One night, Lord Shiva appeared in her dream — not as the ash-smeared ascetic, but as a wise old grandfather from her own village. He held a palm-leaf manuscript and spoke in pure, sweet Odia: "Dei, the ocean of my tales is not locked in Sanskrit alone. It flows in every river, every tongue, every heart that seeks me. Look under the old banyan tree at dawn."

When she awoke, she rushed to the banyan tree. There, wrapped in a red cloth, was a palm-leaf manuscript written in . It was the Shiva Purana — but not the Sanskrit one. It was the Sauptika (sleeping) version , the one whispered by Lord Shiva to his son Kartikeya, later translated into the language of the common people by medieval Odia poets.

Parvati Dei could not read, so she took it to the village schoolmaster. He opened it and began to read aloud: "Jaya Jagadishwara, Hara, Mahadeva… In the beginning, there was only the dark void of the Great Dissolution. Neither moon nor sun, neither earth nor sky. Then, from the silence, arose a gentle sound: OM. And from that OM, appeared the Jyotirlinga — the pillar of infinite light. That light was Shiva, the Auspicious One." As he read the story of , of Parvati’s penance , of the churning of the ocean and Shiva drinking the poison (Halahala), tears flowed from Parvati Dei’s eyes. She finally understood why the Bilva leaf was sacred, why the moon sat on Shiva’s head, and why the Ganges flowed from his matted hair.

She would often whisper to the stone Nandi, "Mahadeva, I touch your feet every day, but I do not know your great stories. How can I love what I do not know?"