods and demons cannot foresee the outcome of his actions. Now, scorched by the fire of love and yet free from passion, how could someone like me hope to win the favor of such a Shiva?” Hearing her words, the sages, steady in their minds, spoke in turn, seeking to understand her intention and expressing themselves with words true to the matter at hand. “Daughter,” they said, “in this world there are two kinds of happiness: one is the enjoyment of the body, the other is the contentment of the mind. Shiva, by his very nature, is clothed in the directions alone, fearsome, lord of the cremation ground, bearer of skulls, mendicant, naked, with deformed eyes, and steadfast in his actions. He appears intoxicated and mad, gathers dreadful things, and lives as an ascetic. What purpose would you have with him, who is sought in such a form of misfortune? If you now desire enjoyment with this body, why long for the great god, who is so fearsome and repulsive in appearance? He is adorned with ornaments smeared with oozing blood and fat, terrifying with the fierce serpent coiled around his arms. He dwells in cremation grounds, is followed by fierce spirits, and yet—even as the crowns of the lords of gods rub against his feet—he is the slayer of enemies. Consider: there is Hari, the sustainer of the world, beloved of Shri and of infinite form; there is the lord of those who partake of sacrifice, and Indra, wielder of the thunderbolt. There is also Agni, the treasure of the gods, who fulfills all desires, and Vayu, the breath of all beings and sustainer of the world. Likewise, King Vaishravana, all-knowing and supreme in every way—why do you not wish to attain any one of these? Or, by obtaining another body, you could have the happiness your mind desires. In this way, your birth would bring you the highest blessings of heaven, and all auspicious attainments would be yours. All that is not found among the gods belongs to your father alone. Therefore, striving for that is a hardship, and even so, it may be fruitless for you. O blessed one, even when earnestly sought, such a union is very rare and difficult to obtain. Only the creator himself can arrange and accomplish this for you.” Thus addressed, the mountain-born maiden was angered at the eminent sages. Her eyes reddened with wrath, her teeth clenched tightly, and she spoke: “What joy is there in false attachment? Where is restraint in misfortune? Who has set those who misunderstand the true meaning on the path of righteousness? So you see me as foolish, fond of unworthy and false attachments. I have no concern for myself, since I am devoted to such attachments. All of you are like Prajapatis, all-seeing, yet surely you do not know that eternal god, the lord of the world—unborn, lord of all, unmanifest, whose greatness and arising cannot be measured. Let that wondrous realization of the true nature of dharma remain hidden; for even the foremost of gods, beginning with Hari and Brahma, do not know it. Whatever has arisen in the worlds from his own power and is manifest among all beings—even that, do you not know here? Whose is this vast sky? Whose is fire? Whose is wind? Whose is earth? Whose is Varuna? Who has the moon and sun as eyes? Whose emblem do gods and asuras worship with devotion in the worlds, whom the gods, beginning with Brahma and Indra, and the great sages call Lord? Do you not know even their power and origin? Of whom is Aditi the mother? From whom was Janardana born? From Aditi and Kashyapa were born the gods, beginning with Narayana. Kashyapa is the son of Marichi, and Aditi is the daughter of Daksha. Marichi and Daksha are said to be sons of Brahma. Brahma, from the golden egg, possessed divine powers and perfections. From whose meditation did the primordial elements arise, agitated? In the third stage of nature, the act of generating the slayer of Madhu occurred. He was born and created the six classes, each according to their own actions and with intelligence. The Unborn became the creator, born from the unmanifest Brahma. He, by his own yoga, having stirred up nature, made this world. Brahma attained all perfections, lordship, and the role of creator of the worlds. What Vishnu and others always know by their own greatness is this: having assumed another body and another vision, Hari again takes form. He performs the deeds of the world—superior, inferior, and middling; thus indeed is the cycle of existence, whose nature is birth and death. And this is the fruit of action, arising in various forms. Then the god Narayana resorted to his own shadow.” In this way, the maiden and the sages engaged in profound dialogue, each revealing the depths of their understanding and devotion, the story unfolding with reverence for the mysteries of the divine.