In the sacred tradition, the proper offering to one’s ancestors, the śrāddha, must be performed with faith in a purified place. On the earth, care must be taken to prevent demons from scattering the sesame seeds set aside for the ritual. The food used must be pure—never contaminated by nails, hair, insects, or anything impure, never mixed with leftovers or stale. Only food offered with devotion, naming the lineage of the ancestors, nourishes them in the subtle realms. It is remembered that, in ancient times, the ancestors sang a verse in the grove of Kalāpa to Ikṣvāku, son of Manu, expressing their hope: “May those of virtuous conduct come to Gayā and offer us rice balls with reverence. May one be born in our lineage who will give us the thirteenth offering of rice cooked with milk, honey, and ghee, during the rainy season under the Maghā star. Or may he marry a fair maiden, release a dark bull, or perform the horse sacrifice with proper gifts, as prescribed.” Turning to the lineage of kings, the sage Parāśara recounts that Yadu, the eldest son of Yayāti, had a son named Jayadhvaja, whose son was Tāla-jaṅgha. Of Yayāti’s fourth son, Anu, three sons were born: Sabhānala, Cakṣu, and Parameṣus. Sabhānala’s son was Kālānala. But let us return to the beginning. Maitreya, the devoted disciple, asked the sage Parāśara about the creation of all beings by Brahmā-Nārāyaṇa at the dawn of the kalpa. Parāśara explained: At the end of the previous kalpa, when the night had passed and Brahmā awoke, he found the world empty. Nārāyaṇa, the supreme and inconceivable Lord, is the very form of Brahmā, the origin and source of all. A verse is recited about Nārāyaṇa: “The god who is the form of Brahmā is the origin and dissolution of the world.” The waters are called ‘nārā’, the offspring of Nara, and their abode was first in Him; thus, He is remembered as Nārāyaṇa. Knowing that the earth lay submerged within the waters, when the world had become a single ocean, the Lord of creatures sought the means to raise it up. As in previous cycles, He assumed various forms—fish, tortoise, and others—and now, He took the form of the mighty Boar. The Supreme Self, steadfast and composed of Veda and sacrifice, entered the waters, praised by perfected beings such as Sanaka, who dwell in Janaloka. The goddess Earth, having come from the lowest netherworld, beheld Him and bowed in devotion, her heart overflowing with reverence. She praised Him, saying: “Salutations to You, lotus-eyed One, bearer of conch, discus, and mace! Please lift me up from here, for I arose from You before. By You I was raised up before, O Janārdana; I am made of You, as are all beings—sky and the rest—arisen from You. Salutations to You, Supreme Self, Self of all beings, unmanifest source of matter, and Time itself. You are the creator, protector, and destroyer; in creation and other acts, You assume the forms of Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Rudra. When all creation was consumed and the world became a single ocean, O Govinda, You alone are contemplated by the wise. No one knows Your highest reality; in Your incarnations, the forms You assume are worshipped by the dwellers of heaven. Those who desire liberation worship You as the Supreme Brahman; without worshipping Vāsudeva, who could ever attain liberation? All that can be grasped by mind, perceived by senses, or determined by intellect is Your form. I am pervaded, supported, created, and sustained by You; thus, I am called Mādhavī. Victory to You, embodiment of all knowledge, both gross and subtle, imperishable and infinite, unmanifest and manifest, O Lord! Victory to You, soul of all, transcendent and immanent, Lord of the universe and sacrifice, sinless one! You are the sacrifice, the vaṣaṭ-call, the syllable Oṃ, and the fires. You are the Vedas and their limbs, the sacrificial person, O Hari; the sun, planets, stars, constellations, and the entire world are You. O Supreme Person, you are with form and formless, visible and invisible. Whatever I have spoken or not spoken, to all of that, to You, I bow—again and again, I bow in reverence.” Thus praised by the Earth, the Lord who upholds her, resplendent and producing a deep, resonant sound like the chanting of Sāma hymns, roared mightily. The great Boar, with eyes like fully blossomed lotuses, lifted the Earth with his tusk, rising from the netherworld, shining like a great blue mountain covered with lotus leaves. As He rose, the wind from His mouth scattered the waters that had gathered, washing the radiant sages such as Sanandana who had taken refuge in Janaloka, purifying them. The waters, churned by the tips of His hooves, resounded with continuous noise; His breaths dispersed them in all directions, and the perfected beings and yogis moved about. The Boar, his belly still wet, holding the Earth and shaking his body composed of the Vedas, was praised by the sages dwelling between his hairs. The yogis among people, their minds filled with joy, along with Sanandana and others, bowed low and extolled the steadfast bearer of the Earth, whose gaze was firmly uplifted. They proclaimed: “O Supreme Lord, Keshava, master of the lords of victory, bearer of mace, conch, sword, and discus! You alone are the cause of creation, destruction, and sustenance; you are the supreme ruler—there is no higher state than your feet.