Hear now the subtle wisdom as it was spoken. Movement upward is deemed sāttvika, pure and luminous; downward is called tāmasa, dark and inert; and that which moves between is rājasika, restless and active. Within this world, the five subtle elements and the five gross elements are counted, along with the five organs of knowledge and the five organs of action. To these are added four: the primal substance (prakṛti), intellect (buddhi), ego (ahaṅkāra), and mind (manas). Together, these comprise the unmanifest and its modifications. When these remain in their causal, undifferentiated state, they are called "unmanifest"; but when they become effects—like a pot or a body—they are called "manifest." Just as a pot is not truly separate from the clay from which it is shaped, so too the manifest world, including the body, is not entirely distinct from the unmanifest source. Thus, the unmanifest alone is the single cause of all; the body and the senses are merely its supports and instruments, and all experiences belong to it—there is nothing apart from this. What real existence could there be for the "self," apart from intellect, senses, and body? And yet, there is indeed some distinction of the self from these, for the all-pervading one; but this distinction is exceedingly subtle and hard to grasp. The wise do not equate the self with intellect, senses, or body, for memory, knowledge, and other faculties are uncertain and last only as long as bodily awareness persists. Therefore, that which is the inner witness of all remembered and experienced things, and the field of all knowables, is called the "Inner Controller" in the Vedas and Vedānta. He pervades all things, everywhere, abiding eternally; yet, even so, he is not clearly seen by anyone. He cannot be grasped by the eye, nor by any of the senses. He is neither woman nor man, nor neuter; he is not above, nor across, nor below, nor from anywhere at all. Without a body, yet present in all bodies, moving and unmoving, imperishable—the wise perceive him always through inner reflection. Why speak at length? The person is distinct from the body; those who fail to see this distinction have a mistaken view. This body, said to belong to the person, is impure, powerless, subject to pain, and impermanent; it is not the true self. Joined with the seed of misfortune, the person becomes happy, unhappy, or deluded, according to his own actions. Just as a field watered by water produces a sprout, so too, action moistened by ignorance gives rise to the body. Abodes of extreme happiness and deaths that are final—both those yet to come and those past—his bodies are thousands in number. Coming and going, when bodies are worn out, the embodied one does not attain any permanent abode anywhere. Covered and separated by bodies, he is perceived like the moon’s disk in the sky, veiled by shifting masses of clouds. Here, the activity of the self is seen as diverse due to the differences of many bodies, just as in the enclosure of a chessboard, the movement of a piece is observed. No one belongs to another, nor does anyone belong to anyone else; this meeting with wives, sons, and relatives is only a chance encounter. Just as one piece of wood meets another in the vast ocean, and after meeting, they part again—so too is the gathering of beings. One sees that body, but that body does not see; someone else sees both, but those two do not see him. From Brahmā down to the unmoving, all are called cattle; this is the illustration given for all beings. Bound by fetters, experiencing pleasure and pain, the being is called "cattle," serving as an instrument for the Lord’s play—so say the wise. This ignorant creature, powerless over its own happiness and suffering, moves to heaven or to hell, driven by the Lord’s will. Hearing these words of the wind, the sages, their minds delighted, bowed to Vāyu, the expert in the Śaiva doctrine, and spoke: "This one is called 'cattle,' and that which is called 'fetters'—who is the distinct master over these two? Who is he?" There is someone, the abode of endless and delightful qualities, the Lord, creator of the universe, who frees the cattle from their fetters. Without him, how could this creation of the universe exist? For both the cattle and the fetters are insentient and ignorant. Whatever is insentient, from primal matter down to the atom, is seen to act only when guided by an intelligent cause. The world, being an effect, depends on a doer and is composite; therefore, the role of doer belongs to the Lord, not to the cattle or the fetters. Even the action of the cattle occurs only through the prompting of the Lord, just as a blind person’s movement depends on another’s guidance. When one recognizes the self as distinct from the prompter, and is thus favored by him, then one becomes fit for immortality. There is, in truth, a supreme state for the cattle, the fetters, and the Lord; knowing this, the knower of Brahman becomes freed from rebirth. This pair—perishable and imperishable, manifest and unmanifest—are both united; the Lord, the liberator of the universe, sustains all. The enjoyer, the enjoyed, and the prompter—these three are to be understood; beyond this, nothing else is to be known by those who understand. Just as oil is hidden within sesame seeds, clarified butter is within curds, water pervades a stream, and fire is latent in wood, so too is the Lord present within all, subtle and all-pervading.