Listen now to the ancient reckoning of time and the journey of the ancestors, as revealed in the sacred tradition. The moments between the shifting phases of the moon—their junctions—are measured as two lavas, and in this order, the lunar days are all of equal length. The rituals and the utterance of the sacred ‘vaṣaṭ’ are performed in harmony with these measures. When the moon stands together with the sun, or stands opposed, and on the days of the full and new moon, the period known as parva is considered to be twice as long. At the special conjunctions called Kuhu and Sinivali, this period is again two lavas; and when the sun’s node aligns with the moon, the parva is counted in kalās. On the fifteenth day, the moon reaches fullness, completed by ten and five kalās, following the sequence of days. Thus, on this fifteenth day, the moon lacks a sixteenth kalā, marking the beginning of its waning, as has been declared. These cycles are not mere measures of time—they are the very life of the ancestors, the gods who drink Soma, who increase Soma’s flow. They are the seasons and the year itself, sustained by the gods. Now, let the mystery of the ancestors who partake of śrāddha be revealed—their path, their nature, and the fruit of the śrāddha offering. The path of the departed is hidden, their coming and going unseen, not even revealed through great austerity, much less by the ordinary eye. These ancestors are regarded as the worldly forebears of gods and pitṛs, and by the power of their righteousness, the twice-born proclaim that they attain union. Some, by steadfastness in the duties of life’s stages, by knowledge, and by actions performed with faith, ascend as well. There are seven ways by which they rise: through celibacy, austerity, sacrifice, offspring, śrāddha, learning, and the giving of food. Those who are devoted to these actions continue their journey until the body’s fall. In heaven, with the gods and pitṛs who partake of warmth and Soma, they rejoice, worshipping the ancestors. This is the well-known path of those with offspring, of those who perform śrāddha—the offering made by their own kin. Those ancestors who partake of the monthly śrāddha surpass even those who dwell in the Soma-world; these human ancestors are the true recipients of the monthly rites. Yet, there are others—those of mixed actions and births, who have fallen from the path of righteousness, deprived of the offerings of svadhā and svāhā. Having lost their bodies, they come to a difficult state, becoming pretas in Yama’s abode, lamenting their deeds and suffering in the places of torment. Long, emaciated, with unkempt hair and naked, tormented by hunger and thirst, they wander restlessly. Across rivers, lakes, ponds, and lotus pools, they roam, yearning for others’ food, driven ceaselessly from place to place. Some are cast into dreadful realms—the Śālmalī tree, the Vaitaraṇī river, the boiling cauldron of Kumbhīpāka, burning sands, or the forest of sword-leaves—tormented by their own actions, among sleepless, suffering souls. But for those in other worlds, whose relatives on earth offer three balls of rice, named and marked by lineage, the offerings do reach and satisfy them, wherever they dwell in the realm of the departed. Those who have not received offerings, who wander lost in torment in five ways, and those reborn among stationary beings according to their deeds, find sustenance in their new forms. In every animal birth, whatever food is suitable to that womb, that is what they subsist on. Whenever food is offered in śrāddha at the proper time, to a worthy recipient according to the rules, it brings satisfaction—the departed receive the offering wherever they may be. Just as a calf finds its mother among a herd, so too, the mantra of the śrāddha carries the offering to its intended recipient unfailingly. Thus, Manu declares that a śrāddha performed without defect and with faith is effective, and Sanatkumāra, seeing with divine vision, affirms the same. He who knows the coming and going of the departed, and the attainment that comes from śrāddha, says: the dark fortnight is for their benefit, while the bright is for dreams and night. In this way, the ancestors are gods, and the gods are ancestors; in heaven they are mutually both. The ancestors are gods, and humans too are ancestors—father, grandfather, and great-grandfather alike. Thus has the domain of the soma-drinking ancestors been described, and their greatness is established in the Purāṇas. Here too is the union of Soma, Sūrya, and Aila, and the satisfaction of the ancestors through faith. The times of festivals and the places of torment have been briefly recounted—this is the eternal creation. The various deformities have been described in part, for they are countless; but one who seeks prosperity should have faith. This creation of the god Svāyambhuva has been explained in detail and order. What more can be told? Now, a question arises about the four ages that occurred in the previous Svāyambhuva interval. Their natural order and measure are sought in detail. The earth and sky have been explained; now listen to the measure and enumeration of the four ages. By worldly measure, a human year is reckoned, and with this calculation, the four ages are declared—their periods as brief as a blink, their units measured precisely. Fifteen nimeṣas make one kāṣṭhā; thirty kāṣṭhās make one kalā; thirty kalās make one muhūrta; and thirty muhūrtas make a full day and night together. The sun divides day and night for humans—night for sleep, day for activity and work. For the ancestors, one day and night make a month; in this reckoning, the dark fortnight is their day, and the bright fortnight is their night of rest. Thus is the ancient order of time, the journey of the ancestors, and the sacred rites that sustain them.