Nara and Nārāyaṇa

As Mārkaṇḍeya went on with his austerity, the Lord Hari came to him to show him grace, in the form of the two sages Nara and Nārāyaṇa. One was white and one was dark. Their eyes were like fresh lotuses, they had four arms, and they wore deerskin and bark and the sacred thread, and carried water pots and staffs of straight bamboo, strings of lotus seeds and the Veda. They were tall, and shone like lightning, austerity in bodily form, honoured by the greatest of the gods.

When Mārkaṇḍeya saw them, he fell to the ground before them like a staff. His mind and senses were stilled by joy, the hair stood up on his body, his eyes filled with tears, and he could hardly bear to look at them. He rose with folded hands, and in his longing almost embraced them, and said, Homage, homage, his voice choking. He gave them a seat and washed their feet, and worshipped them with water, sandal paste, incense and garlands. When they were seated, he bowed at their feet again and praised them at length: it is only by coming to your feet, he said, that anyone is safe from fear; even Brahmā fears your time. Homage to Nārāyaṇa, and to Nara, the best of men, the sage.

Nārāyaṇa was pleased with him. You are the best of the brahmin sages, he said. You are perfect in your devotion to me, which never fails, and in your austerity, your recitation and your restraint. We are pleased with the great vow you have kept. Ask what boon you wish.

Victory to you, lord of the gods, said Mārkaṇḍeya, you who take away the distress of all who come to you. This is boon enough for us, that you have let yourself be seen. Brahmā and the others saw your lotus feet only when their minds had ripened in yoga, and here you are before my eyes. Still, lotus-eyed one, I wish to see your māyā, by which the world and its guardians take what is real to be many things.

The Lord smiled and said, So be it, and went away to his hermitage at Badarī.