The guardians of the worlds, stationed in the four cardinal directions as well as in the realms of shadow, stand free from all duality, pride, weariness, and attachment to possessions. In the north, there rises the sacred peak of Agastya, venerated by the divine sages. This peak is renowned as the path of the ancestors, situated beyond the route known as the path of Vaiśvānara. It is upon this ancestral path that sages who desire progeny and those who perform the sacred Agnihotra ritual dwell. These venerable beings, who sustain the world through their rites, remain firmly established on this path of the ancestors. O lord of the people, those who seek the beginnings of worldly existence and its blessings undertake actions; their journey follows the southern route. Whenever righteousness falters in the world, these guardians restore it in every age through intense austerity, well-established boundaries, and the wisdom of sacred knowledge. In the cycle of existence, those born in earlier times are reborn into the houses of the later, and the later ones are born into the houses of the earlier at the time of death. Thus, these eighty-four thousand householding sages revolve in this way, continuing their cycle until the dissolution of all beings. Those who have taken the southern path of the sun reach the end of beings at the time of cosmic dissolution. This is the fate of those who performed rituals and entered the cremation grounds, their journey shaped by worldly concerns, the initiation of new lives, desires and aversions, and the union of man and woman. Actions born of desire, enjoyment of sense objects, and these very causes lead them to the cremation grounds. However, in the Dvāpara ages, there arose seven sages known as the Prajauṣaṇis. These sages, having renounced procreation, conquered death itself. Among them, eighty-four thousand celibate sages existed, and the path of water does not reach its end for them, even up to the dissolution of beings. Through their union—marked by abstention from sexual intercourse, the cessation of envy and hatred, and refraining from harm to any living being—these sages attained great purity. By recognizing the faults in union with others, in sound and other sense objects, and by following these pure causes, they indeed attained immortality. The immortality of those who remain until the dissolution of beings is to be understood, for the span of the three worlds is not granted to those who tread the path of death. The results of their actions, whether sinful or meritorious—comparable to acts such as abortion or the great horse sacrifice—are exhausted at the end of the dissolution for those whose vital essence flows upward. Yet, above even these sages, where the steadfast Dhruva abides, lies a still higher realm: the divine third radiant realm of Viṣṇu, shining in the sky. Those who reach this supreme abode of Viṣṇu know no sorrow; but those who desire worldly existence remain fixed in the realm of Dhruva, upholding righteousness. Having heard this wondrous account, I turned to Lomaharṣaṇa and inquired further about the course of the sun and moon, and the movements of all the planets. “How do these luminous bodies move within the solar orb, all in perfect order and without confusion?” I asked. “Who causes them to revolve, or do they move by their own will? Please tell us, O best of the virtuous.” Lomaharṣaṇa responded: “Understand the bewilderment of beings as I explain it; even what is seen directly can perplex people. Among the fourteen stars resides one established as the dolphin—the steadfast Dhruva, son of Uttānapāda—who stands firm in the sky. It is he, revolving, who causes the sun and moon to revolve, along with the planets; the stars follow his movement, circling like a great wheel. The host of luminaries moves by the will of Dhruva, bound to him by invisible cords of wind, and thus they journey onward. Their separations and conjunctions, the marking of time, risings and settings, portents, and the southern and northern solstices—all these, as well as the equinox and the colors of the planets, are governed by Dhruva. The clouds known as Jīmūtas, too, are the source of living beings. The second is the inviting wind, into which these clouds take refuge; at a distance of a yojana and a half, they are also divided. The creation of rain among them is a continuous downpour, and from their wings arise the clouds called Puṣkarāvartakas. Once, Indra, seeing the abundance, wish-fulfilling power, and might of these clouds, cut off their wings with great force, for they sought the destruction of beings. The wings are called Puṣkarā, vast and full of water, and thus the clouds are named Puṣkarāvartakā. These clouds assume various forms and emit terrifying sounds; they bring the rains at the end of an age and restrain the fire of dissolution. Supported by the wind, they move, immortal and fulfilling the course of the age; when the cosmic egg was broken, these clouds were among its natural products. From this cosmic egg arose Brahmā, the self-born Lord with four faces. The very fragments of the shell are all declared to be clouds. Their nourishment is smoke, without exception; among them, Parjanya is the best, along with the four elephants of the directions. The families of elephants, mountains, and clouds, together with serpents, are of one kind, divided in two; their single origin is said to be water. Parjanya and the elephants of the directions, in winter, produce cold-born frost and rain for the increase of crops. The sixth, called Parivaha, is the wind that supports them, the Lord who bears the Ganges as it moves through the sky. That sacred, divine, nectar-like water, renowned as Tripathā, is scattered in trembling drops by the elephants of the directions with their broad hands. These droplets, as they fall, are called mist. To the south stands the mountain known as Hemakūṭa, marking the boundary of these wondrous happenings.