A certain light of unconditioned, resplendent brilliance suddenly appeared. This radiant presence was surrounded on all sides by gods and hosts of divine sages, all worshipping it with devotion and reverence. When Pārvatī beheld this great and wondrous light, her heart was filled with awe. The daughter of the mountain, her mind overflowing with devotion, began to praise the Lord of Aruṇādri. She offered salutations to him who wields the mighty bow of Meru and dwells upon the sacred heights of Mount Kailāsa. She honored him, the one revered by Varuṇa and all the gods, whose radiance shines with the brilliance of the rising sun. “Victory to you,” she proclaimed, “whose crest is adorned with the crescent moon, the ornament cherished by Jahnu’s daughter. Victory to you, whose union with the mountain’s daughter brings forth the glory of Kāma. Victory to you, whose blissful dance is joined with the twilight hour. Victory to you, father of Heramba; victory to you, who lovingly cherishes Ṣaṇmukha.” Having showered him with these repeated praises, Pārvatī fixed her gaze upon that dazzling radiance. Assuming her own exceedingly beautiful form, she became deeply absorbed in contemplation. Out of surpassing pride, she renounced all her splendor and dedicated herself to severe austerities. At that time, Indra—accompanied by Puloma’s daughter—and the other guardians of the directions, along with hosts of Gandharvas, Apsarases, Vasus, and other gods, assembled. The eleven great Rudras and the twelve Ādityas were present, as were Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, serpents, spirits, and all the attendants of Śiva. By the thousands they surrounded Maheśāna, approaching him in awe. All were struck with intense wonder, as if witnessing the terror of the world’s end. Pārvatī, having suffered the pain of separation for many nights, now abandoned that sorrow. She fixed her loving gaze upon Śiva’s toes, her affection shining through her smiling countenance and graceful throat, and spoke with gentle devotion. She said, “Because all should be worshipped, I too have joined my hands in reverence.” Śiva replied with compassion, “O Lady of the Gods, this bewilderment of yours is eternal and innate. Where are austerities and meditations, meant for those of harsh disposition? I am Nārāyaṇa, you are Lakṣmī; I am Brahmā, you are Sarasvatī. You are Vāruṇī, I am the lord of serpents; you are Rohiṇī, I am the moon. You are Jāhnavī, I am the ocean; you are Meru, I am the earth. You are wisdom, I am the king of kings; you are tranquility, I am the wind. You are knowledge, I am the one to be known; you are speech, I am meaning, O Pārvatī. In creation, preservation, dissolution, and the granting of grace, I am the lord. O goddess, with a body sustained by your own will, you are the essence of consciousness and light. That which has no remedy is now being acted upon by me.” At these words, Gaurī, as if out of modesty, concealed herself within her own form. Like two meanings united by proximity, the two became one. There appeared a wondrous form—the union of Śiva and Śivā—each half perfectly joined with the other. One half of the body was adorned with the crescent moon, the other draped in moonlight. The limbs shone with a single tawny hue, and one breast was visible, signifying their inseparable unity. Śiva spoke gently, “O goddess, let there be no place for anger in you beyond this. Even so, O breast-named one, dwell here beside me. Let all people worship and delight in both enjoyment and liberation. Let her, who grants success in mantras to people, be ever present here. May this presence remove all diseases of men and destroy every misfortune.” Thus, the divine union was revealed, bestowing blessings upon all beings.