Calamities seize people and drag them away, just as elephant-drivers forcefully guide elephants from their path. When greater suffering descends upon them, they abandon whatever pleasures they once knew and fall helplessly under the sway of death. No matter who they are, all must depart from this world, leaving everything behind; in a single moment, they go, never to return. Witnessing such impermanence and inevitable loss, how can anyone find true delight? Even in the midst of this perishing existence, there is no lasting peace. The king, beholding these truths, was filled with astonishment. With a troubled heart, he began to question further: “If this is the nature of existence, then what is the use of ignorance or knowledge? Whether one lives heedlessly or vigilantly, what difference does it make? For whom should action be performed, and what resolve is truly appropriate?” The sage Pañcashikha, perceiving the king’s distress, spoke soothingly: “This, too, is but a combination of body, senses, and mind. All beings are composed of the five elements—water, space, wind, fire, and earth. These elements—space, wind, heat, moisture, and earth—form the basis of the body. Within this body, knowledge, heat, and wind are its three main constituents. Prāṇa and apāna, the vital breaths, as well as transformation and bodily elements, all arise here. The five senses—hearing, touch, sight, taste, and smell—are led by the mind, and through them, beings experience pleasure, pain, and states that are neither pleasure nor pain. These five excellent qualities remain with a person until death, serving as the means for attaining knowledge. This knowledge is called the supreme purity, the imperishable great intellect. Yet, as long as one perceives things improperly, endless suffering continues without cease. On what foundation does this stream of suffering persist? Listen carefully, for I shall speak of that which leads to liberation. For those who are always misguided by falsehood, affliction brings only suffering and darkness. The abandonment of pleasure is the essence of austerity, and yoga is perfected in complete renunciation. Such renunciation, for the removal of suffering, leads one to liberation from misfortune. Now, hear of the six and the five organs of action: generation, speech, grasping, movement, and excretion—these are the organs through which action is performed. Thus, these eleven—six senses and five organs of action—were produced by the intellect and the mind. In the same way, touch, form, taste, and smell arise, giving rise to a threefold state in succession. Upon this foundation, the three Vedas are established, accomplishing all that must be done. The quality of sattva arises in the mind, sometimes from no apparent cause, sometimes from a discernible source. The signs of rajas can be seen, whether or not there is a clear cause, while the various qualities of tamas persist in their own way. Yet, one who is truly free is not tainted by the undesirable results of actions, just as a lotus leaf remains untouched by water. When such a person, liberated, abandons both pleasure and pain, he attains the highest state, free from all marks. When merit is exhausted, sin is gone, and the effects of bodily causes are destroyed—just as a spider, when its threads are spent, remains or departs as it chooses; just as a deer leaves behind its old antlers, or a serpent sheds its skin; just as a fish is abandoned when it falls into a pond, or a bird, by its own strength, descends—so too, when the liberated one abandons pleasure and pain, he attains the supreme, markless state.