In those ancient days, the mighty city of Pattana stood as a treasury, inhabited by sages and heroes, surrounded by the great villages of the Magadhas, Mundas, and Shungas. The lands of the Suhmas, Mallas, Videhas, Malavas, and the famed Kashi-Kosalas flourished nearby, while even the dwelling place of Garuda trembled under the assault of the lord of the Daityas. There, too, was a wondrous city crafted by Vishvakarma, gleaming like the peak of Kailasa itself. Beyond it lay the terrifying Lauhitya ocean, its red waters churning ominously. Rising above this landscape was the magnificent Udaya mountain, soaring a hundred yojanas high, crowned with a golden platform that gleamed splendidly and was often embraced by rows of clouds. The mountain shone with trees of gold, radiant as the sun, adorned with groves of shala, tala, tamala, and blossoming karnikara trees. Not far off stood the renowned Ayomukha mountain, resplendent with minerals, and the auspicious Malaya mountain, fragrant with tamala groves. Across the land, kingdoms and peoples flourished: Surashtra with Bahlika, the valorous Shurabhiras, the Bhojas, Pandyas, Vangas, Kalingas, and Tamraliptakas. The Undras, Paundras, Vamacudas, and the people of Kerala all dwelt in their own domains—yet all these lands and their denizens, including the hosts of gods and apsaras, were shaken by the wrath of the Daitya lord. The once-inaccessible abode of the sage Agastya stood nearby, its enchanting assembly of siddhas and charanas now scattered. The region teemed with wondrous birds and blossoming trees, golden peaks resounding with the melodious songs of apsaras. Among these marvels stood Giripushpitaka mountain, rich in fortune and beauty, rising from the ocean’s depths, providing rest to the moon and sun, its towering peaks seeming to scratch the very sky. Bathed in the radiance of sun and moon, wrapped by the ocean’s waters, it sparkled, adorned with lightning, stretching a hundred yojanas across. Where lightning flashed upon the lofty heights, the illustrious mountain Ṛṣabha stood firm. There, too, was the splendid Kuñjara mountain, home to the auspicious abode of Agastya—a formidable city, broad-eyed, serving as the dwelling place of serpents. The city of Bhogavatī, too, trembled beneath the Daitya’s might, as did the great mountains Mahāsena and Pāriyātra. Cakravān, foremost of mountains, Vārāha, and the golden city of Prāgjyotiṣa all lay in awe. Within Prāgjyotiṣa dwelt the wicked-hearted demon Naraka, while the mighty Megha mountain echoed with thunderous roars. In this vast region, O best of the twice-born, sixty thousand mountains rose, with Meru shining among them, radiant as a newly risen sun. Its caves were frequented by Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, and Gandharvas, while nearby stood the great mountains Hemagarbha and Hemasakha. Even Kailāsa, lord of mountains, was shaken by the king of the Dānavas. The golden-lotus-covered lake Vaikhānasa lay there, as did the lake Mānasa, teeming with swans and cranes. The mountains Triśṛṅga and Uśīrabindu, the river Kumārī, and Candraprastha, king of peaks, were all present, their beauty unmatched. Mountains sacred to Prajāpati, Puṣkara, Devābhra, and Reṇuka adorned the land, along with Krauñca, the mountain of the Seven Sages, and Dhūmravarṇa. All these mountains, regions, and peoples, together with the rivers and oceans, were shaken by the demon’s onslaught. Even Kapila, son of the earth, and Vyāghravān were disturbed. The sky-dwellers, the sons of Satī, the beings of the underworld, and the fierce host named Megha, armed with elephant goads, all trembled. Those who soared upward with terrible speed, the mace-bearer, the spear-wielder, Karāla, and Hiraṇyakaśipu himself—all were shaken. Hiraṇyakaśipu, the heroic enemy of the gods born of Diti, was like a dense mass of clouds, roaring like thunder, swift as a storm. He rushed upon Nṛsiṃha, the lion-man incarnation of the Lord. Leaping forth, Nṛsiṃha tore the Daitya apart in battle with his sharp claws, the sound of 'Om' resounding, and thus the demon was slain. With the destruction of Diti’s son, peace returned to the earth, time, moon, sky, planets, sun, all directions, rivers, mountains, and great oceans. The delighted gods and sages, rich in austerity, praised the primeval and eternal God with divine names. They sang: “O God, this form of Narasiṃha which you have manifested—those who know the highest and the lowest will worship only this. You are Brahmā, Rudra, and Mahendra, O best of gods. You are the creator and destroyer, the imperishable origin of the worlds. You are the supreme attainment, the supreme deity, the supreme mantra, the supreme offering, the supreme dharma, the supreme universe—the foremost, ancient Person. You are the supreme body, the supreme Brahman, the supreme yoga, the supreme speech, the supreme secret, the supreme goal—the foremost, ancient Person. You are the supreme state, the supreme god, the supreme being—beyond even the highest—the foremost, ancient Person. You are the supreme secret, the supreme greatness, the supreme vastness—beyond even the highest—the foremost, ancient Person. You are the supreme repository, supreme purity, supreme restraint—beyond even the highest—the foremost, ancient Person.” Having thus spoken, the blessed Lord, ancestor of all worlds, praised Nārāyaṇa and departed to the world of Brahmā. Then, as the drums resounded and the apsarases danced in joy, Hari, the Lord, made his way to the northern shore of the Milky Ocean.