Just as a person forgets a dream or a fleeting fantasy upon waking, so too, when one passes from one state of being to another, the sense of self appears new, unconnected to what came before. The world that we perceive—our senses, the objects they grasp, and the mind that experiences them—arises from a single underlying substance. Yet, it is people themselves who create the division between inner and outer, just as they distinguish between the actions of the virtuous and the wicked. O dear one, living beings are continually coming into existence and passing away, but this endless cycle goes unnoticed because of the subtle and imperceptible power of time, which moves swiftly beyond our perception. Consider the flames of a fire, the flow of a stream, or the fruits of a tree: just as these pass through their own stages, so do all living beings move through the various phases of their existence. We call a lamp’s light a “flame,” a moving current “a stream,” and a person “a man,” but such speech is ultimately untrue, as is the belief in enduring life. Do not think that a person is truly born from the seed of his own actions, or that he genuinely dies; this is mere illusion, like the appearance of fire arising and ceasing with the presence of wood. The body, too, passes through nine stages: conception, gestation, birth, childhood, boyhood, youth, maturity, old age, and death. Higher and lower bodies are assumed, fashioned from the substance of imagination and shaped by association with the qualities of nature; sometimes they are taken on, sometimes set aside. The coming into being and passing away of the self are inferred through the relationship of father and son, but one who truly knows the nature of things that arise and perish is not defined by either. Just as a person who understands the seed and fruit of a tree knows its birth and destruction, yet remains distinct from the tree itself, so too is the witness— the true self—distinct from the body. But when a person fails to distinguish the self from material nature, bewildered by their contact, he becomes entangled in worldly existence. Through association with sattva, one attains the realm of the gods; through rajas, one is born among demons and humans; through tamas, one enters the states of spirits and animals. Driven by the force of actions, beings wander among these various states. Just as one watching others dance and sing feels compelled to imitate them, so too, even one who is inactive is drawn to follow the qualities of intellect observed in others. Our perceptions are easily distorted: just as trees seem to move when water flows, or the earth appears to spin when our eyes whirl, so too is our understanding of reality confused. The experience of sense objects, shaped by the mind’s imagination, is as false as the visions in a dream; worldly existence, O descendant of Dasarha, is similarly unreal for the true self. Even when the objects of desire are absent, the cycle of worldly existence does not cease; for one who meditates on sense objects, suffering arises in dreams just as it does in waking life. Therefore, Uddhava, do not indulge in sense pleasures with unreliable senses. See the confusion that comes from identifying with the self, and recognize the illusory error at its root. Whether one is cast out, insulted by the wicked, mocked, envied, beaten, restrained, or deprived of livelihood—spat upon, or even urinated upon by the ignorant, shaken in many ways—one who truly seeks what is good should uplift oneself by one’s own inner strength, even amidst hardship. Hearing this, Śrī Uddhava humbly asked, “How may I understand this, O best of speakers? Please instruct me. This unbearable violation of the self, I find exceedingly difficult, O Soul of the Universe—even the wise struggle, for nature is powerful. Only those devoted to your dharma, peaceful, and sheltered at your feet can endure such trials. “Bṛhaspati, in the teachings of Brahman, and Hari himself, in the state of self-realization, through devotion to cows, teachers, and Brahmins, follow Viṣvaksena. Through praise and song, men throughout the three worlds, here and there, enter the hearts of women through their ears, just as Rāma does among the virtuous. And through food and offerings, favor is won among the wives of those who perform sacrifices.” At this point, the cowherd boys approached, saying, “O Rāma, mighty-armed one! O Kṛṣṇa, destroyer of the wicked! Hunger afflicts us; please relieve us of it.” Śrī Śuka continued: Thus addressed by the cowherds, the Lord, son of Devakī, kindly spoke for the sake of his devotee, the wife of a Brahmin. He said, “Go to the sacrificial altar where the Brahmins, learned in Brahman, are performing the Angirasa sacrifice, desiring heaven. Go, cowherds, and ask for cooked rice in our names—mine, the noble one’s, and Rāma’s.” Following the Lord’s instruction, the cowherds went and, bowing low with folded hands, addressed the Brahmins: “O lords of the earth, hear us! We come as messengers of Kṛṣṇa, sent by Rāma. Know that we are cowherds. May good fortune be yours. O best knowers of dharma, Rāma and Achyuta, tending the cows not far from here, are hungry and seek food from you. If you have faith, please give them the cooked rice they desire. Except during the consecration for the animal sacrifice or the Sautramani rite, even for one who is consecrated, food is not spoiled by eating it.” But though the Brahmins heard this request on behalf of the Lord, they did not listen. Absorbed in their own petty desires, preoccupied with endless rituals, childish, and proud of their age and learning, they ignored the plea. The place, the time, the materials, the mantras, the procedures, the priests, the fires, the deities, the sacrificer, the ritual, and dharma itself—all these are composed of Him. Yet, lacking discernment and seeing themselves as mere mortals, they did not recognize the Supreme Brahman, the Lord, Adhokshaja Himself, mistaking Him for an ordinary human. They neither said, “Give it to the Yadus,” nor did they refuse outright. Disappointed, the cowherds returned and reported to Kṛṣṇa and Rāma all that had happened. Upon hearing this, the Lord, Master of the universe, laughed gently and spoke to the cowherds, indicating another course of action. “Go and inform the wives, for Sankarshana and I have come. They, affectionate and devoted to me in thought, will gladly give you food.” So the cowherds went to the house of the Brahmins’ wives. Seeing them seated and adorned, the boys bowed low and respectfully spoke: “Salutations to you, O noble wives of the Brahmins. Please hear our words. Not far from here, we, sent by Kṛṣṇa, are tending the cows. He, together with the cowherds and Rāma, has come a long way. Please give food to him, who is hungry and accompanied by his companions.