Without him, there would be no light from the moon, the sun, or even from fire itself. Such is his all-pervading presence. In that sacred gathering, voices rose with reverence and yearning: “O god! O sage! O perfected one! O seer! O night-wanderer! Where have you gone, dear one? Whom have you found, O Lord? Do you have any provisions with you, or anything at all in any direction? Do you reside anywhere? How do you obtain water, or peace of mind?” In this manner, filled with kindness and concern, they spoke to one another. Among them were beings dwelling deep within the earth’s hidden cavities, where the sun and moon and all the great planets could not reach. For these subterranean creatures, there was no sunlight, no moonlight, nor the radiance of any celestial body. They wondered aloud, “By what light do they see the level and uneven places? Who is it that moves equally among all, granting hundreds of desires of the mind?” They reflected on the many forms of comfort and companionship: a level bed, water in thirst, a boat in danger, a good attendant in illness, a friend in a foreign land, shade in the heat, smokeless fire in the cold—each one a giver of countless desires, always present for all. As they spoke thus, O Vyasa, they heard sweet and gentle words. Yet, they did not know where he was situated, nor who was speaking to them—it was Keshava, the Lord himself. Then came the teaching: “One gift, always proper, is remembered as equal to a wish-fulfilling gem. That should be given by all; listen to this truth carefully.” It was by the one who produced the excellent lamp, by which darkness was dispelled, that unwavering, pure, pleasing, and radiant light—stable and brilliant as the sun—brought peace to Gokarna. Even the mighty serpents, led by Shesha, did not rise up, not even in groups. Whether on mountains, in oceans, in forests, or in groves, all beings enjoyed the five divine roots mixed with milk, food prepared from rice nourished by the moon, and betel nut prepared in seven delightful ways. On splendid beds and in enchanting forest retreats, they all delighted together, embracing one another with joy. They were freed from the fear of the sun’s burning heat and the chill of the moon’s rays, for the sun brings scorching and the moon brings coolness. So, in gratitude and devotion, they fashioned golden lamps and offered them again to the twice-born. There, they lived happily, enjoying pleasures eight times greater than those of heaven itself. This secret, O Vyasa, I have revealed to you out of compassion. For without the fire of a lamp, darkness cannot be burned away. Then, all those beings, delighted, questioned the mighty Damodara once more: “Sunk in dreadful darkness, we do not know fire.” At that time, the gods devoted to Shiva kindled the sacred lamp. When the lamp was given, the delighted Maheshvara revealed himself to the gods, and the gods, with Indra at their head, attained happiness in heaven. Even the Daityas, knowing the fruit of giving lamps, were filled with wonder. Having worshipped Mahadeva with pure flowers and water, all remained in their proper places, and the giving of lamps brought radiance and beauty everywhere. But then, O Vyasa, the ghosts became without sustenance and without shelter, for the power of the lamp’s offering had transformed the world.