Once, long ago, the great sages gathered to discuss the highest truths. It was then that you, O wise one, journeyed to the sacred realm of Śvetadvīpa, seeking to behold the Lord who resides there. In that pure land, where the Vedas themselves find their rest, the doctrine of Brahman was thoroughly examined, and the very question you now ask Me was raised and explored. Those present were equals in wisdom, austerity, and noble conduct. Their lives mirrored each other, not only in learning but also in what they possessed, in their friends and adversaries. Some among them expounded upon the doctrine, while others listened with keen attention and reverence. At that gathering, Śrī Sanandana spoke. He described how, at the end of a cosmic cycle, the Lord absorbs the creation back into Himself, reclining in union with His own energies. In that stillness, the Vedas themselves, bearing their distinct marks, arose and awakened Him—just as bards stir a sleeping king at dawn with songs of his valor and noble deeds, so too did the divine attendants awaken the Lord with sacred hymns. The Vedas praised Him, exclaiming: “Victory, victory! O Unborn, O Unconquered One, cast off the faults that come with the qualities of nature! In Your own essence, all powers are perfectly contained. You are the awakening force behind all energies, manifest and unmanifest. Sometimes the Vedas follow in Your wake, yet when You move by Your own inscrutable will, even they cannot reach You.” The wise, perceiving this vast universe as ultimately insubstantial—just as the many forms of clay are but transformations of the same substance—fix their minds, words, and actions upon You. For what reality can the fleeting footprints of men on earth truly possess? Thus, O Lord of the three worlds, the wise, having plunged into the nectar-ocean of Your stories—which purify all impurities—abandon even their austerities, for what need have they of anything else? And what of those who, purified of all motives and desires, dwell in Your own realm, worshipping Your supreme abode and experiencing unbroken bliss? Just as the vital airs, though sustaining the body, move according to Your will, so too did the great elements, beginning with fire, create the cosmic egg through Your grace. From food onwards, the sequence of beings is but Your manifestation here, yet You remain beyond both the real and the unreal; whatever remains is Your immortal nature. Some, whose vision is limited, worship the lower path among sages, meditating on the subtle space within the heart 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 jaws of death. Entering various wondrous wombs as their cause, You shine forth in different degrees, like fire appearing in many 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 alone, abandoning all diversity, tasting only the One. Within these bodies, both inner and outer—Your own creation—You are called the Person, the bearer of all powers, present in every part. Thus, having examined the human path and the end of the Vedas, the wise worship Your feet on earth, trusting in You. Some, desiring to know the elusive truth of the self, labor in the ocean of Your immortal deeds, yet do not even seek liberation, O Lord. Having left their homes to join the company of swan-like devotees at Your lotus feet, they desire nothing else in this world. Following Your path, the flock of embodied beings moves through life with kin, friends, and beloveds, yet when they turn toward You—their true well-wisher and self—they find fulfillment. Alas, those who delight in false worship, harming themselves, wander in suffering, burdened by heavy bodies due to their attachments. Those sages who, with controlled breath, mind, and senses, practice firm yoga and worship You in their hearts—even their enemies attain You by remembrance. Women who are devoted to the serpent king, and we ourselves, are all equal, having tasted the nectar of Your lotus feet. Who among us truly knows the beginning, end, or course of the One from whom the sage was born, and after whom the gods, celestial and otherwise, follow? Therefore, He is neither existent nor non-existent, nor both; nor is He subject to time. When He reclines in this way, no scripture can reach Him. Those who teach that the soul is born, dies, or is different from the body, speak from ignorance, seeing only what appears. The idea that the person is made of the three qualities arises from ignorance; in You, and beyond You, such distinctions have no place in the experience of true knowledge. Just as gold, though appearing in various forms, is never abandoned by those who know its essence, so too the knowers of the self perceive all as the self. They do not reject the various transformations, for all is pervaded by You. Those who move about as Your companions, as the abode of all beings, tread fearlessly even upon the head of death. You, O Lord, gather even the gods as a herdsman gathers cattle, and those who have made friendship with You are truly purified, but not those who turn away. You are actionless, self-ruling, the bearer of all creative powers. The gods, ever