Above the realm of Janaloka, four times higher in the vastness of the universe, lies Tapoloka. There, radiant and resplendent, dwell the gods who are freed from the limitations of physical bodies, established in their own brilliance. Yet even beyond, six times higher than Tapoloka, shines Satyaloka—a world untouched by death, a place of no return, perpetually attended by Siddhas and the greatest of sages. Turning our gaze to the worlds below, all that can be traversed by foot and is composed of earth is known as Bhurloka, whose extent has already been described. Between the earth and the sun lies Bhuvarloka, the second world, graced by Siddhas and great sages. Higher still, between the sun and the fixed star Dhruva, stretching across fourteen hundred thousand yojanas, is Svarloka—a region recognized by those who contemplate the structure of the worlds. These three—Bhurloka, Bhuvarloka, and Svarloka—are considered by the sages to be created worlds. In contrast, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka are said to be uncreated, existing beyond the cycles of creation and dissolution. Between these realms lies Maharloka, remembered as a world that bridges the created and the uncreated. Though it becomes empty at the close of each cosmic age, it does not perish. Thus, O twice-born sages, seven great worlds have been described: the three created, the three uncreated, and Maharloka in between. Beneath these are the seven nether regions—all together forming the expanse of the cosmic egg, or Brahmanda. This cosmic egg is entirely encompassed—above, below, and across—by its shell, just as the seed of a wood-apple is surrounded on all sides. Encasing this egg, there is a layer of water ten units deep; this watery enclosure is itself surrounded by fire. Beyond fire is wind, and wind is enveloped by the sky. Even the sky is surrounded by the great principle, mahat. All these—ten plus one, and all the rest, along with the seven worlds—are established in the primordial matter, pradhāna. The infinite has no end, nor can it be measured or counted; it is endless, uncountable, and beyond all measure. This supreme nature, O twice-born, is the cause of all that exists. There are thousands upon thousands, and tens of thousands, of such cosmic eggs. In truth, there are hundreds of millions—just as fierce fire resides hidden within oil in sesame seeds, so too does the spirit dwell within each cosmic egg. Abiding in primordial matter, the spirit—self-aware and all-pervading—experiences all beings together with matter. By the power of Viṣṇu, both matter and spirit are sustained and serve as the foundation of all; their distinction is the very cause of their mutual dependence. At the dawn of creation, that which causes agitation is present, just as the quality of coldness exists within a drop of water. In the same way, the power of Viṣṇu, consisting of primordial matter and spirit, pervades the world, as a tree is composed of root, trunk, and branches. From the original seed arise other seeds, and from them, more seeds are produced—thus, from those, further trees come into being. These too, O twice-born, inherit the characteristics, substances, and causes of the original; from the unmanifest, the great elements and all else are born. From these elements, further distinctions arise, giving birth to gods and others; from them come their sons, and from their sons, the supreme offspring. Just as a tree does not diminish when it sprouts from a seed, so too, in the creation of beings, there is no decrease in the source. Space, time, and other factors serve as causes for the tree by proximity; so too, by transformation, is the universe sustained by the blessed Hari. Just as from a grain of rice arise root, stalk, leaves, and sprout, and then stem, sheath, flower, milk, and grain, so do the husk and the grains come forth, having obtained the means for sprouting. Likewise, in the multitude of actions, the bodies of gods and others remain, and, having attained the power of Viṣṇu, they proceed to sprout forth. That Viṣṇu is the supreme Brahman, from whom the entire universe arises and into whom it will ultimately dissolve. That Brahman is the supreme abode, the highest state beyond being and non-being, whose indivisible essence upholds all that moves and does not move. He alone is the root-prakriti, manifest in form and as the world itself; into Him all things dissolve, and in Him they abide. He is the agent of all actions, worshipped as the sacrifice, and He alone is the fruit of those actions; from Him arises the beginning of each age, and apart from Hari, nothing whatsoever exists. In the sky, the Lord’s form is revealed as the constellation of the dolphin, composed of stars; in its tail is fixed Dhruva. As this dolphin-form revolves, it causes the revolution of the planets—the Moon, the Sun, and others—while the stars follow its movement like the spokes of a wheel. The Sun, Moon, stars, and planets are all bound to Dhruva by invisible bands of wind, securely fastened there. This celestial dolphin-form is the supreme abode of Nārāyaṇa, who is established as its very support in the heart of the universe. Having worshipped the Lord of creatures, the son of Uttānapāda—Dhruva himself—is established at the tail of this cosmic dolphin. Janārdana is the support of the dolphin and the overseer of all; the dolphin supports Dhruva, and the Sun is established in Dhruva. By this support, the entire world—gods, asuras, and humans—is upheld. Now, O sages, listen to how this sustenance unfolds. Vivasvān, the Sun, during eight months, draws up the waters that are the very essence of sap; then he causes rain to fall, from which arises food, and by food, the whole world is sustained. With his sharp rays, Vivasvān draws up the water of the world; then Soma nourishes it, and the Moon, by means of channels of air in the sky, distributes it for the benefit of all beings.