Brahmā spoke, his voice tinged with humility, and revealed, “It was I who, together with Viṣṇu, gave rise to a rivalry between us. In our pride, both of us had forgotten the true glory of Śiva. Let us set aside that shameful conversation for now, for I still…” He paused, gathering his thoughts, then continued, “For it is said that even seven steps taken together forge a bond of friendship; may you, therefore, regard me as a friend. Ignoring those whose minds are closed to praise, you should bestow your favor upon me. “Once, assuming the forms of a swan and a boar, Viṣṇu and I sought to prove our superiority over one another, striving to dispel the notion of our equality. Yet, I have never known such a desperate longing to reach the end of that quest. I am utterly exhausted, as if parted from my very life. So, I implore you, as a friend, to grant this request for my sake. I join my hands in supplication; this must be done by you. “Even if one does not perceive it, one has already attained equality with me. Now, the responsibility to avoid further conflict rests with you alone. Speak this single statement before Viṣṇu, the wielder of the discus: ‘I have seen the highest point; here I stand as witness.’ In this, you will be greatly honored, just as a father is honored by his grandfather. Having said this, I ask that you render me this great assistance.” With these words, Brahmā turned to Viṣṇu, who dwelled in radiance at the very summit, and spoke the rest. Yet, discerning the truth, Viṣṇu realized that he had not actually seen the summit. To show favor to me in my ignorance, and to destroy the pride born of our fate, the inability to perceive the root of the pillar checked the arrogance of my own brilliance. Now, Maheshvara is praised, free from any trace of pride. Still, because pride had not yet been vanquished, a false witness was obtained. Today, he alone is able to remove all suffering. Thus it is, for one who has committed an offense, who is ungrateful, who betrays the teacher. Brahmā then offered heartfelt praise: “Victory to you, whose form is like the sun! Victory to you, whose hand grants the nectar of immortality! Victory to you, whose form is like the universal fire! Victory to you, whose essence is borne by the wind! Protect me, O one who transcends the three qualities; protect me, embodiment of time. You are the creator of all worlds, the protector of all embodied beings. You are subtler than the subtlest, greater than the greatest. The Vedas are your very breath; the universe is the splendor of your artistry. The immortals, the Dānavas, the Daityas, the Siddhas, the Vidyādharas, and humans—all are sustained by you. You are heaven, you are liberation; you are Om, you are the sacrifice. You are the beginning, the middle, and the end of all that stands and all that moves. You are the supreme Lord, the transcendent teacher, the universal benefactor, the auspicious one. Seeing you, one who seeks refuge attains the highest good. Hearing this, surely even the Veda itself must show compassion everywhere.” Having thus bowed to the radiant pillar, the Supreme Lord, Brahmā, though restrained, persisted in his devotion with a gentle smile. He continued, “O destroyer of Time, destroyer of sacrifices, blue-throated one, moon-crested one—victory to you, Śambhu, Śiva, Īśāna, Śarva, Three-eyed one, matted-haired one! Victory to you, Lord of victory, wielder of the broken axe, trident-bearer, Lord of all beings, Hara!