In the earliest times, those who were truthful and pure-minded turned their thoughts toward the highest perfection. In that age of innocence, the earth itself responded to their virtue: clothing, fruits, and ornaments appeared effortlessly for their use. Honey of remarkable potency, untouched and pure, filled every hive, and all beings were delighted, nourished, and free from disease by the abundance that perfection bestowed. Yet, as time passed, people began to seize the trees and the bees’ honey by force. With the loss of this honey, the wish-fulfilling trees—those that granted all desires—vanished from the world, here and there. Pressed by the rise of dualities and conflict, people constructed enclosures and boundaries. When the honey and the wish-fulfilling trees disappeared, a new means of sustenance arose: abundant rain began to fall, nourishing the earth. With this unceasing rain, rivers swelled and filled their channels. The union of water and earth gave birth to herbs, and soon trees and shrubs appeared, blossoming with flowers and bearing fruit in their proper seasons. This transformation was destined to occur, not merely as a result of the coming Tretā age, but as part of the world’s unfolding order. Now, people began to take trees, shrubs, and herbs by force, each according to their strength. By the command of the Grandfather Brahmā, King Pṛthu milked the earth herself, extracting treasures and riches through the power of time and effort. For the welfare of the brāhmaṇas, Brahmā created the kṣatriyas, and he established the performance of sacrifices—now free from the killing of animals. Yet, with these changes, passion and greed arose, along with conflict and uncertainty about what was right. In the Dvāpara and later ages, the sage Vyāsa divided the single Veda into four, arranging mantras and brāhmaṇas, altering tones and letters, and introducing general and specific changes, so that interpretations varied in different places. Thus were born the histories, the Purāṇas, and the treatises on dharma. As the ages progressed, suffering grew—caused by speech, mind, and body—and from this suffering, people became disillusioned. Through reflection, detachment arose, and with detachment, the faults of the world became clear. This conduct, mingled with passion and darkness, came to prevail in the Dvāpara age, and in time, as agitation increased, it would perish in the Kali age. In Kali, men, constantly troubled by darkness, would strive after fleeting things. Terrible fears—of drought and calamity—would haunt the lands. The greedy would speak falsehoods, and wicked people would be born, bringing great suffering. When the brāhmaṇas erred in their actions, fear would spread among the people. Sacrifices would be performed improperly, and those of little intelligence would recite the Vedas without understanding. In that Kali age, people would indulge in idleness—lying down, sitting, and eating to excess. There would be the killing of embryos and even of heroes. The twice-born would neglect their prescribed duties. The Vedas, dharma-śāstras, and Purāṇas would be disregarded, and among the brāhmaṇas, there would be no joy in their own dharma. People would become dependent on one another for alms and sustenance. Women would go about with their hair unbound, and at the end of the age, even the śūdras would take up the practice of dharma. Thus, through the passage of the ages, the world would change, each era marked by its own qualities, challenges, and the gradual decline of righteousness.