हिमालय उवाच । योगं च भक्तिसहितं ज्ञानं च श्रुतिसंमतम् । वदस्व परमेशानि त्वमेवाहं यतो भवेः ॥ व्यास उवाच । इति तस्य वचः श्रुत्वा प्रसन्नमुखपङ्कजा । वक्तुमारभताम्बा सा रहस्यं श्रुतिगूहितम् ॥ शृण्वन्तु निर्जराः सर्वे व्याहरन्त्या वचो मम । यस्य श्रवणमात्रेण मद्रूपत्वं प्रपद्यते ॥१॥
himālaya uvāca | yogaṃ ca bhaktisahitaṃ jñānaṃ ca śrutisaṃmatam | vadasva parameśāni tvamevāhaṃ yato bhaveḥ || vyāsa uvāca | iti tasya vacaḥ śrutvā prasannamukhapaṅkajā | vaktumārabhatāmbā sā rahasyaṃ śrutigūhitam || śṛṇvantu nirjarāḥ sarve vyāharantyā vaco mama | yasya śravaṇamātreṇa madrūpatvaṃ prapadyate ||1||
Himalaya said: Speak to me of yoga joined with devotion, and of knowledge agreed upon by the Veda, O supreme sovereign, so that I myself may become you. Vyasa said: Hearing his words, the Mother, her lotus face gracious, began to speak the secret hidden within the shruti. Let all the immortals listen to these words of mine, by the mere hearing of which one attains my own nature.
Modern Reflection
This verse does three jobs at once: it stages Himalaya's question, hands the narration back to Vyasa for one breath, and then lets the Devi speak her very first words of the entire text. Her opening claim is startling in its scale. She does not promise merit, or heaven, or even liberation as a distant reward for practice. She says that the mere act of hearing (shravana-matrena) what follows is enough to confer her own nature. This is the exact logic of a katha in any Indian town today: when a grandmother gathers children for the Ramayana or the Devi Mahatmya at dusk, the tradition does not ask the child to first master Sanskrit grammar or complete a vrata. It trusts that sustained, attentive hearing itself works a change, the way water shapes stone not through force but through unhurried contact over years. The Devi Gita opens by naming that trust as doctrine: shravana is not preparation for transformation, it already is transformation, provided the listener stays present for it.