In the sacred conversation, it was explained that the qualities—sattva, rajas, and tamas—are firmly established in the intellect, and from there, they awaken desires and influence one another, much like individuals such as Devadatta, Vishnumitra, and Yajnadatta interact and affect each other. Just as a woman and a man unite as a pair, so too do these qualities come together, entering into a state of duality with each other. When rajas is present, sattva is also there; when sattva is present, rajas is not absent; and when tamas is at play, both sattva and rajas are found alongside it. Thus, these qualities never exist in isolation, but always intermingle. At this point, Nārada recalled: “This supreme nature of the qualities was described to me by my father. Yet, even after hearing his words, I found myself compelled to ask the grandsire again.” So Nārada addressed his father, saying, “Father, you have indeed described the characteristics of the qualities, but still I am not satisfied. The nectar of your words draws me to listen ever more. Please, describe in detail how one may discern these qualities, so that I may attain supreme peace of mind.” Vyāsa narrates that, thus addressed by his son Nārada, the great creator of the world, Brahmā—himself born of the quality of rajas—spoke: “Listen, Nārada, as I explain the nature of the qualities. I do not claim to know them in their entirety, but I will tell you as best as I understand. Sattva alone is never observed anywhere; because of their mixed nature, only their mixture is perceived. Consider this: just as a noble woman, adorned with all ornaments and full of charm and feeling, becomes pleasing to her husband, she alone brings joy to her mother, father, and family circle. Yet, at the same time, she causes sorrow and delusion among her co-wives. Thus, by her very essence and by the attainment of womanhood, a different disposition arises, generated from rajas and tamas. Indeed, through rajas manifesting as woman, and likewise through tamas, when these two combine, a different nature is seen. Because of the states of their own natures, Nārada, there are no other castes observed; only through contrary combinations do differences sometimes appear. Just as a woman endowed with beauty, adorned with youth, possessing modesty and sweetness, and joined with humility—one who knows the arts of love and is approved in the scriptures of righteousness—brings delight to her husband and causes sorrow to her co-wives, so too do the qualities operate. One whose nature is rooted in delusion and sorrow is said by people to be situated in sattva; yet when sattva is transformed, it appears as something else. Consider this: to the virtuous afflicted by thieves, that same army brings happiness; but to the wicked and the robbers, it brings misery and confusion, being of such a nature. By their very nature, the qualities avoid contrary perceptions, just as a bad day arises, covered by dense, great clouds. Accompanied by lightning and thunder, veiled in darkness, and pouring rain upon the earth—this is said to be the form of tamas. What is a most inauspicious day for farmers becomes, indeed, a source of happiness for those equipped with seeds and implements. Yet for those whose houses are not well-covered, for the unfortunate, and for those who dwell in huts of grass and wood, it brings sorrow to householders. It is said to bring delusion to women whose husbands are away; all qualities, when situated in their own nature, may appear as their opposites. Now hear, my son, the characteristics of these qualities. Sattva is always light, illuminating, pure, and clear. When the limbs and the senses—such as the eyes—are light, and the mind is pure and does not grasp at objects, then sattva should be understood as predominant in the body. But yawning, stiffness, drowsiness, and restlessness are manifestations of rajas. When rajas becomes predominant in anyone’s body, he seeks quarrels, desires to act, and wishes to travel to another village. Such a restless-minded person is excessively eager for dispute; and when there is obstruction—of the teacher, or of desire itself—that is tamas. Then, the limbs become heavy and powerless, the senses and mind are empty, and even sleep is not desired. Thus, O Nārada, the characteristics of the guṇas are to be understood. Nārada then asked: ‘The three guṇas, O Grandsire, have been described as having distinct characteristics. How do they, being established in one place, perform continuous action? Though distinct and mutually opposed, they act together, like enemies united. How do they, being together, accomplish an action? Please tell me.’ Brahmā replied: ‘Listen, my son, I will explain. The guṇas are like the elements of a lamp. Just as a lamp performs its function of illumination, the wick, oil, and flame are mutually opposed to each other. Oil, though opposed to fire, when joined with it, and the wick, though opposed to oil and fire, are all mutually opposed. Yet, being together in one place, they reveal objects.’ Nārada said: ‘Thus, O son of Satyavatī, the guṇas born of nature have been described. They are indeed the cause of the universe, as I have previously heard.’ Vyāsa concludes: “Thus, everything was explained to me in detail by Nārada—the characteristics and actions of the guṇas, their divisions, and the supreme power by which all is pervaded. She is both with qualities and without qualities, always according to the difference of actions. The Puruṣa is non-agent, complete, indifferent, supreme, and imperishable. This great Māyā creates the universe, consisting of the existent and non-existent; Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Rudra, Sūrya, Candra, and the lord of Śacī; the Aśvins, the Vasus, Tvaṣṭṛ, Kubera, the lord of the waters, Agni, Vāyu, Pūṣā, the commander of the army, and Vināyaka—all arise from her power.