The qualities and movements of the elements within the body are wondrous and subtle. Consider the sounds of the drum, kettle-drum, conch, thunder, and chariot—each arises through the play of air, revealing the manifold nature of touch. Touch itself, born of the wind, is not singular but diverse: it may be rough or soft, smooth, light, or heavy. In truth, the quality of wind is said to be elevenfold, manifesting in many ways. This wind moves with ceaseless impulses, numbering nine, and its course is ever irregular, never fixed. Alongside wind, water and fire are always active within embodied beings, supporting life at every moment. Just as a powerful being acts upon gaining the support of the earth, so too, when the vital breath is present—whether in the head or in the fire of speech—it moves and animates the body. Mind, intellect, ego, the elements, and the senses all follow in the wake of the equalizing breath, each finding its own path and function. The downward-moving breath, apāna, circulates to carry away waste such as urine and feces. The wise, skilled in the knowledge of the self, call another breath udāna. Within the bodies of humans, another is taught as vyāna, which moves throughout, distributing fluids and humors to every part. Each breath has its own seat: the fire within, agni, digests properly when established in its place. From this inner fire, semen is produced, and all the bodily channels are formed. The fire that digests food in embodied beings is known both as heat and as agni. When this fire ascends, it again raises the inner flame, sustaining life. At the root of the navel, all the vital breaths are established, their channels carrying the essence of food throughout the body, impelled by the ten vital breaths. The steady and wise, having conquered fatigue, place the self in the head, where the inner fire is ever kindled, like a pot set upon a hearth. Through this, a person breathes and speaks, but when the soul departs, these actions become purposeless. The fire within consumes what remains, and the soul is again purposeless. It is the wind alone that finally departs, and with it, the body’s warmth is destroyed. One may observe the wind as if held between the palms, departing along with all its qualities. Just as water, freed from the great ocean, leaves behind only a vessel, so too does the vital breath depart, and the body is destroyed, just as water evaporates. Of the four elements—earth, water, fire, and air—if any one is absent, there can be no doubt that life ceases. Fire is destroyed for want of fuel, just as it is for lack of food; when either is afflicted, the whole aggregate dissolves. What, then, does the living being tire of, what does he hear, and what does he say, once these elements have departed? When a creature dies after giving—how can that which is gone, like a cow that has perished, save anyone? They dissolve right here; reunion is impossible for them. For one consumed by fire, how can there be life again? As long as life endures, one acts, but once dead, how can he return? The dead are destroyed, and from the seed, the seed is destroyed. Therefore, the seeker implores, “Turn them back, O all-knowing one, for I have taken refuge in you. Speak again, best of sages, to dispel this doubt.” The sage replies: The living being goes on to another body, but the body itself decays and perishes. Thus is the truth of embodied life and the journey of the soul.