Listen, and I shall recount a sacred teaching from the Liṅga Purāṇa, where the signs of approaching death and the path to liberation are revealed with clarity and compassion. When a person trembles again and again, whether by night or by day, and no longer perceives even the faint scent of a lamp, know that death draws near. If one beholds a rainbow at night, or sees the stars form a circle during the day, or cannot see their own reflection in another’s eyes, such a one does not live long in this world. Likewise, when only one eye sheds tears, or the ears lose their natural position, or the nose becomes crooked, it is to be understood that life has departed. Further, if the tongue turns black and rough, if the mouth takes on the appearance of a lotus, or if the cheek swells red, death is at hand. A man whose hair is unbound, who laughs, sings, or dances while moving southward, is nearing the end of his life. When the body appears repeatedly white—dense and bright as a mass, like white mustard seeds, or altogether pale—death is imminent. If in a dream one sees camels or donkeys yoked to a fine chariot, especially when proceeding southward, that person’s days are few. Should two or the most dreadful omens unite in one, and they cannot hear sound in the ear or see light in the eye, this is a grave sign. If one dreams of falling into a pit from which he does not rise, or finds a door closed against him, his life is ending. Dryness of mouth, a hollow navel, and excessively hot urine are perilous symptoms. If someone is killed openly, by day or by night, and cannot see his slayer, his life is gone. At the end of a dream, if a man enters fire or cannot recall his memory, his death is near. Should he see his own garment—white, black, or red—in a dream, death approaches. When such omens manifest in the body and the destined time arrives, the wise should abandon sorrow and despair, remaining indifferent to the inevitable. At that hour, one should go out, facing east or north, to a pure, level, secluded place, free from creatures and disturbances. There, seated calmly in the svastika posture, with body, head, and neck straight, eyes steady and undistracted—like a lamp in a windless place—one should salute Maheśvara, the Great Lord. In a spot sloping gently to the east or north, the knower of scripture should practice, forsaking all desire, doubt, pleasure, and both happiness and sorrow. Withdrawing all faculties into the mind, one should constantly contemplate the pure, white light of meditation—at the nose, the tongue, the eyes, and the sense of touch. This concentration should be held at the ears, in the mind, in the intellect, and at the chest, always attentive to the proper times and actions. This twelvefold internal practice is called yogic concentration. It should be brought to the crown of the head a hundred or fifty times. For one fatigued by lack of focus, the breath moves upward; then, filling the body with the sound of Om, one becomes composed of Om, and, merging into the imperishable, becomes imperishable. Now, hear the characteristics of attaining Om. Om is to be known as composed of three measures, with the consonant as the Lord. The first measure is like lightning, the second is tamasic in nature, and the third is beyond all qualities, leading to the imperishable. This third measure is also called Gandhari, arising from the Gandhara note. Applied with the gentle touch of an ant’s gait, it is perceived at the crown of the head; as Om is intoned, it proceeds outward at the crown. Thus, the yogi becomes one with Om, and in the imperishable, he attains the imperishable. The Pranava, Om, is the bow; the self is the arrow; Brahman is the target. The vigilant seeker must pierce this target, becoming one with it, for this single syllable Om is the hidden goal within the cave of the heart. Om encompasses the three worlds, the three Vedas, the three sacred fires, and the three steps of Vishnu—Rk, Saman, and Yajus. The three measures and the half-measure must be truly understood; the yogi who applies himself to this attains union with that supreme world. The syllable ‘a’ is imperishable and represents the earth; ‘u’ is joined with it and stands for the atmosphere; ‘m’, together with ‘a’ and ‘u’, completes the threefold Om, which is called three-measured. ‘A’ is the earth world, ‘u’ is the atmosphere, and ‘m’ is the heaven world. Om is the three worlds, and its head is the highest heaven. All the limbs of the worlds are that Brahman, the supreme state. The measureless part is the world of Rudra; the unmeasured part is the state of Shiva. By special knowledge, that state is to be worshipped. Therefore, one who delights in meditation should, with effort, worship that measureless, imperishable syllable, desiring eternal happiness. The first measure of Om is short, the second is long, the third is protracted. These measures must be understood precisely and practiced in order, sustained only as long as possible. Whoever meditates within himself on the senses, mind, and intellect, even for half a measure, attains a result equal to the merit gained by performing the Aśvamedha sacrifice every month for a hundred years. No amount of severe austerity or sacrifices with abundant gifts can yield the fruit attained by properly practicing the measure of Om. Thus, the path is revealed: in recognizing the signs of death, abandoning sorrow, and meditating upon Om, one finds the gateway to the imperishable and the highest state.