In the depths of the forest, his anguished cries echoed again and again, his voice unleashed in full force. With swift determination, he bent his bow and released upon his target the arrow named Suffering, piercing it anew. The torment he unleashed spread through the entire world, his roaring relentless, driving all beings away in fear and awe. Agitated and restless, afflicted by the arrows of desire, he wandered ceaselessly, his presence expanding in all directions. In this state, he addressed his brother, saying, “Whatever words you speak today, carry them out; your prowess knows no bounds.” With humility, he offered himself: “Command me, O Shambhu of infinite strength, for I am your devoted servant, O Lord.” Yet, he confessed his turmoil: “Struck by wild passion’s arrows, I find no steadiness, no pleasure, no happiness. No other man could endure this suffering but you; therefore, please accept it.” Pleased by this devotion, the Trident-bearing Lord was quickly satisfied and spoke with delight. “As a boon for your worship, I grant you something that will bring laughter to the world. Whether old man, child, youth, or woman, all will be seized by that madness. Before you, those given to laughter and speech will become devoted; even those united with yoga will belong to you. By my grace, you shall become the most worshipped among men, the bestower of boons.” He then described a most sacred land to the north of Kālanjara, lying to the south of the Himalaya. When the seeker departed for that holy place, the three-eyed Lord too journeyed to Mount Vindhya. There, seeing his devotee poised to act, Hara spoke out. He entered a grove where sages and their wives were gathered, and the Blessed Lord addressed them, saying, “Grant me alms.” At that time, the sage Nārada wandered through all the hermitages. Everywhere, those of weak spirit became agitated, their minds fixed on honoring their husbands and such thoughts. In that place, those tormented by desire, their senses bewildered by passion, gravitated toward him, following him as female elephants follow a maddened tusker. But anger arose among the others, and they cried out, “May his emblem fall to the ground!” At that moment, the three-pronged, blue-red Lord vanished from sight. Swiftly, he entered the netherworld and pierced the cosmic egg from above. All the realms of Pātāla were filled with beings, moving and unmoving alike. He journeyed on to see Mādhava at the ocean called Kṣīroda and asked, “O Lord of the worlds, why are the worlds so disturbed, O Mighty One?” When the emblem fell, the earth trembled under its weight. The gods repeatedly urged, “Let us go there, O Lord of gods.” Together, they arrived at the place where Bhava’s liṅga was. Filled with wonder, the Lord entered Pātāla, but, O Brahman, he could not find its end and returned, astonished. The wielder of the discus, too, went forth but could not discover the end, O great sage. With hands joined in reverence, they began to praise the god: “O bearer of the clouds, O poet, O Śarva, O three-eyed one, O Śaṅkara, O destroyer of Dakṣa’s sacrifice, O embodiment of time, I bow to you. You are the infinite, the blessed Lord, the all-pervading one; I bow to you.” Then, the Lord, manifest in his true form, spoke these words, his voice the best among speakers.