O best of the twice-born, listen to the journey of souls after death, shaped by their deeds upon earth. Those who gave ghee, honey, and milk in charity are welcomed into auspicious realms. Those who offered vegetables, who delighted in sharing rice pudding, and who bore lamps to illuminate the directions, all find their way to blessed destinations. One who gives away an entire city is praised along the path by the very immortals themselves. The giver of land or a house travels onward in a celestial chariot, adorned with every kind of wealth and comfort. Those who give horses, vehicles, or elephants, O foremost among sages, and those who give oxen, all depart riding splendid chariots, honored by the heavens. A man who gives betel leaves proceeds joyfully to the abode of Dharma, his soul fully content and honored by the dwellers of heaven. Amidst great happiness, he moves among the foremost of the twice-born and Brahmins, riding an aerial chariot furnished with every enjoyment. One who recites the Purāṇas journeys onward, praised by the best of sages. But, O best among the wise, Yama himself appears, now four-faced, bearing conch, discus, mace, and sword—a formidable presence. He reveals the terrifying suffering that awaits in hell. For, whoever attains this rare human birth yet fails to perform good deeds, and whoever, having gained this impermanent human form, does not strive for the eternal, faces great loss. The body itself is a source of torment, tainted by many impurities. Among all living beings, those endowed with intelligence are the best. Among Brahmins, the learned stand above the rest; among the learned, those of firm understanding excel. Even among those who speak of Brahman, the one free from possessiveness is said to be the highest. Therefore, with every effort, one should pursue righteousness in all its forms. By the merit of such deeds, one attains my abode, filled with every enjoyment. Thus, when such a soul is brought before him, Yama, having been worshipped, grants the blessed state. But then, at the end of life, there arises a roar, like the tumult of waters at the dissolution of the worlds, shining darkly like the Anjana mountain. There stands a being, three yojanas wide, with red eyes and a long nose, afflicted by the fever of death. Even Chitragupta, the great recorder, appears terrifying at this moment. He addresses the trembling sinners, saying: “O sinners, evil-doers, corrupted by arrogance! Your minds were blinded by desire, anger, and pride. You once committed sins with great delight, acting wrongly for the sake of servant, friend, wife, or wealth, as you wished. Those sons and loved ones whom you nourished have now gone elsewhere. As you committed many sins, now reflect on your past actions. Whether you were poor, foolish, learned, or wealthy, all must face the consequences.” Hearing these words from Chitragupta, the sinners are filled with dread. The cruel, fierce, and terrifying messengers of Yama arrive, obeying his command. The souls experience the fruits of their own evil deeds, and with the residue of sin still clinging to them, they are led onward. At this, a doubt arises in the mind of the sage—a question for the Lord, the ocean of compassion: “So many forms of righteousness have been described, as well as many kinds of sin. But at the end of Brahmā’s day, the destruction of the three worlds is declared. What then becomes of these souls and their deeds?” Thus unfolds the journey of souls, shaped by the balance of their actions, as the cosmos itself moves toward dissolution.