The wind, that mighty force, upholds the waters drawn from the four great oceans. Gathering the clouds, he offers them to Parjanya, the lord of rain. Through his power, the clouds are brought together in many wondrous ways, becoming the vast, blue masses that roam the sky. It is he who carries the chariots of the gods through the heavens, guiding their celestial journeys. With swift strength, he causes the sap to flow within the trees, bringing life to all that grows. In his rushing currents, the divine waters themselves traverse the sky. Even the sun, with its single, all-penetrating ray, can be checked by him when obstructed from afar. From him, Soma—the celestial nectar and treasury of immortality—is replenished. At the appointed time, he withdraws the life-breath from all living beings, as ordained by the cosmic order. This is all observed by one who is rightly disciplined, whose intellect is calm through constant self-restraint. Encountering such a one, the winds themselves swiftly reach the ends of all directions. And when rain overcomes the land, it is by his command that the waters are driven back. These, indeed, are the Maruts, sons of Diti—truly wondrous in all their deeds. Yet, another marvel is spoken of: the supreme mountain itself is stirred and shaken by the breath of Viṣṇu, when the wind is impelled with great force. For this reason, those who know Brahman refrain from reciting the Veda when the wind is too strong, honoring the sacredness of the moment. Having spoken thus, the noble son of Parāśara paused. When Vyāsa departed to bathe, Śuka, best among those who know Brahman, was seen by the sage, deeply absorbed in self-study. Rising, the sage honored Śuka, for the son of Kṛṣṇa-Dvaipāyana is regarded as a son of Brahmā himself. With reverence, he asked, “O illustrious son of Vyāsa, radiant in splendor, what is it that you are engaged in? By some great merit, I have obtained your audience. Therefore, please, tell me how I may attain that supreme knowledge.” He continued, “There is no suffering equal to attachment, nor happiness equal to renunciation. Good conduct and noble behavior—this alone is the highest good. Mere association is not sufficient for liberation from suffering; indeed, association itself brings sorrow. Enveloped in the net of delusion, one experiences suffering both in this life and the next. One who desires the highest good must act, for ignorance and desire ever strive to obstruct the path to the highest good. Through knowledge, whether in honor or dishonor, one should discern oneself with clarity. Self-knowledge is the supreme knowledge, and truth is the highest benefit. Here, the senses, governed by the self, move among their objects. Among beings who are of the self and those who are not, both together and apart, one should always avoid unnecessary seeing, touching, and speaking. One should not harm any creature; rather, act with friendship toward all beings. Freedom from possessions, complete contentment, absence of expectation, and unwavering steadiness—these are to be cultivated. Abandoning all possessions, become one who has conquered the senses, dear one. Those without expectation do not grieve; one should renounce even expectation from oneself. With constant austerity, self-control, and restraint, the sage disciplines himself—remaining unattached to the qualities of nature, always delighting in solitude. Even if destitute, the sage finds joy among beings who are themselves delighted by opposites, for he is anchored in the highest wisdom and peace.