I shall recount these matters as best I can, though the fullness of their depth is beyond measure. In the beginning, at the dawn of the first age of the gods, the Great Lord existed alone, undifferentiated and beyond all distinction. From that primordial oneness, he brought forth the universe, ever intent on creation and protection. From his right side, Tryambaka—the Three-Eyed Lord—created Parameṣṭhin, who is Brahmā, the Creator. To Brahmā, he imparted the restless energy of rajas, and to Viṣṇu, he granted the tranquil quality of sattva. Thus, he is known as the Lord of all worlds, for he is the source of both creation and the order that sustains it. Brahmā, the Creator, set Daksha in motion for further creation, bringing him forth from his right thumb. The Lotus-Seated One, Brahmā himself, brought forth the Śūdras from his feet. In this way, the Maruts, serpents, vultures, Gandharvas, and even the rivers emerged into being. Each of these beings assumed their own forms and natures, becoming performers of countless diverse actions. From the sages Pulastya and Pulaha were born the Yakshas and Rakshasas, while from Bhṛgu came Agni, the fire god, and also Cyavana and other sages, whose descendants fill the world. Thus did Brahmā populate the universe with his own offspring. Acyuta, the infallible one, took as his wife Bhṛgu’s daughter, the Lotus-Dweller. Through the acts of creation and preservation, both the Lotus-Born Brahmā and the Lotus-Naveled Viṣṇu attained their own realms of sovereignty. Yet, even between Virancha (Brahmā) and Utaya (another aspect of creation), a dispute arose, born of delusion. The excess of rajas within them manifested outwardly, like a blue hue suddenly appearing. How could the grandfather of worlds, Brahmā, become so bewildered? It was from you alone, O Lord, that the demons Madhuka and Kaitabha arose—demons whom you yourself destroyed. Again and again, the Creator brings you forth in many forms. Once, when I was submerged in the great ocean, exhausted and enveloped by my own fatigue, a vast ocean of my own making, a serpent emerged and flowed forth. Tell me, how does the quality of sattva arise in you, who are shrouded in darkness? Janārdana, you slept in the waters, fearful of the demons. From my four mouths, the Vedas themselves have arisen. It is by me that this entire universe, both moving and unmoving, is created. Therefore, O Vaikuṇṭha, tell me whom I should appoint for this task. Nandikeśvara continued: Thus, in his anger and agitation, the Creator spoke with pride. But understand, Brahmā, that you yourself are born from my navel lotus. Once, having cast off the deep sleep of yoga, I slew Madhu and Kaitabha. To destroy the demons led by Somaka, I act entirely by my own will. Those whose vision is clouded by passion see nothing clearly. Is not my inseparable power the very goddess who dwells in the lotus? All these beings, this very time, and even my own self—I am all of these. The Ādityas, Vasus, Rudras, guardians of the directions, and Manus—I am all of them. By my own command, the power of creation is established. Through her, even a fleeting moment can stretch into an epoch. Sunrise and sunset may occur, but not then for the moon and sun as you know them. The Maruts did not blow, nor did the fires blaze. All the oceans surged, and the mountains themselves trembled. Thus, the divine play of creation, preservation, and dissolution unfolds, governed by the will and power of the Lord, who is all and beyond all.