Thus, the gods, sages, ancestors, and all of humanity gathered together and offered their praises to him. With hearts full of devotion, they pleaded, “Out of your great compassion, grant us a boon as well.” They acknowledged, “Whatever strength, brilliance, and valor we possess—all these powers had been subdued, O Lord, but by your favor, they have returned to us once more.” Moved by their words, he set forth to a place where the very embodiment of rajas and ego resided. There, Brahmā himself, shrouded in darkness, failed to recognize the divine presence that had come before him. Then, before their very eyes, the Soul of the Universe—the Creator, the very Essence of all—manifested. Rudra appeared, radiant and resplendent, his brilliance overwhelming all who beheld him. His radiance shone like the moon in the night or the dawn at sunrise. Brahmā, his hand raised in reverence, spoke with a gentle smile, yet, blinded by the dazzling light, he did not recognize the Supreme God standing before him. In the presence of all the assembled gods, and as they listened intently, Brahmā spoke his words. Before them stood a mass of pure light, like the moon itself, with eyes shining like the moon, the sun, and fire. With effortless ease, he split the banana stalk, as a man might break it with his fingernails. Yet, struck by Rudra’s overwhelming radiance, Brahmā was bewildered and did not bow in recognition. Together with the gods, he gazed upon Rudra’s fierce and blazing form and was seized by great fear. There, in the very center of the planetary sphere, Rudra shone like a second moon. With the sun stationed at its zenith, like Mount Kailāsa rising above all mountains, the gods praised the Lord of gods—the bearer of the skull—with many hymns. They extolled him: “To you, endowed with lordly power and supreme knowledge, bestower of all enjoyments; you are the agent of time’s destruction and thus, you are the Great Time itself. Swiftly you bring happiness to your devotees, and for this reason, you are remembered as Śaṃkara, the beneficent one. Therefore, O god Kapālī, you are praised—be gracious to us.” Then, that blessed one, a treasure-house of compassion, vanished from their sight. The one adorned with a white skull and garlands, standing ever at Rudra’s side—he triumphed, having conquered mighty and radiant Brahmā, the creator. At that moment, Rudra took the sweat that had arisen on his forehead and cast it upon the earth. From that very sweat was born Kuṇḍalī, armed with a bow and great arrows. Brahmā, perceiving the energy of Rudra, spoke to Kuṇḍalī. Hearing Brahmā’s words, Kuṇḍalī raised his bow and stood behind him, ready. When Bhava beheld that fierce and powerful man, he was astonished. Yet he thought to himself, “He is not to be slain by me; he will become the powerful friend of Viṣṇu.” With this thought, the Lord made his way to Viṣṇu’s sacred hermitage. Upon arriving, filled with delight, he engaged in divine play upon the earth. Invisible to all beings, he remained—the soul of the universe, the creator and sovereign of all. Standing upon the earth on a single toe, he performed severe austerities, undisturbed and unwavering. He was the ancient, supreme person, endowed with a stream of merit. Before the assembled gods, he displayed a skull, fierce and blazing with fire. “Who else,” they wondered, “would now be fit to receive alms as a mendicant?” Knowing the thoughts within him, the moon-crested Lord pierced him with his trident. From the wound, clear as molten gold and pure as a tongue of fire, the sacred river Śiprā sprang forth—straight and swift, like a ray of the sun in the sky. For a thousand divine years, she bore the flow from the very arm of Hari.