By his supreme will, forms arise or do not arise in this world. Wherever desire is fulfilled, whether among the moving or unmoving beings across the three worlds, it is his wish that brings things into being or withholds them. Sound, touch, taste, smell, form, and even the mind itself—all these manifest only as he desires, or remain unmanifest if he so wills. This Lord is beyond birth and death; he is never cut or split, never burned nor deluded, never dissolved nor stained by anything. He is never diminished, never decays, and is untouched by affliction. He is not created, nor does he undergo any transformation anywhere. He is without smell, taste, or form; without touch or sound; colorless, toneless, and sometimes entirely without any distinguishing characteristic. Though he enjoys the objects of the senses, he is never bound by them. Being subtler than the subtlest, he is supreme, and by virtue of this subtlety, he is the very source of liberation. Because he pervades all and leads to liberation, he is called the Puruṣa—the all-pervading spirit. In his subtlety, the Puruṣa abides in supreme sovereignty. Transcending all qualities, established in his own sovereignty, he is known everywhere as the most subtle. When one attains this unobstructed sovereignty, one reaches the highest yoga. From that state, one proceeds to liberation, to that most subtle and supreme realm. Thus, O best of sages, know this as the Pāśupata yoga—a path that yields the fruits of both heaven and final liberation, and is the cause of union with Śiva. If, moved by passion, one acts after knowing this path, then those actions are performed in the light of knowledge. Having experienced actions born of passion or darkness, one is released right there; similarly, the one who has performed virtuous deeds enjoys their fruit in heaven. From there, the best among them is reborn as a human, and from that human birth, one attains the supreme bliss of Brahman, the eternal and highest Brahman. Indeed, one should serve Brahman alone, for Brahman is the highest happiness; all the great sacrifices are truly meant for this purpose. Yet, again one may fall under the sway of death—thus, liberation is recognized as the highest happiness. Or, being steadfast in meditation and devoted to the truth of Brahman, one remains unshaken, even through hundreds of aeons. Having beheld the divine Puruṣa, called Viśva, who faces all directions, whose feet, head, and neck are the universe itself, the Lord of all, of universal form, garlanded and adorned with the universe, clothed in the universe itself—he who moves the earth with cows, and prevents birds from being born again in this way—this ancient sage, the ruler, is subtler than the subtle, greater than the great. He is to be seen only by yoga, not by the physical eye. This Puruṣa, transcending the senses, is golden-hued, without mark, free of qualities, conscious, eternal, all-pervading—he is the very essence of all. He has no hands or feet, no belly, sides, or tongue; he is beyond the senses, extremely subtle, and one alone. He knows all, though not all know him. He is called the foremost, the great Puruṣa. Yogis perceive Prakṛti—insentient, all-pervading, subtle, the very source of creation—joined to all beings. That one, the Puruṣa, has hands and feet everywhere, faces, heads, and mouths everywhere; with ears in every place, pervading all, he abides. United with yoga, the wise know the Lord—the eternal, all-pervading Puruṣa of all beings—and are never deluded. The one who meditates on the self of all beings, the great self, the imperishable supreme self, the all-self, the supreme Brahman, is never deluded. Just as the wind, though present in all forms, is hard to grasp and dwells within the body, so too is the being called puruṣa: subtle and difficult to comprehend. If, however, a soul departs with residual karma remaining, then, united with semen and blood, it enters the womb of Brahma. From the union of man and woman, the lord is born; then, in due time, what is called the kalala—the embryonic mass—arises. This kalala, in time, becomes a bubble, just as a lump of clay takes shape on the potter’s wheel. Shaped by the hands, it forms a sphere; endowed with inner energies and filled by the vital wind, it develops further. Within the womb, the soul may think, “When I leave this place, I will seek refuge in the great Lord.” Until the Vaiṣṇava wind touches the newborn, it is right to contemplate worshipping Mahādeva. For that duration, the thought arises, “I will worship the great god.” Then, a human is born, according to their form and age. Wind arises from space, water is produced from wind, life arises from water, and from life, semen increases. There are thirty-three parts of blood and fourteen parts of semen; taking half of these together, the embryo is then formed. United with the embryo and enveloped by the five vital winds, each limb of the body develops from the father’s side. Then, from the mother’s food, through the intake of digested nourishment, the vital airs enter by way of the navel, for these are the supports of embodied beings. After nine months, the being, afflicted and with head and neck bent, all limbs compressed, is unable to move freely. Having dwelled for nine months, facing downward at the opening of the womb, by his own evil deeds, he then attains hell. He experiences the forest of sword-leaves, the cutting of the Śālmalī tree, beatings, and is forced to eat pus and blood. Just as separate streams of water flow together again, so too those who are cut and broken are brought to the place of torment. Thus, souls tormented by their own self-made sins, by their remaining deeds, experience suffering—or, if their actions are otherwise, they experience something different.