In the ancient tradition, it is taught that when relatives on earth offer three balls of rice—each named and marked by lineage—to those who have departed to other worlds, these offerings reach and nourish the ancestors established in the realm of the departed. Even for those ancestors who have not received such offerings, who may be lost and suffering in places of torment in five different ways, and for those who, by their own actions, are reborn at the end among unmoving beings, the connection remains. Among all manner of births and animal forms, whatever sustenance these souls receive in their respective wombs, it is in those very places that the offerings reach them. Whenever food is given as a śrāddha offering, at the proper time, to a worthy recipient and according to the prescribed rules, it brings true satisfaction to the ancestors. Wherever they may reside, they receive the food thus offered. Just as a calf, amidst a herd of lost cows, unerringly finds its own mother, so too does the śrāddha ritual, guided by sacred mantras, deliver the offering directly to its intended ancestor. Thus, it is declared by Manu that a śrāddha performed without fault and with genuine faith is effective and fruitful. Sanatkumāra, with his divine vision, also affirmed this truth. He who knows the cycles of the departed—their comings and goings, and the attainment of the śrāddha—teaches that the dark fortnight is meant for the benefit of the ancestors, while the bright fortnight is for dreams and rest. In this way, the ancestors are themselves gods, and the gods are also ancestors; in heaven, they exist as both, mutually intertwined. These ancestors are gods, and humans too are ancestors—father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, all linked in this sacred lineage. Thus, the domain of the ancestors who drink soma has been described, and their greatness is firmly established in the Purāṇas. This is the union of Soma, Sūrya, and Aila—the fulfillment and satisfaction of the ancestors through faith. The times of festivals and the realms of suffering have been briefly recounted, for this is the eternal creation. Though all the deformities and variations have been described in part, they are countless, and it is enough for one seeking prosperity to have faith in this teaching. This entire creation of the god Svāyambhuva has been explained in detail and in order—what more remains to be told? Now, a question arises: What of the four ages that occurred in the previous Svāyambhuva interval? Let us hear their natural order in detail. Previously, the earth and sky have been described. Now, let us turn to the four ages, listening closely to their measure, their enumeration, and their full detail. By the reckoning of the world, a human year is produced, and with this calculation, the four ages can be declared—their periods as brief as a blink, with the units carefully measured. Fifteen nimeṣas make one kāṣṭhā; thirty kāṣṭhās form one kalā; thirty kalās are a muhūrta; and thirty muhūrtas together make a full day and night. The sun divides day and night for humans: night is for sleep, and day is for activity and deeds. For the ancestors, one day and night equals a month. In this division, the dark fortnight is their day, and the bright fortnight is their night of rest. Thirty human months make one month for the ancestors, and three hundred sixty such months complete a year for them, as understood in human reckoning. By human measure, one hundred years are counted as three years and twelve months for the ancestors. For the gods, a day and night make one year. The day is when the sun moves north, and the night is when it moves south—thus, the divine day and night are counted. Thirty such years make one divine month; one hundred human years are three divine months. In this way, the divine reckoning is established. Thus, three hundred sixty years, plus sixty more, make one divine year as declared by human calculation. Three thousand human years, with thirty more, are said to be the year of the Seven Sages. Nine thousand human years, and ninety more, make the year of Dhruva. Thirty-six thousand human years, and sixty thousand more, are counted as one thousand divine years, according to those skilled in numbers. Thus, the sages have sung, using the divine reckoning; by this measure alone, the number of ages is established. In the land of Bharata, the sages speak of four ages: Kṛta, Tretā, Dvāpara, and Kali—the group of four ages. First comes the Kṛta age, then Tretā, then Dvāpara, and finally Kali; thus, the ages are to be reckoned in sequence. It is said that four thousand years make up the Kṛta age, with its dawn and dusk each of equal length. In the other three ages, with their dawns and dusks, the thousands and hundreds decrease by a quarter in each succeeding age. Those who know the reckoning of the yugas declare that the Treta Yuga is three thousand years, with three hundred as its twilight period, the portion of twilight equal to the twilight itself. The Dvapara Yuga is two thousand years, with four hundred as the portions of twilight; Kali Yuga is said to be one thousand years, with two hundred as the twilight and its remainder. Thus, the reckoning of the four yugas—Krita, Treta, Dvapara, and Kali—adds up to twelve thousand years. Now, hear the number of human years assigned to these: for the Krita Yuga, ten niyutas, two more, and five by count—thus, twenty-eight thousand years. For the Treta Yuga, a full prayuta and two more niyutas—counted as ninety-six thousand years. For the Dvapara Yuga, eight hundred thousand human years, and for the Dvapara Yuga again, sixty-four thousand years. In this way, the great cycles of time are measured and understood, each age unfolding in its appointed order, as revealed by the wise.