O King, you asked why, after dwelling in the celestial Nandana grove for a hundred thousand years and possessing the power to assume any form, I left heaven and came to earth. Listen well, for the answer reveals the nature of merit and destiny. Just as, in this world, when a man loses his wealth, he is abandoned by his friends, relatives, and even his own kin, so too in heaven: when one’s store of merit is exhausted, the hosts of gods and their lord turn away, leaving the soul alone. You wonder, how does one’s merit become depleted there? Who attains which realm, and by what distinctions? Your confusion is natural, and since you consider me wise, I shall explain. All those who fall from heaven to this earthly hell suffer greatly. They wander, tormented, seeking scraps of food from crows, jackals, and dogs. When their merit is spent, they take on many forms and are tossed about, far from joy. Therefore, O King, one must avoid wicked and blameworthy deeds in this world, for these lead to such suffering. I have told you this for your welfare; if you wish to know more, ask, and I will speak. You ask, how is it that birds, vultures, crows, and insects attack these souls? How does this come to pass, and what is their state? Indeed, there is no other hell on earth like this. After death, as the effects of karma unfold, these souls wander visibly upon the earth, trapped in this hellish existence for countless years, unable to escape. Sixty thousand souls fall through the sky, and for eighty years they wander, pierced by fearsome earthly demons with sharp fangs as they descend. You ask by what means these demons torment them, and how they eventually become embodied as embryos. The answer is subtle: blood, semen, and substances mixed with flowers and fruits—these, created by a man, pursue the soul and enter a woman's womb, thus forming an embryo. The soul may also enter trees, herbs, water, wind, earth, the sky, or the bodies of four-footed or two-footed creatures. In this way, the soul becomes embodied again. You wonder, does the soul assume a different body in the womb, or does it enter with its own? How does one attain a human birth? The body attains its stature as the wind raises the embryo in the womb. At death, the seed, accompanied by flower and fruit, departs, and having authority over the subtle elements, gradually develops the new embryo. When the soul is born, having just taken on a body, it regains consciousness. With its ears, it perceives sound; with its eyes, it sees form. Through the nose, it smells fragrance; with the tongue, it tastes flavor; with the skin, it feels touch; and with the mind, it perceives thoughts. Thus, the great soul, the embodied being, is endowed with eight faculties. But what happens when the body perishes—when it is burned, buried, or cast away? How does the self perceive itself then? Having abandoned life, like one asleep, and leaving behind the fruits of good or evil deeds, the soul follows the path of the wind, leaves the body, and takes another womb, O lion among kings. Those who have performed good deeds attain a virtuous birth; those who have done evil deeds are born in evil wombs. The wicked become insects and moths—this is the fate I wish not to elaborate further, O great one. Creatures with four legs, two legs, and six legs are thus born, each according to their deeds. All this I have explained to you; what more do you wish to ask, O lion among kings? You ask, by what actions does a mortal attain the highest worlds—by austerity or by knowledge? The wise always declare this path: he who, considering himself learned, studies but uses his knowledge to destroy the reputation of others, finds his worlds perishable, and Brahman does not grant him its fruit. There are four acts, dangerous and fearsome, which, if performed with pride, bring only fear: pride in the fire-offering, pride in silence, pride in study, and pride in sacrifice. One should neither rejoice in being honored nor feel distressed by dishonor, for the good honor the good, and the wicked cannot reach the mind of the virtuous. Thoughts such as “I will give,” “I will sacrifice,” “This is mine,” “This is my vow”—these are all causes of fear and should be completely avoided. The wise, realizing the ancient refuge and restraining their minds on the path of thought, attain supreme blessedness by union with that truth. In this life and after death, they reach the highest peace. Now you ask, how do the different stages of life practice righteousness? How does the wandering householder act? How does the mendicant? How does the teacher perform his duties? And what of the forest-dweller, established on the right path? The brahmacārin, the student, succeeds who rises early, serves the teacher, lies down last, is gentle, self-controlled, steadfast, vigilant, and devoted to self-study. The householder, having obtained wealth by righteous means, should perform sacrifices, give generously, feed guests, and never take what is not given; this is the ancient teaching. The forest-dwelling sage lives by his own strength, abstains from wrongdoing, gives to others, never harms, disciplines his food and conduct, and attains the highest perfection. The mendicant does not live by crafts, is ever virtuous, has mastered his senses, is detached, sleeps without a home, is light and of little movement, and wanders through many lands. The wise, seeking the night by which worlds are conquered and desires overcome, strive for such self-mastery, dwelling in the forest. The forest-dweller regards ten ancestors before him, ten descendants after, and himself as the twenty-first; performing good deeds, he relinquishes his bodily elements in the forest and is freed. You wish to know how many sages there are, and how many forms of silence exist. For the forest-dweller, if the village lies behind him, or for the villager, if the forest lies behind him, such a sage is lord among men. The sage who dwells in the forest should not use anything belonging to the village; thus, the village lies behind him. The sage is without fire, without a fixed abode, and wanders without family ties; as long as he has only a loincloth, he should desire a robe. As long as the intention to sustain life remains, so long should he desire food; thus, while dwelling in the village, the forest lies behind him. Thus, O King, I have spoken to you of the journey of the soul, the fruits of karma, the stages of life, and the path to blessedness. If you wish to hear more, ask, and I shall answer.