With his mind firmly set, Aruṇa, the mighty Daitya, approached Brahmā and asked for the boon he had long cherished: “Let there not be death for me.” Hearing this earnest request, Brahmā, the grandsire of all, addressed Aruṇa with respect and gentle wisdom. “Even I, along with Viṣṇu, Maheśa, and the other gods, have been swallowed by death, O best of Dānavas. How then can others hope to escape it? Therefore, ask for a boon that is suitable, one within my power to grant. The wise do not insist upon the impossible.” Aruṇa listened and, undeterred, clarified his wish: “Then, let my death not come in battle, nor by weapons or missiles, nor at the hands of men or women. Nor let it come from beings with two feet or four, nor those who possess both forms. O Lord, grant me such a boon regarding death. And grant me such great strength that I may conquer the gods.” Hearing these words, Brahmā replied, “So be it.” Having granted the boon, the lotus-born Brahmā swiftly returned to his own abode. Aruṇa, now filled with pride and confidence, summoned the Daityas who dwelt in the netherworld. At his call, all the Daityas gathered and honored him as their lord. Determined to seize the heavens, Aruṇa sent a messenger to Amaravati, the city of Indra, to declare war. When the king of the gods heard the messenger’s words, he trembled with fear. In haste, Indra and the other gods went to Brahmā’s abode, and with Brahmā and Viṣṇu leading them, they proceeded together to the dwelling of Śaṅkara. There, they deliberated deeply on how to destroy those who had become enemies of the gods. But even as they discussed, the place was suddenly surrounded by the armies of the Daityas. Aruṇa, king of the demons, advanced quickly to the realm of the gods. With might and cunning, he seized the domains of the Sun, the Moon, Yama, and Agni. By the power of his austerities and his ability to assume various forms, Aruṇa took control of all the celestial regions. Displaced from their abodes, all the gods fled to the region of Kailāsa. There, each deity recounted his own suffering to Śaṅkara, and once again, great deliberation arose about what should be done. Brahmā explained the cause of their helplessness: “Neither by war, nor by weapons or missiles, nor by men, nor by women, nor by bipeds, nor by quadrupeds, nor by any being of both forms can death come to him.” Hearing this, the gods were filled with anxiety, unable to see a way forward. At that very moment, a bodiless voice resounded in the air: “Worship the Lady of the Worlds; she will accomplish your task. If the demon king, absorbed in the recitation of the Gāyatrī, should abandon her, then he will become subject to death.” The divine voice rang out, bringing hope and joy to the gods. Hearing this celestial guidance, the gods consulted together. Summoning Bṛhaspati, the king of the gods said, “O teacher, go to the demon for the sake of the gods’ purpose. Do whatever is necessary so that he abandons the Gāyatrī. We will serve the Supreme Lady through meditation and yoga; if she is pleased, the Blessed Goddess will grant us assistance.” Thus instructed, Bṛhaspati set out for his task, and the gods themselves journeyed to the Lady of Jambūnāda, seeking her protection from the terror of the demon. There, with firm resolve, they undertook intense austerities, reciting the seed-mantra of Māyā and worshipping the Goddess with devotion. Meanwhile, Bṛhaspati approached the demon Aruṇa. Seeing the eminent sage arrive, Aruṇa questioned him, “O sage, why have you come here? For what reason and what purpose? Speak. I hold no partiality for your side; in fact, I am your enemy.” Bṛhaspati replied calmly, “The very Goddess whom we serve is the one you worship constantly. Therefore, tell me, how could you not be partial to our side?” Hearing these words, Aruṇa was bewildered by the divine illusion. Out of pride, the mighty Daitya abandoned the supreme mantra—the Gāyatrī—and in forsaking her, lost his brilliance. Having accomplished his mission, Bṛhaspati departed and recounted the entire event to Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt. The gods, now satisfied, worshipped the Supreme Goddess with renewed devotion. After much time had passed, the Mother of the Universe, bestower of auspiciousness upon the world, appeared before them—radiant as millions of suns, beautiful as countless Cupids. The Goddess was adorned with wondrous ointments, splendid garments, marvelous garlands, and shining ornaments. In her hand she held a cluster of bees. She radiated compassion and tranquility, dispelling fear and granting boons. Garlands of flowers, interwoven with various bees, adorned her, and she was surrounded by countless, diverse bees, all singing the sacred syllable “hrīṃ”. Ambikā was encircled on all sides by millions upon millions, adorned in all forms of beauty, praised by all the Vedas. She was the essence of all, pervading all, the embodiment of all auspiciousness; omniscient, mother of all, all-encompassing, sovereign of all. Seeing her, the gods led by Brahmā, their hearts overflowing, praised Śiva with joyful voices: “Salutations to you, O Goddess, O great wisdom, creator, sustainer, and destroyer; salutations to you, lotus-eyed, foundation of all. Salutations to you, who are the essence of the cosmic intellect, the Virāṭ, and the Sūtra; salutations to you, of manifest form, abiding in the highest. O Durgā, beyond creation and its beginning, unimpeded in restraining the wicked; accessible through boundless love, O radiant Goddess, salutations to you.