With reverence, I bow to Nārāyaṇa, the Lord who is revealed through the three Vedas. He manifests in triple, ninefold, and singular forms, abiding in threefold purity, embodying the threefold fire, and being the ultimate goal of the three principles. He is the Lord of three ages, the three-eyed, immeasurable One. In the cycle of ages, Nārāyaṇa appears differently: in the Kṛta age, He is white; in Tretā, His body is red; in Dvāpara, He is pure and ancient; and in Kali, His form becomes dark. In each age, I bow to Hari. It is He who created the Brāhmaṇas from His mouth, the Kṣatriyas from His arms, the Vaiśyas from His thighs, and the Śūdras from His feet. To that all-formed, ancient One, I offer my salutations. I bow to Nārāyaṇa, the Supreme beyond all, the one who has transcended everything, the object of all knowledge, the Lord of warriors, who became Kṛṣṇa for the sake of action, holding mace and shield, with an uplifted hand, immeasurable. Thus praised, the best of gods was pleased and spoke to me, His voice resounding like thunderclouds: “Choose a boon.” Again and again, I wished for dissolution into His very being. Hearing my words, the eternal Lord of gods said, “O Brāhmaṇa, enter into this inexhaustible nature.” After a thousand ages of Brahma, I would emerge from that state; my name and purpose would be given accordingly. Because I always offered water—nāra—to the ancestors, I would be known as Nārada. Having spoken thus, the god departed and vanished at once. Through austerity, I abandoned my body in due time. I entered dissolution within Brahma’s body, O King, and was born again, along with ten sons, at the beginning of the day. The day of Brahma, who is born from the unmanifest, marks the period of creation and dissolution for all beings, gods and others—there is no doubt. By divine law, this is the creation of the entire universe; this is my natural birth, O King, about which you have asked. Therefore, by meditating on Nārāyaṇa, I have attained the supreme state. So you too, best of kings, should devote yourself to Viṣṇu. The Earth then asked: “That Nārāyaṇa, the supreme and eternal soul—O Lord, tell me truly, should one worship Him with all one’s being, or not?” Śrī Varāha replied: “Matsya, Kūrma, Varāha, Narasiṃha, Vāmana, Rāma, Rāma, Kṛṣṇa, Buddha, and Kalki—these are His ten forms. These forms, O bearer of beings, are described as steps for those who desire to see Him, shining like a staircase. His supreme form is not seen by the gods; they gain strength by filling themselves with forms like ours. Brahmā, by the form of the Lord and likewise by rajas and tamas, establishes and stirs the universe in its existence. You alone, O mountain-holder, are the Lord’s first form; the second is water, and the third is said to be fire. The fourth is air, and the fifth is space; these are His forms. The knower of the field is my understanding. Thus, three forms and these eight forms are His. All this world is pervaded by Nārāyaṇa; this has been told to you, O goddess—what else do you wish to hear?” The Earth asked: “When thus addressed by Nārada, what did King Priyavrata do? Tell me, O Supreme Lord, by your grace.” Śrī Varāha answered: “Dividing you into seven parts and giving them to his sons, Priyavrata, amazed by Nārada’s words, performed austerities. Reciting the supreme Nārāyaṇa-manifested Brahman, Svayambhuva, with a satisfied mind, attained the highest liberation. Listen, O beautiful one, to another account of what transpired with Parameṣṭhin, when a king once strove for his worship in ancient times. There was a king named Aśvaśirā, supremely righteous, who performed the Aśvamedha sacrifice, giving abundant gifts. Having bathed at the conclusion of the sacrifice, surrounded by Brahmins, the royal sage remained seated. Then the eminent yogi Kapila, radiant, and Jaigīṣavya, king of yogis, arrived. Rising swiftly, the king, foremost among rulers, performed the rites of welcome with utmost joy. Seeing them honored and seated, the mighty king questioned those two, sharp-minded and learned in yoga, who had come of their own will. ‘O illustrious sages, I ask you, the best among men: How should one worship Hari, the supreme Nārāyaṇa?’ The sages replied: ‘O king, whom you call Nārāyaṇa, the guru, we two are Nārāyaṇas, come before you in person.’ Aśvaśirā said: ‘You two are accomplished Brahmins, purified by austerity and freed from sin; how can you claim to be Nārāyaṇas? This statement is perplexing. Janārdana, bearing the conch, discus, and mace, clad in yellow garments, seated upon Garuḍa, is the great god—who on earth is equal to him?’ Hearing the king’s words, the two Brahmins, steadfast in their vows, laughed and said, ‘Behold Viṣṇu, O king.’ Having spoken thus, Kapila himself became Viṣṇu, and Jaigīṣavya instantly became Garuḍa. At that very moment, cries of astonishment arose throughout the royal assembly, seeing the eternal god Nārāyaṇa seated upon Garuḍa. The illustrious king, joining his palms in reverence, said, ‘Calm yourselves, O sages; this is not Viṣṇu as he is known. From whose navel-lotus Brahmā was born, and from Brahmā, Rudra; that Viṣṇu is the supreme lord.’ Hearing the king’s words, those two eminent sages then performed the highest yoga, a special yogic illusion. Kapila became Padmanābha, Jaigīṣavya became Prajāpati; seated upon the lotus, he shone forth, and a small child appeared on his lap.