Those who ensure the ongoing cycle of the world, sustaining its very fabric, are established firmly upon the ancestral path. With their hearts set upon attaining the higher worlds, they choose the southern path, guided by their longing for celestial realms. Their lives are purified through rigorous austerities, the careful observance of sacred boundaries, and the dedicated pursuit of learning. From one generation to the next, the later ones are born of the earlier, even as the elders depart from this world. Among these noble souls, there are eighty-eight thousand sages who have embraced the life of householders. This number marks those who, having performed their rituals and duties, ultimately entered the cremation grounds at the end of their earthly journey. It is through various causes—inclination, aversion, action, and indeed through sexual union—that these perfected beings, having reached fulfillment, entered the cremation grounds. Of these sacred places, one lies north of Nāga Street, and another is found south of the assembly of the Seven Sages. In these sanctified grounds dwell perfected beings—pure, steadfast in celibacy, and devoted to spiritual discipline. There are also eighty-eight thousand sages who have mastered the upward retention of their vital seed. By abstaining from union and refraining from worldly sexual contact, and again, by uniting without desire and recognizing the flaws in sensory pleasures such as sound, these sages have attained a higher state. Among those who remain steadfast even at the time of cosmic dissolution, immortality itself is revealed. Yet, others are distinguished by their merits and demerits, whether through acts such as the killing of a fetus or the performance of the horse sacrifice. Above and beyond even these sages, Dhruva is remembered as residing in that exalted realm. There, those who uphold the worlds—like Dharma and Dhruva—remain, sustaining the cosmic order. Now, let me declare in order all the future courses of these celestial beings: the movements of the sun and moon, and likewise all the planets. All these I will recount, whether in sequence or without confusion. The listeners, eager for understanding, humbly request, “Tell us, O noble one, for even that which is seen directly still confounds the minds of people.” Dhruva, the illustrious son of Uttānapāda, stands fixed in the heavens. The stars revolve around him, following his motion as spokes revolve around the hub of a wheel. The sun, the moon, the stars, and all the planets move together with the constellations. Their conjunctions, separations, movements, and the courses of time—all these arise from Dhruva. The equinoxes, the shifting colors of the planets—all these, too, proceed from him. From Dhruva come all auspicious and inauspicious results for living beings. Dhruva is that blazing, radiant one—the very sun, the fire of time itself. The sun, with his network of rays, pervades all things, moving in union with the wind. All water is drawn up by the sun and transferred to the moon, and the water that flows from the moon nourishes the plants. Thus, water is ceaselessly lifted up and falls down again in an eternal cycle. This wondrous process is the illusion created for the sustenance of the worlds. The Lord of all—the creator, the thousand-eyed god, the progenitor—oversees this cosmic order. All the water in the worlds, whether from the moon or the sky, is governed by his will. Heat emanates from the sun, while coolness proceeds from the moon. The pure and sacred Ganges is sustained by the moon’s power. Indeed, the very water present in the bodies of all beings is part of this grand cycle. That water, having become vapor, departs from this world entirely, leaving behind all desire. Thus, the great cycle of creation, sustenance, and dissolution continues, guided by the will of the divine.