When Brahmā, the Four-Faced Creator, stood bewildered, he was gently told, “You have committed no offense here; it is my māyā that has deluded you. By my grace, this confusion will soon be dispelled.” The voice continued, “Hear the truth, O Four-Faced One: I am the Lord of all the gods, the creator, sustainer, and destroyer. There is no one equal to me in power.” Yet, despite these words, a great dispute arose between Brahmā and Viṣṇu. Their contention escalated into a fierce and terrifying battle, so intense that it made the hair stand on end. They struck each other with their fists, both burning with passion and enmity. This battle was not mere violence, but a play of the divine, meant to humble their pride and awaken them to a higher truth. Suddenly, in the very midst of their struggle, a wondrous and divine liṅga appeared before them. It was adorned with thousands of blazing flames, immeasurable and incomparable, beyond all increase or decay—without beginning, middle, or end. Its brilliance and mystery bewildered both Brahmā and Viṣṇu, who, abandoning their conflict, gazed upon it in awe and wondered, “What is this?” Despite their powers, neither could comprehend the true nature of that being. Determined to uncover its secret, the two gods resolved to find its limits. Brahmā took the form of a majestic swan, spreading his wings in all directions, and, propelled by his mind and the winds, soared upward with great effort. Viṣṇu, the soul of the universe, transformed into an endless boar, dark as collyrium, and delved downward. For a thousand years, Viṣṇu hastened downward as the boar, yet could not find even the slightest root of the liṅga. For the same span, Brahmā traveled upward, seeking its summit. Exhausted and defeated, he could not see its end and fell into error. Likewise, Viṣṇu, weary and troubled, rose up from below, afflicted by great hardship. Meeting once again, Brahmā and Viṣṇu looked upon each other with wonder and a faint smile, both still veiled by Śambhu’s māyā, unable to discern what should be done. They circled the liṅga, standing behind, beside, and before it, bowing in reverence and pondering, “What is this self?” Then, accompanied by a resonant sound, the single-syllabled Brahman appeared—the sacred syllable “Om,” which signifies Brahman itself. Yet, at that time, neither Brahmā nor Viṣṇu recognized it, for their minds were clouded by rajas and tamas. That single syllable then divided itself into four: “a,” “u,” “m,” and, surpassing these three, a subtle half-measure. The “a” was placed on the right side of the blazing liṅga, the “u” on the left, and the “m” in the center. The nāda, the half-measure, was heard at the summit of the liṅga. Even when thus divided, that supreme syllable, praṇava, remained present. For the sake of manifestation, the two gods still could not comprehend anything. At that time, the unmanifest praṇava, whose essence is the Veda, underwent transformation. There, “a” became the Ṛg, the imperishable “u” became the Yajur, “m” became the Sāman, and nāda became the Atharvaṇic revelation. From its essence, Ṛg established its own tenfold meanings: Brahmā, foremost among forms, in his functions and the quality of rajas; creation in the worlds; earth among the elements; the imperishable self; withdrawal along the path of kalā; and the five Brahmas. In the lower part of the liṅga, in the triad of causes called the seed, the sixty-fourfold mastery over powers beginning with aṇimā. Thus, with these ten meanings, the universe was pervaded by the Ṛg. The Yajur then established its own tenfold meanings: sattva among the qualities; Viṣṇu as the foremost among forms and in actions; preservation in the worlds; the mid-region; knowledge among the three principles; establishment in the paths of kalā; the left among the five Brahmas; the middle among the parts of the liṅga; and the yoni among the three causes; and the natural sovereignty as it is. Thus, the universe is composed of Yajur. Next, the Sāman revealed its tenfold meanings: among the qualities, tamas; Rudra as the foremost among forms and actions; dissolution in the three worlds; the supreme Śiva among the principles; in the forms of knowledge and art; in the five Brahmas; in the upper portions of the liṅga above the pedestal; the seed within the three causes; and the principle of Puruṣa and sovereignty. Thus, by Sāman, the universe is pervaded. Atharvan then declares the original transcendence of qualities for the Self. Thereafter, Maheśvara is directly present, and Sadāśiva too, in forms and in actions—even though Śiva, the supreme Self, is beyond action. By Him, beings are granted existence, and through Him, creatures are liberated. In the worlds where speech and mind turn back, above that is the Unmanā world, beyond the lunar world, beyond the mundane, where Soma is offered in sacrifice, and where the Lord eternally resides. Above the Unmanā world, one who attains does not return. There is both peace and that which is beyond peace, and the all-pervading power, even among the arts. That Puruṣa, that Īśāna, Brahmā among the five Brahmas, and the very summit of the liṅga, in the supreme portions of sound—there, the pure, partless Śiva is invoked and worshipped, from the bindu, from the sound, from the power, and beyond. Beyond even that principle is the supreme reality, which is not a principle in the highest sense, transcending the three causes, and is the source of the agitation of Māyā. Beyond the infinite pure knowledge, beyond Maheśvara, beyond all the lords of knowledge, and beyond Sadāśiva as well, that supreme truth abides.