Śrutadeva, his heart overflowing with joy at seeing all his wishes fulfilled, gathered the sacred water that had been brought to him. With great delight, he, along with his family and household, bathed in it, feeling as if every desire had found its completion. Eager to honor his divine guests, Śrutadeva offered them fruits, fragrant roots, pure water, sacred clay, the five products of the cow, fresh tulasī leaves, kuśa grass, and beautiful lotuses. He performed the proper rites, those that bring forth goodness and drive away darkness. As he served, Śrutadeva marveled within himself: “How is it that I, who have been lost in the blind well of household life, have been granted this meeting? Here stands Kṛṣṇa himself, the dust of whose feet sanctifies all holy places, and these revered brāhmaṇas, who are his very abode!” When his guests were seated and honored, Śrutadeva, joined by his wife, children, and relatives, approached them reverently and touched their feet in profound respect. Then Śrutadeva spoke: “Today, the Supreme Person, who, after creating this world with his energies, enters it by his own being, has not come before us for the first time. Just as a man, lying in sleep, conjures a dream world by his own mind and then enters and illumines it, so does the Lord enter the world he has made. To those who listen, speak, worship, bow to you, and converse sincerely, you reveal yourself within their pure hearts. Yet, though dwelling in the heart, you remain far from those whose minds are distracted by action; and though inaccessible by your own power, you are not grasped by those attached to the qualities of matter. Obeisance to you, the Supreme Self, knower of the inner reality, who is beyond the self, who separates the self from death, who takes forms with and without cause, and whose vision is veiled by your own māyā. Therefore, O Lord, instruct us, your servants—what should we do? For the greatest suffering of people is that you are beyond the reach of their senses.” Hearing these humble words, the Lord—He who removes the distress of those who bow to Him—smiled warmly, took Śrutadeva’s hand in his own, and spoke: “O brāhmaṇa, know that these sages have come here for your blessing. They wander the worlds with me, purifying all by the dust of their feet. The gods, holy places, and sacred waters purify gradually through sight, touch, and worship, but even they are instantly purified by the gaze of the best of brāhmaṇas. Among all living beings here, the brāhmaṇa is superior by birth; how much more so when endowed with austerity, knowledge, and contentment, and especially when devoted to me. This four-armed form of mine is not as dear to me as the brāhmaṇas are. O brāhmaṇa, you are the embodiment of all the Vedas, and I am the embodiment of all the gods. Those who do not know this, who are envious and disrespectful, see me, the guru, the brāhmaṇa, and their own self as mere idols during worship. Whatever moves or does not move in this universe, and all their causes, the brāhmaṇa, by my vision, regards as my forms in his mind. Therefore, O brāhmaṇa, worship these brāhmaṇa sages with faith in me; if you worship in this way, I am truly worshipped—not otherwise, even with great opulence.” Thus instructed by the Lord, Śrutadeva, the king of Mithilā, worshipped the foremost brāhmaṇas along with Kṛṣṇa, seeing them as one with himself, and thereby attained the highest destination. O King, in this way, the Lord—ever devoted to his devotees and to devotion itself—having stayed there and shown the right path, returned once more to Dvārakā. Thus ends the eighty-sixth chapter, “The Blessing of Śrutadeva,” in the Tenth Canto of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. After hearing of these wondrous events, King Parīkṣit asked, “O brāhmaṇa, with regard to the indefinable, transcendental Brahman, how do the Vedas, which are based on qualities, function with respect to That which is beyond both existence and non-existence?” Śrī Śuka replied, “The Lord created the intellect, senses, mind, and vital airs of beings—for the sake of sense objects, for worldly purposes, for the self, and for the sake of non-identification. This, indeed, is the Upaniṣad of Brahman, upheld by the ancients of old; whoever holds it with faith, even if possessing nothing, attains well-being. Now, I shall recount to you the verse adorned by Nārāyaṇa, and the dialogue between Nārada and the sage Nārāyaṇa. Once, Nārada, beloved of the Lord, while wandering among the worlds, made his way to the hermitage of Nārāyaṇa to see the eternal sage. There, in the land of Bhārata, that sage had, from the beginning of the age, practiced austerity for the welfare and auspiciousness of all, endowed with dharma, knowledge, and tranquility. Surrounded by sages dwelling in the village of Kalāpa, Nārada bowed and asked him this very question, O best of the Kurus. To Nārada, the Lord spoke, as the sages listened—the doctrine of Brahman as held by the ancient residents of Janaloka. The Blessed Lord said: Once, in Janaloka, there was a sacrifice to Brahman by the descendants of Svāyambhuva, among the mind-born sages who were celibate. When you had gone to Śvetadvīpa to see its Lord, the doctrine of Brahman was thoroughly discussed there, where the Vedas rest, and the very question you now ask me was raised. All present were equal in learning, austerity, and conduct, and similar in their possessions, enemies, and friends; some expounded the doctrine, while others listened with rapt attention. Śrī Sanandana spoke: Absorbing this creation of his, the Lord lay down together with his energies; then, at the end, the Vedas awakened him with their marks, as if rousing him from slumber. Just as bards approach a sleeping king at dawn and awaken him with praises of his valor, so too did the Vedas, as his attendants, awaken him with noble hymns. The Vedas spoke: ‘Victory, victory! O Unborn, O Unconquered, cast off the faults acquired by the qualities! By your very nature, all powers are perfectly contained within you. You, who are the awakening of all energies in the unmanifest and manifest worlds, are sometimes followed by the Vedas, yet they cannot reach you when you move by your own inscrutable self. This vast universe, though perceived as existing, is ultimately insubstantial to the wise, just as the rise and setting of forms are truly in clay, not in the transformations themselves. Therefore, sages fix their minds, words, and actions on you—how then could the footprints of men on earth be otherwise than unreal? Thus, O Lord of the three worlds, the wise, having plunged into the ocean of nectar that is your stories—which destroy all impurities—abandon their austerities. What then of those who, purified of all motives of time and desire, dwell in your own realm and worship your supreme abode, experiencing unbroken bliss? Just as the vital airs, though sustaining the body, follow your will, so too did the great elements, beginning with the cosmic fire, create the cosmic egg by your grace. The sequence of beings, from food onwards, is your manifestation here, yet you are beyond both the real and the unreal, and whatever remains is your immortal nature. Those whose vision is limited, who worship the lower path among the sages, meditate on the heart as the path, the subtle space within as the way. From there, O Infinite One, your supreme abode arises above the head, and those who reach it do not fall again into the mouth of death. Entering the various wondrous wombs as their cause, you shine forth in different degrees, like fire in various forms, according to the actions performed. Yet, in those who are free from false identification, your supreme abode is realized equally; those pure-minded ones follow you, the one taste, abandoning all diversity.