When a person acts in this world, the results of those actions do not vanish with the body’s end. Rather, as the body is left behind, the subtle self—carrying the imprint of deeds—moves on to enjoy the fruits of those actions in another body elsewhere. Among the learned who know the Vedas, there is much discussion on this: the actions one performs are said to be hidden, their effects not immediately visible. Nārada then explained: whatever actions a person performs, by those very actions he must experience their results in the next life, without interruption, through the subtle body and the mind. It is much like a man leaving behind his sleeping, breathing body—he still enjoys the results of his actions, whether with that body or another. Whatever a person, thinking “I am this,” accepts with his mind, he attains the results of those actions, and this is how rebirth comes about. Just as the existence of the mind is inferred from the activities of the senses, so too are actions from former lives recognized by the movements and tendencies of the mind. Sometimes, with this body, one experiences things never seen, heard, or known before—yet, at some point, that form or experience is perceived, for it exists within oneself. Therefore, O King, the embodied soul attains a form arising from the body. The meaning of what is not directly experienced cannot be grasped by the mind. It is the mind alone that reveals to a person previous forms, those yet to come, and even those that will never manifest—may you be blessed. At times, things never seen or heard appear in the mind; thus, one should infer their origins according to place, time, and action. All objects accessible to mind and senses come and go in recurring cycles, and everyone shares in this experience. But when the mind is fixed solely in sattva—goodness—dwelling near the Lord, then all darkness is dispelled, just as the shadow on the moon vanishes, and everything is illuminated. The sense of “I” and “mine” persists only as long as the arrangement of intellect, mind, senses, and qualities, which is without beginning, continues. During sleep, fainting, or suffering, when the breath is disturbed, the sense of “I am” does not arise—not even in the burning experience of death. In the womb and in childhood, due to immaturity, the subtle body with its eleven faculties is not manifest, like the moon hidden during its new phase. Even when the object is absent, the cycle does not cease; as one contemplates objects, misfortune can arise in dreams, though those dreams are unreal. Thus, the fivefold subtle body, expanded in three and sixteen ways, when joined with consciousness, is called the living being. Through this, the person takes up and abandons bodies, and experiences joy, sorrow, fear, pain, and happiness. Just as a leech on grass and water neither completely departs nor remains, so too does a person not fully abandon identification with the body, even at the time of death. The unseen does not perish like the seen; it exists otherwise, like a dream. What has been, what is, and what will be—all rest in sleep, day and night. When one repeatedly contemplates actions performed by the senses, as long as ignorance persists, bondage arises for the non-self. Therefore, for liberation from this bondage, worship Hari with all your being, seeing the universe as His, from whom creation, maintenance, and dissolution arise. Maitreya continued: The great devotee, Lord Nārada, having shown the path of the swans and bidding farewell to the sons of King Prācīnabarhī, departed for Siddhaloka. King Prācīnabarhī, the royal sage, after instructing his sons in the protection of creation, retired to the hermitage of Kapila to perform austerities. There, with unwavering concentration, he worshipped the lotus feet of Govinda. Freed from all attachment, he attained likeness with the Lord through devotion. O sinless one, this teaching on the transcendental Self was sung by the divine sage; whoever recites or hears it is freed from material bondage. The purifying glory of Mukunda, which sanctifies the world, has flowed from the mouth of the foremost divine sage, embodying the purity of the Self. Whoever hears it attains the supreme state and, freed from all bonds, no longer wanders in this existence. This wondrous transcendental teaching, which I have now received, resolves all doubts regarding the duties of women and men, both in this life and beyond. Śuka then spoke: When the Lord suddenly disappeared, the women of Vraja, unable to see Him, were tormented in their hearts, much like female elephants separated from their leader. Absorbed in memories of His movements, His affection, His smiles, playful glances, charming speech, and delightful pastimes, their minds wholly captivated by the Lord of Lakṣmī, the women began to imitate His actions, each identifying herself with Him. In their walking, smiling, glancing, speaking, and every act, the beloveds of the Beloved, embodying His very form, mimicked Kṛṣṇa’s playful ways, each saying, “I am He,” convinced in her heart. Gathering together, they sang of Him loudly and wandered from forest to forest, like those possessed, searching for Him. They questioned the trees, who, though rooted and apart, contain the Supreme Person within, as if asking the sky itself. “O Aśvattha, Plakṣa, Nyagrodha trees,” they called, “have you seen the son of Nanda pass this way, stealing our minds with His loving glances and radiant smiles?” “O Kurabaka, Aśoka, Nāga, Punnāga, Campaka trees, has Rāma’s younger brother, whose smile humbles the proud, passed this way among the haughty maidens?” “O blessed Tulasī, dear to Govinda’s feet, surrounded by swarms of bees, have you seen the beloved Acyuta pass by, adorned with you?” “O Mālatī, O Mallikā, O Jāti, O Yūthikā, have you seen Mādhava pass by, delighting you with His touch?” “O Cūta, Priyāla, Panasa, Āsana, Kovida, Jambu, Arka, Bilva, Bakula, Āmra, Kadamba, Nīpa, and all other trees on the banks of Yamunā, please reveal to us, whose hearts are empty, the path Kṛṣṇa has taken.” “O Earth,” they exclaimed, “what austerity have you performed, that you shine, your hairs standing on end with joy from the festival of Keśava’s feet touching you? Is it from the touch of His feet, His mighty deeds, or the embrace of His Boar form?” “Or has Acyuta come here to His beloved, O friend, delighting her senses with His body and gaze? The fragrance of the garland on the chief of the clan, stained with the kuṅkuma from His beloved’s breasts, is wafting here.” “With His lotus hand placed on the shoulder of His beloved, Rāma’s younger brother, followed by intoxicated bees and Tulasī, is wandering here; do the trees bow to Him as He passes, glancing at them with affection?” Thus, longing and searching, the women of Vraja poured out their hearts to the very earth, trees, and flowers, seeking the path of their Beloved, the Lord.