wakeful, offer You tribute and serve You equally, just as the arms serve the universal sovereign. The creators of the worlds, assigned by You, act with awe in Your presence. All moving and unmoving species arise from the union of causes and the unborn, acting under Your gaze, O Free One. Yet, when freed from that, there is no other, nor a second, for the Supreme—just as space, bearing all things, remains incomparable and empty. If embodied beings were truly unlimited and all-pervading, there would be no rule of authority over them—yet that is not the case. And if what is born is made of that which is unborn, then the controller would remain, even if equality is accepted; but to reject this view is mistaken understanding. There can be no real origin for both Prakriti and Purusha, since both are uncreated. What arises from their union is unstable, like bubbles on water. In You, O Supreme, all these diverse names and qualities dissolve, just as rivers, with all their flavors, merge into the ocean. Among humans, those who recognize the intense delusion caused by Your Māyā and fix their minds on You, the source of all, develop ever-deepening devotion. How can fear of worldly existence persist for those who follow You, when even a mere frown from You creates terror in those who seek shelter elsewhere, like blades of grass? Those who strive to control the restless mind—like an untamed horse—by force of the senses and breath, but neglect the feet of the Guru, are afflicted by countless miseries, like merchants who abandon their helmsman and are lost at sea. When You exist, what value is there in relying on relatives, children, self, spouse, wealth, home, or chariots? For those who, ignorant of this, wander in pursuit of pleasure through union, who truly finds happiness, when their own share is denied and their own portion is lost? On earth, the sages, purified by visiting holy places and abodes, whose hearts are washed by the water from Your lotus feet, who fix their minds even once on You—the eternal bliss within—never again seek the abodes of those who rob men of their true essence. If one says, “This arises from the existent,” such reasoning is flawed, for it is inconsistent and sometimes false, not truly combining both. For practical dealings, distinctions are made, but these are passed down blindly, and speech, with its elaborate forms, confuses those who are dull-witted from ritual recitation. What did not exist before, and will not exist after dissolution, and is limited in between, appears in You as a mere illusion of one taste. Therefore, it is compared to distinctions of wealth or caste, but the wise understand that the play of the mind is false and its nectar is illusory. When the soul, by association with the unborn, takes on qualities through contact with the uncreated, it attains similarity to that, and then, freed from death, is released from its portion. You, too, abandon that form, as a snake sheds its skin, and in Your supreme, immeasurable glory, You are eightfold greater and beyond all measure. If the ascetics do not uproot the tangle of desire from the heart, then You, difficult to attain for the unworthy, remain hidden in the heart, like a jewel forgotten at the throat. For those who are not satisfied in soul, there is suffering on both sides, O Lord, since they have not reached Your state, free from death and firmly established. One who does not know You, the source of all auspicious and inauspicious things, cannot discern the qualities and faults arising from You, nor the words of embodied beings. Yet, in every age, O Lord with qualities, You are sung in unbroken succession, and those who hear of You are led toward liberation by human beings. Even the rulers of heaven could not reach Your end, O Infinite One, nor could the groups of cosmic eggs, known as Sāvarṇas, that exist between You. Just as dust motes float in the sky with the wind, so too do the Vedas, along with time, pass away; but in You, they bear fruit, and by rejecting the unreal, they find their end in You. When Brahmā had spoken thus, his sons, the Siddhas, honored Sanandana, understanding the true path of the Self. Thus, the essence of all the Vedas, Purāṇas, and Upaniṣads was distilled by the great souls of earlier times, who traversed the sky. And you, O heir of Brahmā, bearing this instruction of the Self with faith, lived on this earth as you wished, burning away the desires of men. Śrī Śuka continued: Thus, having received this instruction from the sage with faith and self-control, the muni Vīravrata, full and learned, spoke. Śrī Nārada then offered salutations to that Blessed Lord, Kṛṣṇa, of spotless fame, who holds all the powers of creation and destruction of all beings. Bowing to the ancient sage and his noble disciples, Nārada then went to the ashram of his father, Dvaipāyana. Honored by the Blessed Lord and having accepted a seat, Dvaipāyana narrated to him all that he had heard from the mouth of Nārāyaṇa. Thus, O King, has been described that which you asked us—how the mind may dwell upon Brahman, who is beyond definition and without qualities.