As the sage gazed, he beheld the resplendent Meru, the golden mountain shining with countless jewels. Its lofty peaks glittered with myriad gems, and its slopes were filled with mysterious caves. The mountain was alive with the presence of many sages, its forests and groves thick and diverse, home to all manner of wondrous creatures and marvels. Majestic animals wandered freely—tigers, lions, boars, noble chauri-oxen, powerful buffaloes, great elephants, graceful deer, playful monkeys, and many others—making the mountain a place of extraordinary delight. The mountain was further sanctified by the presence of gods led by Indra, the perfected beings, celestial bards, serpent-spirits, sages, yakshas, apsarases, and a host of other divine beings. Thus, as he journeyed within the body of that wondrous boy, the sage beheld the glorious Sumeru. His vision extended further; he saw the mighty Himavat, the golden Hemakūṭa, Niṣadha, the fragrant Gandhamādana, Śveta, Durdhara, Nīla, the sacred Kailāsa, and Mandara. His sight encompassed Mahendra and Malaya, the Vindhya range, Pāriyātra, Arbuda, Sahya, Śuktimān, Maināka, and Vakraparvata, as well as countless other mountains—all the earth-supporting ranges, each adorned with precious stones. The sage’s gaze swept over Kurukṣetra and the lands of the Pāñcālas, Matsyas, Madras, Kekayas, Bāhlīkas, Śūrasenas, Kāśmīras, Taṅgaṇas, and Khasas. He saw the mountain-dwelling Kirātas, those with distinctive ear-ornaments, the desert peoples, the outcastes, and all other tribes living beyond the margins of society—each present within that cosmic body. Within, he saw again the animals: deer, monkeys, lions, boars, hyenas, hares, elephants, and countless other creatures. He beheld all the sacred fords, villages, and cities of the earth, as well as the activities that sustain human life—agriculture, cattle-tending, trade, and commerce. He saw the foremost gods, beginning with Indra, and other celestial beings—gandharvas, apsarases, yakshas, and the ancient seers. He witnessed the hosts of daityas and dānavas, the nāgas, the great sages, the sons of Siṃhikā, and the enemies of the gods. In that vision, whatever moved or stood still in the world—every single thing—was revealed within that vast belly. Indeed, what need is there for further enumeration? From Brahmā down to a single blade of grass, all that exists—moving or unmoving—he saw within. His vision reached the earth-world, the mid-region, the heaven-world, Mahar, Janas, Tapas, Satya, Atala, and Vitala. He saw also Pātāla, Sutala, Vitala, Rasātala, Mahātala, and the cosmic egg itself—all contained within that divine belly. By the grace of that god, the sage moved freely, unimpeded, and his memory remained clear. Yet, though he wandered throughout, he could not find the end of Viṣṇu’s body, for the entire universe was encompassed therein. When he realized he could not discover the body’s limits, he sought refuge in that boon-giving Lord. Then, by the force of the wind, he was suddenly expelled from the mouth of that great-souled being, whose mouth was open. Emerging thus, the sage once more saw the earth, now a single vast ocean, empty of people. He saw again, as before, that divine child seated upon a couch formed by a branch of a banyan tree. The god bore the mark of Śrīvatsa on his chest, wore radiant yellow garments, and had four arms, holding the universe itself. His eyes were as wide and beautiful as lotus petals. The Lord, smiling gently as he saw the sage approach—still floating and barely conscious from his journey—addressed him: “Child, did you rest in my belly? While wandering there, did you see anything wondrous? You are my devotee, O best of sages, weary and sheltered by me. Therefore, for your benefit, look upon me here.” Hearing these words, the sage was filled with joy, his hair standing on end. Before him stood the one who is difficult to behold, adorned with divine jewels. In an instant, by the Lord’s grace, his vision became purified and clear, and he saw anew. Overwhelmed, the sage bowed his head at the Lord’s feet, whose tips were red and worshipped by the gods. With his voice choked with emotion, hands joined in reverence, he began to praise the Supreme Self: “O God of gods, Lord of the universe, who takes the form of a magical child—protect me, O beautiful lotus-eyed one! I am suffering and have come to you for refuge. Tormented by the fire called Saṃvartaka, and frightened by the rain of embers, O Supreme Person, protect me. “I am dried by the fierce wind, the life-breath of the universe; I am distressed and weary—protect me, O Supreme Person. I am scorched by the ministers of destruction, by the whirlwinds of dissolution and the like; I find no peace—protect me, O Supreme Person. “Thirsty and afflicted by hunger, suffering, O Lord of the world, I see no protector here; save me, O Supreme Person. In this dreadful, single ocean, where all moving and unmoving beings are destroyed, I find no end—save me, O Supreme Person. “Within your belly, O Lord of gods, I have seen all that moves and does not move; I am astonished and distressed—save me, O Supreme Person. In this world, without support, be gracious, O Supreme Person; be gracious, O best of the gods; be gracious, O beloved of the gods.” Thus, the sage, awed and overwhelmed by the vision and by his ordeal, surrendered himself completely to the Lord, seeking protection and grace from the Supreme Person who had revealed to him the mystery of the universe within himself.