When Brahmā, the great Creator, awoke from his deep yogic slumber, he rose from his couch and emerged from the cosmic waters. His eyes, still heavy with the residue of divine sleep, gazed in all directions, seeking to comprehend the world around him. Yet, as he looked, he saw nothing distinct from himself; all was a vast sameness. Seated in awe and wonder, Brahmā entered into profound contemplation. He pondered, “Where is that blessed, beautiful, and expansive earth, adorned with mighty mountains, flowing rivers, bustling cities, and lush forests?” But despite his searching, the earth remained hidden from his sight; he could not discern her state or location. In that moment, Brahmā remembered his father, the blessed Three-eyed One—Mahādeva, the god of gods, Bhava of immeasurable splendor. By recalling this supreme Lord, Brahmā came to understand that the earth had become submerged in the cosmic waters. Wishing to raise up the earth, the Lord of creatures remembered the divine form of the boar, an avatar well-suited for play and work within the waters. In a flash, Brahmā assumed a form vast as a great mountain, his roar echoing like a mighty thundercloud. His new body was dark as a storm-laden sky, and his voice blazed forth, fierce and awe-inspiring. His shoulders were thick, round, and massive; his waist broad and raised; his thighs and legs short and powerful; and his snout sharp and circular. His eyes shone like terrifying ruby gems, his form immense and long, his ears stiff and radiant. With each breath and exhalation, he churned the ocean of dissolution, his cheeks and shoulders trembling, covered in bristling hair. He was adorned with ornaments of jewels, decorated with great gems, resplendent like a mass of clouds lit by lightning. Assuming this immense and boundless boar form, the Creator entered the netherworld, intent on raising up the earth. As the Boar, he shone with a brilliance like a mountain, as if he were a linga at the feet of the Great Lord. He found the earth, sunken in the depths, and, lifting her tenderly with his mighty tusks, he rose up from the netherworld, embracing her. The sages, siddhas, and all beings rejoiced at this wondrous sight. They danced and showered flowers upon the Boar’s head. His vast body, covered in blossoms, glowed like a dark mountain illuminated by flickering fireflies. Having restored the earth to her rightful place, the mighty Boar assumed his own divine form once more and established her firmly. He arranged the earth, set the mountains upon her, and created the four worlds, beginning with Bhū, just as before. In this way, amidst the great deluge, he placed the earth and her mountains below, and above, Viśvakarman again created the world of moving and unmoving beings. As Brahmā contemplated the act of creation, focusing his mind in deliberate thought, a great delusion arose—an all-encompassing darkness. This darkness, delusion, great delusion, and what is called Tāmisra and Andha, as well as ignorance, emerged from the great soul of Brahmā himself. Thus, the first creation, established in a fivefold form, became enveloped everywhere by darkness, like a seed hidden within a pot. There was no light, neither within nor without; all was motionless and insensible. The intellect, mouths, and senses of beings were covered. Because their true selves were hidden, these beings became known as the chief trees. Seeing that this first creation was unproductive, Brahmā became displeased and contemplated a second creation. From his intention, a stream of creation with a lateral flow arose. These beings possessed inner illumination that moved sideways, yet were outwardly covered. Thus, the animal-natured beings were born, but they too were led astray from the right path. Recognizing this creation also as unsuccessful, Brahmā considered another act of creation. Then arose the creation with an upward flow—the divine creation, marked by purity. These beings were abundant in happiness and delight, uncovered both outwardly and inwardly, radiant within and without, and so were naturally named. From further contemplation, Brahmā brought forth the creation with a downward flow—this is the human creation, marked by intense suffering. Humans are radiant both outwardly and inwardly, but are dominated by darkness and excessive passion. The fifth is known as the creation of grace, and thus the fourfold creation was established. Through reversal, power, satisfaction, and accomplishment, all these beings became non-possessive and again devoted to sharing. Those beings beginning with the elements are described as eaters and lacking in proper conduct. The first creation from the Great Principle is that of Brahmā, the supreme lord. The second is the creation of the elements from subtle essences, known as the elemental creation. The third, arising from the senses, is called the sensory creation. Thus, the creation of nature was completed, arising without intellect. The fourth main creation is that of immobile beings, so recognized. The fifth, as described, is the lateral creation, belonging to animals. The sixth, with upward flow, is the divine creation. The seventh, with downward flow, is the human creation. The eighth is the creation of grace, and the ninth is called the child creation. The first three creations arise naturally, without intellect, while the five beginning with the main creation proceed with intellect and are called modified. In the beginning, Brahmā created from his mind those who were alike: Sananda, Sanaka, and the wise Sanātana. The progenitor also created Ṛbhu and Sanatkumāra. All these are to be known as great yogis, free from passion and envy. Their minds ever attached to the Supreme Lord, they did not incline toward creation. When Sanaka and the others departed, indifferent to the work of creation, Brahmā’s task of populating the worlds continued, ever guided by the divine will.