The Supreme Sun, in his eighth form known as Vivasvān, is established in fire itself, cooking the food that nourishes all embodied beings. His ninth form, called Viṣṇu, is ever-present, shining forth and tirelessly destroying the enemies of the gods. In his tenth manifestation as Aṃśumān, he dwells within the wind, bringing joy and delight to all living creatures. The eleventh form of the Sun, named Varuṇa, resides in the waters, ever sustaining and nurturing life. And his twelfth form, called Mitra, stands established upon the banks of the lunar river, ever watchful for the welfare of all worlds. Sustaining himself solely on air, Mitra performed intense austerities there, embodying the very vision of friendship. In this state, he continually bestowed various blessings upon his devoted followers. Thus, for the good of all beings, this form was established in ancient times; because Mitra stood firm in friendship, he is remembered as the supreme friend. O best of the twice-born, by these twelve radiant forms, the Supreme Soul, Savitṛ, pervades and upholds this entire universe. Therefore, in each of the twelve abodes, the Sun’s forms are to be meditated upon and worshipped by devoted men, their minds ever absorbed in him. Whoever salutes the twelve Ādityas and recites their glory daily is honored in the very world of the Sun. But a question arises: If this Sun is the original, eternal god, why did he perform austerities, seeking boons as if he were an ordinary being? Hear now the supreme secret of this radiant one, a mystery once sought by Mitra and narrated to the great sage Nārada. Previously, I described the twelve forms of the Sun. Among them, both Mitra and Varuṇa engaged in deep austerities. Varuṇa, living on water, remained at the edge of the western ocean, while Mitra, sustaining himself on air, practiced penance in the sacred Mitravana. At that time, the great yogi Nārada, self-controlled and ever-wandering, descended from the peak of Mount Meru, from the heights of Gandhamādana, traversing all the worlds. He arrived where Mitra was absorbed in austerity. Seeing Mitra’s penance, curiosity arose in Nārada’s heart. He beheld the imperishable and undecaying one, both manifest and unmanifest, eternal, by whom the three worlds are upheld as a single essence—the great-souled one, father of all the gods and beyond even the highest. Nārada pondered: “Which gods or ancestors should such a being worship?” and thus addressed Mitra. He said, “O Lord, in the Vedas and Purāṇas, with all their branches, you are praised as the unborn, eternal creator, the unsurpassed foundation. All that was, is, and will be abides in you. The four stages of life, beginning with the householder, are established in you. Day and night, people worship you, taking refuge in your many forms. You are the eternal divinity, the father and mother of all. Tell me, which ancestor or god should you worship? We do not know.” “This is a profound and eternal secret,” Mitra replied, “not to be spoken lightly, yet I will reveal it to you just as it is, because you are devoted.” “That which is subtle, unknowable, unmanifest, unmoving, and constant—devoid of senses, sense-objects, and all beings—that alone is the inner self of all. He is the knower of the field, distinct from the three qualities, and is conceived as the Person. He is known as the blessed Hiraṇyagarbha, as intellect, as the great principle in yoga, and as primordial matter. In Sāṃkhya, he is described; in yoga, he is known by many names and forms. He is threefold, the soul of the universe, remembered as Śarva and the imperishable. By him, who is of single essence, this threefold world is upheld; bodiless, he dwells within all bodies. Though residing in bodies, he is untouched by actions. He is the inner self of mine, of yours, and of all who dwell in bodies. He is the witness of all, yet cannot be grasped by anyone, anywhere. Possessed of qualities and yet beyond qualities, universal, he is attainable only through true knowledge. With hands and feet everywhere, with eyes, heads, and faces everywhere, with ears everywhere in the world, he pervades all. With the universe as his head, arms, feet, eyes, and nose, he alone moves freely in the field, as he pleases. Here, the bodies are the fields; he, the soul of yoga, knows them as he wills, and thus he is called the knower of the field. He lies in the unmanifest city, and so is called the Person; the universe, manifold and knowable, is said to be him everywhere. Therefore, because of his manifold forms, he is remembered as the Universal Form; yet his greatness is one, and he is known as the One Person. He alone, eternal, is called the Great Person; according to the order of creation, he brings himself forth by his own will. This inner self creates himself a hundredfold, a thousandfold, a hundred thousandfold, and by the millions. Just as water fallen from the sky enters the earth, each according to its own nature, so does he enter the essence of all qualities. As the single wind, though one, becomes fivefold in bodies, so too is his unity and diversity—of this there is no doubt. Just as fire, by differences of place, receives distinct names, so, O sage, does he attain such designations among Brahmā and the others.” Thus was revealed the supreme secret of the Sun’s many forms and the one essence behind all, as witnessed by Nārada and spoken by Mitra.