O King, listen as I recount this sacred narrative, woven from the very words of the scripture. All that appears in this world—what did not exist before creation, and will not remain after dissolution, and is but a fleeting presence in between—arises in You, the Supreme, as a mere illusion, undivided in essence. Just as distinctions of wealth or caste are ultimately false, so too the wise recognize the mind’s play as illusory, its sweetness but a mirage. When the soul, through association with the unborn and uncreated Supreme, acquires divine qualities, it becomes like that Supreme, freed from death and released from its limitations. Even that form, once assumed, is cast off by You, O Lord, as effortlessly as a snake sheds its skin, and You remain in Your immeasurable, eightfold glory, transcending all measure. Yet, if one fails to uproot the tangle of desires from the heart, You, who are difficult to attain for the unworthy, remain hidden within, like a precious jewel forgotten at the throat. For those not satisfied in soul, suffering persists on both sides of life, O Lord, for they have not reached Your deathless, steadfast state. One who does not know You—the source of all auspicious and inauspicious things—cannot discern the true nature of qualities, faults, or the words of embodied beings. Yet, O Lord with qualities, in every age You are sung in unbroken succession, and those who hear of You are led toward liberation by the wise. Even the rulers of heaven could not reach Your end, O Infinite One, nor could the cosmic eggs known as Sāvarṇas, which exist between You. Just as dust motes drift in the sky with the wind, so too do the Vedas and time pass away; yet, in You, they find their true fruit, and by rejecting the unreal, they find their end in You alone. The Blessed Lord spoke: “Thus, having heard this teaching from Brahmā, his sons, the Siddhas, honored Sanandana, who knew the path of the Self. In this way, the essence of all Vedas, Purāṇas, and Upaniṣads has been distilled by the great souls of ancient times, traversing the heavens. And you, O heir of Brahmā, bearing this wisdom with faith, live on earth as you wish, burning away the desires of men.” Śuka continued: Having received this instruction with faith and self-control, the sage Vīravrata, full of wisdom, spoke. Nārada then said: “Salutations to that Blessed Lord, Kṛṣṇa, of spotless fame, who holds all powers of creation and destruction.” Thus, bowing to the ancient sage and his noble disciples, Nārada went to the ashram of his father, Dvaipāyana. There, honored by the Blessed Lord and having taken his seat, he recounted all he had heard from the lips of Nārāyaṇa. Now, O King, what you have asked—how the mind may dwell upon Brahman, who is beyond all definition and without qualities—has been described. Meditate constantly upon that Hari, who observes the beginning, middle, and end of the universe, who is Lord of the unmanifest, of living beings, and of the gods. Having created this world, He enters it and, through the seers, governs it. Upon attaining Him, the embodied soul departs, just as a bird leaves its nest at nightfall. Upon that fearless, originless Hari, one should meditate always. Thus ends the eighty-seventh chapter, “The Prayers of the Vedas,” in the second half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. The king then inquired further: “Among gods, demons, and humans, those who worship the inauspicious as auspicious are mostly wealthy rulers, but not true devotees of Hari, the Lord of Lakṣmī. I wish to understand this, for I am filled with doubt—why do those who worship two lords of opposing natures attain opposite results?” Śuka replied: “Śiva, ever united with power, is threefold, enveloped by the guṇas—he is of the nature of sattva, rajas, and tamas; thus, I too am threefold. From him arose various transformations, sixteen in number, and, assuming all forms, he becomes all states. But Hari is directly beyond the guṇas, the Supreme Person, transcendent to nature, the witness and overseer of all. By worshipping Him, one becomes free from the guṇas. When the aśvamedha sacrifices had ceased, your grandfather, the king, having heard of the Lord’s dharmas, asked this very question of Acyuta. The Blessed Lord, pleased with his attentive service, spoke to him for the highest good of men—He who descended in the Yadu line. The Lord said: ‘When I show special favor to someone, I gradually take away his wealth. Then, his relatives abandon him, and he, afflicted by suffering, suffers further. When, frustrated and disillusioned with worldly pursuits, he befriends my devotees, I bestow my grace upon him. That supreme, subtle Brahman, consisting only of consciousness, eternal and infinite—knowing it as the Self, the wise one is freed from saṃsāra. Therefore, people, finding Me difficult to worship, turn to others. Intoxicated and arrogant from the quick boons they receive—kingdoms and prosperity—they become proud, reckless, and, seeking further boons, disregard Me.’ Śuka continued: ‘The lords of blessing and curse—Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śiva, and others—of these, Śiva quickly grants boons or curses, Brahmā is more reserved, and Acyuta never gives such rewards instantly. There is an ancient tale of this: Having granted a boon to Vṛkāsura, the Lord of the Mountain (Śiva) fell into distress. There was an asura named Vṛka, son of Śakuni. On his path, he met Nārada and, being of wicked mind, asked him which of the three gods was quickest to be pleased. Nārada told him, ‘Go quickly to Girisha (Śiva), for he is easily pleased or angered by even the smallest virtue or fault. Just as he was pleased by the praises of Rāvaṇa and Bāṇa, granting them incomparable power—though they later fell into great distress.’ Thus instructed, Vṛka hurried to Śiva, offering his own flesh as oblation into the mouth of Hara, who is like fire. For seven days he continued, but when the god did not appear, out of despair, he cut off his own head with a sharp blade at that holy place. Then, the great compassionate one, Dhurjati, as we might, like fire springing from a flame, restrained him, preventing him from touching the ground, and restored his form, now more splendid. Śiva said to him, ‘Enough, Angala! Choose a boon from me as you desire; I am pleased even by water offered by those who surrender, but you have tormented yourself excessively and in vain.’ The sinful asura then asked for a boon that would bring terror to beings: ‘Whosoever’s head I touch with my hand, let him die.’ Though displeased, Lord Rudra laughed and granted the boon, saying ‘Om,’ just as nectar might be given to a serpent. To test his boon, the demon tried to place his own hand on Śiva’s head, but Śiva, fearful of his own act, withdrew. Pursued by Vṛka, trembling with fear, Śiva fled, running to the ends of heaven and earth, to the boundaries of all directions, and even into the waters. The lords of the gods, not knowing any remedy, sat in silence. Then, in his distress, Śiva went to Vaikuṇṭha, the radiant realm beyond darkness. Thus, O King, the divine narrative unfolds, revealing the profound difference between those who seek quick rewards and those who seek the Supreme, and how the Lord’s grace, though subtle and slow, leads to the highest good.