O noble king, listen as the measure of cosmic time is revealed. The Seven Sages, the gods, Indra, Manu, and his sons—all are created and dissolved together, their existence bound to the cycles of time. The span of four yugas combined is counted as a little more than seventy-one, and this period is known as a manvantara—the era of Manu and the gods. By divine reckoning, a manvantara is eight hundred thousand units, and with fifty-two thousand added, the total reaches thirty crores. Beyond that, there are sixty-seven niyutas and twenty thousand more, marking the full measure of a manvantara in human years. When this time is multiplied by fourteen, it forms a single day of Brahmā, the Creator. This day, called naimittika, ends in dissolution: the three worlds—Bhū, Bhuvaḥ, and others—are consumed by fire. The residents of Maharloka, overwhelmed by the heat, ascend to Jana-loka. As the three worlds become one vast ocean, Brahmā, the greatest knower of Brahman, rests upon the serpent-bed, having absorbed the worlds within himself. The steadfast yogis of Jana-loka contemplate him, the Lord of the universe. After a night of equal duration, Brahmā creates anew. Thus, a year of Brahmā passes, and a hundred such years mark his supreme lifespan. Of these, one parārdha has elapsed, and now the second parārdha is underway. At the end of the first parārdha, the renowned Pādma kalpa concluded, and now, O king, we are in the second. The Varaha is the first kalpa conceived in this cycle. At the dawn of the kalpa, the Blessed One called Brahma-Narayana created all beings. As Pulastya the sage explained, at the end of the previous kalpa, when the long night had passed and the Lord awoke, Brahma, filled with sattva, saw the world empty. He realized the earth was submerged beneath the waters and, pondering deeply, wished to raise her up. Recognizing Vishnu’s form, the Lord entered the shape of a boar, distinct from fish, tortoise, and other incarnations. Assuming a form composed of the Vedas and sacrifice, he—the Supreme Self, the steadfast Self of all—stood ready to support the world. Then, as the bearer of the earth, he entered the waters, their very foundation. There, the goddess Vasundhara had reached the nethermost realm. Bowing in devotion, she praised him, humble in worship. Prithivi, the earth, spoke: “Salutations to you, who are all beings; salutations to you, Supreme Self. Lift me up from here today, for I arose from you before. Salutations to you, Soul of all beings, who are both manifest and unmanifest, who are time itself. You are creator, protector, and destroyer.” She continued, “At the beginning of creation, you, Supreme Brahman, assumed the forms of Vishnu, Rudra, and Atman, consuming all when the world became a single ocean. You alone, O Govinda, remain at the end, contemplated by the wise. Your supreme form is beyond knowing. The forms you assume in your descents are worshipped by the gods; those seeking liberation worship you as Supreme Brahman and attain release. Who, without worshipping Vasudeva, could attain liberation? The forms of yours grasped by the mind, apprehended by the senses, comprehended by the intellect—all are yours. I am pervaded, supported, and created by you; I take refuge in you. Therefore, the world calls me Madhavi.” Thus praised by the earth, the bearer of the earth—glorious—roared with a sound like the Sama Veda and the rumble of clouds. The great boar, his eyes like blossoming lotuses, lifted the earth with his own tusk and rose from the netherworld, resembling a blue mountain and a lotus petal. As he ascended, the wind from his mouth struck the waters, purifying the sages who had taken refuge in Janaloka—sinless ones like Sanandana. The waters, disturbed by his sharp hooves, descended to the netherworld with a continuous sound; the breath-winds of the praised clouds moved all around. As the great boar, his belly soaked with water, rose up, tearing the earth free, the sages dwelling within the hair pores of his Veda-formed body rejoiced as he shook himself. “O supreme Lord, O Keśava, master of men, wielder of mace, conch, and discus,” they prayed, “you are the cause of creation, destruction, and preservation. You alone are the highest; there is no other supreme abode. In your feet are the Vedas, your tusks the sacrificial posts, sacrifices and scriptures are in your teeth and mouth; fire is on your tongue, blades of grass are your body hair. O Lord, you alone are the embodiment of sacrifice. The space between heaven and earth, of incomparable power, is filled by your form alone; the entire world is pervaded by you, O Lord, for the welfare of all. You alone are the supreme soul; there is no other, O Lord of the world.” “This is your greatness, by which all that moves and does not move is pervaded; the entire world is of the nature of knowledge, though the ignorant do not perceive it. Those who see only material nature wander adrift on the raft of darkness, but those with pure minds perceive the whole world. Those who perceive your form as knowledge, O supreme Lord, please be gracious, O soul of all beings, for the welfare of the world. Lift up this earth, O lotus-eyed one, who is immeasurable; O blessed Govinda, full of goodness—raise this earth.” Thus, the earth was lifted, and the world rejoiced in the greatness and grace of the Supreme Lord.