Adorned in dazzling ornaments of jewels and decorated with radiant gems, the divine form shone forth, resplendent like a mass of dark clouds illumined by flashes of lightning. Taking on that immense and boundless form of the Boar, the Creator entered the netherworld, intent on raising up the earth from the depths where she had sunk. In that moment, the Boar—enormous as a mountain—glowed with a surpassing brilliance, as if he himself, in the form of a linga, had reached the very feet of the Great Lord. With mighty strength, the earth-bearer lifted the earth from the waters, gently embracing her with his tusks, and rose up from the netherworld, carrying her aloft. At the sight of this wondrous act, the sages, siddhas, and all the inhabitants of the world of men rejoiced. They danced in delight and showered fragrant flowers upon the Boar’s noble head. The great Boar’s dark body, now covered in blossoms, shone like a black mountain aglow with countless fireflies. Having restored the earth to her proper place, the mighty Boar assumed his own divine form and firmly established her. He arranged the earth, placing the mountains upon her, and recreated the four worlds, beginning with Bhū, just as they had been before. Thus, with the great mountains set below and the earth stabilized amidst the waters of the great deluge, Viśvakarman once more brought forth the world of moving and unmoving beings. As he contemplated creation, his thoughts turned inward in deep meditation. Yet, at that very moment, a darkness arose—a delusion, a great shadow comprising Tāmisra, Andha, and ignorance—emerging from the depths of the great soul. This fivefold darkness enveloped the nascent creation, so that everywhere, like a seed hidden in a pot, all was shrouded in gloom. Within and without, there was no light. All was still and insensible, and the intellect, mouths, and senses of beings were covered. Because their true selves were veiled, these first beings became known as the chief trees. Seeing that this first creation was unproductive, Brahmā grew displeased and turned his mind to devising a second creation. From his intention, a new stream of creation flowed, this time with a lateral movement. These beings, whose inner illumination was sideways and whose outer selves were shrouded, became the animals—creatures led astray from the path of righteousness. Yet, finding this too unsatisfactory, Brahmā considered yet another creation. From his contemplation arose the creation with upward flow—the divine beings, marked by purity. These were abundant in happiness and delight, uncovered both within and without, radiant in every aspect, and so were naturally named. Then, through further meditation, the creation with downward flow came into being—this was the human creation, marked by intense suffering. These beings, though radiant inside and out, were dominated by darkness and excessive passion. The fifth was the creation of grace, and thus the fourfold creation was established. By reversal, through power, satisfaction, and accomplishment, these creations became non-possessive and devoted to sharing. The beings beginning with the elements were described as eaters and lacking in proper conduct. The first creation, arising from the Great Principle, was of Brahmā, the supreme lord. The second was the creation of the elements from their subtle essences, called the elemental creation. The third, arising from the senses, was known as the sensory creation. Thus, the creation of nature was completed, arising without intellect, and the fourth main creation was that of immobile beings. The creation with lateral flow, belonging to animals, was the fifth. The creation with upward flow, the divine, was the sixth. The creation with downward flow, the seventh, was human. The eighth was the creation of grace, and the ninth was called the child creation. Of these, the first three arose naturally and without intellect, while the five beginning with the main creation proceeded with intellect and are called modified. In the beginning, Brahmā created from his mind those who were alike in nature: Sananda, Sanaka, and the wise Sanātana. The progenitor also created Ṛbhu and Sanatkumāra. All these were yogis, free from passion and envy, their minds ever attached to the Lord, uninterested in further creation. When Sanaka and the others departed, indifferent to the work of creation, Brahmā, desiring to create again, undertook supreme austerity. Yet, despite his efforts, nothing new came forth. After a long period, sorrow overtook him, and from his sorrow arose anger. As anger seized him, drops of tears fell from his eyes. From those tears, beings known as pretas came into existence. Seeing these beings born of his tears, Brahmā became displeased with himself. Overcome by anger and resentment, a severe fainting overtook him, and the lord of creatures, losing his life-breath, became unconscious. At this moment, the Lord of Life, Rudra—the blessed one, blue and red in hue—emerged from the mouth of the Supreme to bestow incomparable grace. The Lord, sovereign and mighty, made himself tenfold and also single, addressing those great souls thus multiplied. He spoke to them: “You have been created by me, dear ones, for the benefit of the worlds. Therefore, strive diligently for the establishment and welfare of all beings, so that the continuation of creation may be assured.” Thus addressed, the Rudras wept and fled in all directions. Because of their weeping and running, they became known as ‘Rudras.’ These Rudras are the very life-breaths, and those life-breaths are indeed great souls. Then, to Brahmā, who had fallen as if dead, the supreme lord, the compassionate Maheshvara, son of Brahmā, graciously restored the life-breaths, bringing him back to life.