At the appointed time, true to my vow, I undertook the sacred act. Yet, quite unexpectedly, words sprang forth and lingered on my lips. What I had long pondered—something never before seen or heard—now, stirred by anger, I placed a binding upon the chief of the Daityas. The wealth and beauty once bestowed upon Kaśyapa seemed to wane, and I wondered: has this wind lost its strength, or are the winds themselves unsettled? My vision flickered and strayed, as though my very thoughts had assumed form before me. In that moment of confusion, I uttered words that felt unworthy, uncertain what more to say. Troubled by doubt, she, with a heart in constant turmoil, bore within herself the divine Lord for a thousand celestial years. Then, wondrously, from her was born the Dwarf—Vāmana—whose birth robbed the Dānavas of their very sight. At the instant Janārdana, the Lord of gods, took birth, the rivers ran with pure waters, and fragrant breezes swept the land. Kaśyapa rejoiced at the radiance of his son, and all living beings throughout the three worlds were filled with fresh enthusiasm. As Janārdana, Lord of beings, was born, celestial drums resounded in the heavens, struck by the assembled gods. Such was the joy that all delusion and suffering vanished from the three worlds. Hosts of Gandharvas sang with deep devotion, accompanied by radiant spirits. Divine women, overcome with emotion, danced alongside groups of Apsarases, while Vidyādharas and Siddhas, delighted, roamed about in their celestial chariots. They spoke wisely, discerning truth from falsehood, demonstrating their skills in countless ways. Their melodious songs, sung with passions subdued, stirred within them both sorrow and joy. Those who had attained heaven through righteousness danced in celebration, and from that place, they ascended still higher, free from sorrow, longing for bliss in the pure world beyond darkness. In the sky, some voices cried out, “Victory, victory, O Lord!” while others rejoiced in their hearts. Amidst these continuous cries and the echoing of joy, some meditated in secret upon the mysteries of birth, fear, old age, and death. Thus, the entire universe was filled with happiness. Then Brahmā approached the supreme Viṣṇu and spoke for the sake of the world: “This Vāmana, though Lord of all, is born for your welfare. He is Brahmā and Viṣṇu; he is indeed Maheśvara. He is the Vedas, the sacrifices, and heaven itself—of this there is no doubt. The entire world, moving and unmoving, is pervaded by Viṣṇu. Though one, he is known as the Self-born, appearing in manifold forms. Just as a crystal reflects the colors of its surroundings, so does the Self-born manifest according to the qualities present. Just as the household fire may be known by other names and then return to its original designation, so too does the Blessed Lord receive various names among Brāhmaṇas and others.” The devoted dwellers of heaven understood: in every way, the god Vāmana would accomplish the task of the gods. Accompanied by Śakra, Vāmana journeyed to the splendid city of Bāṣkala. From afar, he beheld the city, beautifully encircled and adorned with pale birds fit for riding, glittering with every kind of jewel, and resplendent with great mansions and well-laid avenues. The city shone with elephants in rut, dark as the mountain Anjana, descended from divine lineages and numbering in the hundreds. Graceful horses with lean limbs, small ears, swift as thought, long necks, and proud foreheads added to its charm. Thousands of courtesans, golden as the lotus heart and with faces like the full moon, skilled in playful speech and jest, graced the city. No merit, knowledge, art, or skill was absent from Bāṣkala. It was crowded with gardens, vibrant with festivals and gatherings, and filled with the foremost Dānavas—save for the one destined to end their line. Everywhere resounded the music of vīṇās, flutes, and drums, while the Dānavas, always joyful and adorned with many jewels, reveled in their happiness. They played as the immortals do upon Mount Meru, and the elder Dānavas chanted the Vedas with great sound. The smoke of clarified butter from their fires purified the air, and sweet incense filled the city with fragrance. In this perfumed city, the great Dānava, having brought the three worlds under his sway, dwelled in happiness. He ruled over all that moved and stood still, wise in righteousness, grateful, truthful, and self-controlled. Handsome and discerning, he was skilled in policy, devoted to Brahmins, a refuge for all, and compassionate to the distressed. Empowered by Vedic mantras, possessed of every power, enthusiastic in all sixfold policies, he greeted all with a smile. He knew the essence of the Vedas and their branches, performed sacrifices, was devoted to austerity, refrained from evil, and was nonviolent everywhere. Honoring and being honored, pure in conduct, pleasant-faced, worshipped and worshipper both, he understood all purposes, was unassailable, fortunate, and pleasing to behold. His rule brought abundance in grain, wealth, and vehicles; he always fulfilled the three aims of life and was foremost among men in the three worlds. Ever dwelling in his own city, he destroyed the pride of gods and demons alike, protecting all beings in the three worlds. Under his reign, no one among the demons was base, poor, afflicted, short-lived, or unhappy. None were foolish, ugly, unfortunate, or rejected. All recognized in him pure qualities and unwavering resolve.