O best of the twice-born, listen to the mystery of creation as it unfolds. There exist eight fundamental principles, each carrying out the acts of creation, preservation, and destruction. These principles arise from one another and sustain each other; just as a foundation supports that which stands upon it, so too do modifications reside in what is modified. This process is like the tortoise, who extends its limbs and then draws them back—so too does the unmanifest, after producing all modifications, eventually absorb them again. All things arise from the unmanifest according to their nature, and when the appointed time of dissolution arrives, they merge back in reverse order. The qualities—sattva, rajas, and tamas—under the influence of time, become either balanced or unbalanced. When they are perfectly balanced, dissolution occurs; when they are unbalanced, creation takes place. This dense cosmic egg is known as the womb of Brahman, the great field from which all arises. Brahmā is called the knower of this field. Know that there are countless millions of such cosmic eggs, pervading everywhere—horizontally, above, and below—due to the all-pervasiveness of primordial matter. Within each cosmic egg, four-faced Brahmās, Viṣṇus, and Śivas are created by primordial matter, and thus they attain the presence of Śambhu. The great Lord, transcending even the unmanifest, creates the cosmic egg from the unmanifest; from this egg, mighty Brahmā is born, and by him these worlds are fashioned. This creation of primordial matter, which I have described, is the first—initiated without intellect. At the final dissolution, it is wholly absorbed, being but the sport of the Lord. What is remembered as the immeasurable cause—Brahmā, primordial matter, the source of Nature—is without beginning, middle, or end; it is of infinite power, pure, deeply red in hue, and united with spirit. Because of its productive nature and the predominance of rajas, it is the cause of the world's propagation and growth; having produced eight modifications at the beginning, it absorbs them again at the end. All the activities and renewed existence of the causes established by primordial nature occur solely by the will of the great Lord, whose glory is beyond nature. Now, you have inquired about all the Manus and the divisions of kalpas, and within them, the intermediate creations and dissolutions. The supreme half of Brahman's time is the measure of a kalpa's duration; at its end, another time arises, and then re-creation occurs. Day by day, in each previous birth of Brahmā, fourteen great cycles of Manus revolve. These Manus and kalpas, being without beginning or end and unknowable in their entirety, cannot be separately described in words. Even if all were spoken of, what gain would there be for you, O listener? Therefore, I am unable to describe them all in detail. In the kalpa now unfolding, the cycles of creation and dissolution occur in a condensed manner. The current kalpa is called the 'Boar' (Varaha) kalpa; in it too, O best of twice-born, there are fourteen Manus. Beginning with Swayambhuva and ending with the seventh, the Sāvarṇis and others—among them, the seventh Manu, Vaivasvata, now reigns. In all the Manvantaras, creation and dissolution generally take place; thus, one who knows should reason accordingly. When the previous kalpa had ended and the wind of time began to blow, the roots of trees in the forests were torn up. The worlds, as fragile as blades of grass, were burned by the divine fire. Then, when rain fell upon the earth, the oceans overflowed their bounds. All directions were submerged in a vast flood, the waters with their tossing waves and circling arms covering everything. As the fierce dance of the floodwaters began, Brahma, having become Nārāyaṇa, slept peacefully upon the waters. At that time, this mantra-verse was recited in praise of Nārāyaṇa: listen, O best of sages, for its very syllables convey the meaning. The waters are called 'Nara,' and they are indeed the sons of Nara; since they are his resting place, he is remembered as Nārāyaṇa. The accomplished ones, dwelling in the world of beings, with hands joined in reverence, beheld the Lord of the gods engaged in the yogic sleep of Shiva. At dawn, the gods awakened him with hymns of praise, just as the Vedas of old had awakened the Lord at the time of creation and dissolution. Thus awakened, he rose from his couch and emerged from the waters, gazing in all directions, his eyes still heavy with yogic sleep. At that time, he saw nothing distinct from himself; seated in wonder, he entered into profound contemplation. "Where is that blessed, beautiful, and vast earth," he pondered, "adorned with many great mountains, rivers, cities, and forests?" Though he reflected deeply, Brahma could not perceive the state of the earth. Then he remembered his father, the blessed Three-eyed One. By recalling the god of gods, Bhava of immeasurable splendor, the lord of the earth understood that the earth was submerged in the waters. Desiring to raise up the earth, the Lord of creatures recalled the divine boar form, suited for play in the waters. With a form vast as a great mountain, a roar like a mighty cloud, resembling a dark blue storm-cloud, and a blazing, fearsome sound; with thick, round, massive shoulders, a broad and raised waist, short, rounded thighs and legs, and a very sharp, circular snout; with eyes shining like ruby gems, round and terrifying, a body vast and long, and ears stiff and radiant; with breath and exhalation surging, churning the ocean of dissolution, cheeks and shoulders trembling, covered with bristling hair—the Lord manifested as the mighty Boar, ready to rescue the earth.