In that wondrous realm, there were serene lakes adorned with a profusion of lotuses and water-lilies, their surfaces alive with the gentle bustle of many birds. The air was filled with the soft, melodious hum of bees settled upon the lotus leaves, their buzzing weaving manifold tunes. Along the banks of these lakes stood magnificent houses, their forms reminiscent of the lofty peaks of Kailāsa, decorated with precious lotuses. These splendid dwellings were inhabited by the blessed and revered by twice-born sages and even the gods themselves. The lotuses, heavy with the weight of bees, swayed gracefully in the gentle breeze. In the clear waters, twice-born sages with sweet voices recited wondrous mantras from the Vedas, their chants resonating through the tranquil air. Their bodies were adorned with garlands of white lotuses, and their upper garments were of the finest cloth. Flocks of birds fluttered about, and in many such lakes, these sages performed the ancient rites of sacrifice, preserving the sacred traditions. As I wandered among these enchanting lakes, I beheld many groups of celestial maidens, as well as daughters of the Vidyādharas, who had come to bathe in those sacred waters. Then, continuing my journey, O best of kings, I came upon another beautiful lake, its waters pure and inviting. On its bank, just as before, I saw a hut, humble yet radiant. Entering the hut, I saw an ascetic standing calmly within. I approached him and offered my respects. As I did so, he smiled, his presence radiating immeasurable power, and addressed me: “O best of Brahmins, do you not recognize me, though you have seen me before? Why do you look upon this world as if you were deluded? This world, which even the gods have not seen, has been revealed to you by me, O best of the twice-born, for your sake and out of affection.” He continued, “Behold, O great sage, the wealth of my world: rivers flowing with curds and milk, lakes filled with clarified butter. See the pillars of the houses, made of gold and jewels, the ground studded with gems and shining like padmarāga stones, abundant with pārijāta flowers, and frequented by yakṣas and kinnaras.” Hearing these words, my heart was filled with wonder, and I questioned him further: “O venerable one, your world is the foremost among all worlds. I have seen the realms of Brahmā, Indra, and others, yet this world appears to me as something entirely new—endowed with wealth, splendor, power, and heaps of palace-jewels. With sacred lakes and pure pools, especially those adorned with lotuses, your world astonishes me. How has such a world come to be, and how are you established here in this way? Tell me the reason for this, and who you are, O foremost of sages. How did I see you, O great sage, on the shore of a lake in the Ilāvṛta region? That lake, that hut—what is your place in this world filled with golden palaces?” Thus addressed, the eminent sage spoke to me as things had truly happened. “I am Nārāyaṇa, the eternal god in the form of water, by whom this entire universe—the three worlds and all that moves and does not move—is pervaded. That very form of the supreme god, Parameṣṭhin, which you have seen—I am he, called Varuṇa, but truly the supreme Nārāyaṇa himself. In former times, you worshipped me for seven births; therefore, even at the destruction of the three worlds, you alone were chosen by me.” When he had spoken thus, I, overwhelmed and my eyes heavy with sleep, fell to the earth, but in that very moment I rose again. O King, as I looked, I saw that sage and that city; then, by my own self, I beheld myself standing on the summit of Mount Meru. I saw the seven oceans, the principal mountain ranges, and the earth with its seven continents, O ruler of men. Even today, O virtuous one, I remain meditating on that supreme world, absorbed in the thought, “When will I attain that realm?” Thus, O King, I have told you the wondrous story concerning the Supreme Lord and what happened to my body. What else do you wish to hear? Then Bhadrāśva inquired, “O venerable one, what did you do, having not yet seen that world? Was it a vow, austerity, or righteousness, O sage, undertaken to attain it? For, without worshipping Hari with devotion, what wise person would desire worlds? When Hari is worshipped, all worlds are as if in the palm of one’s hand.” Thinking thus, O King, I worshipped the eternal Viṣṇu for a hundred years with sacrifices rich in gifts. Then, after a long time, O delight of kings, as I was performing sacrifice to Janārdana, the Lord of gods and the embodiment of sacrifice, the gods along with Indra were summoned and arrived together. As long as the gods with Indra stood in their respective places, at that very moment the Lord bearing the bull-banner arrived there. The great god, the three-eyed, blue and red Mahādeva, Virūpākṣa, also stood there in his fierce form as the Supreme Lord. Seeing all the assembled gods, sages, and great serpents, the blessed Sanatkumāra, born from the lotus, arrived as well. That great yogi, who knows past, present, and future, stood in a celestial chariot the size of a speck of dust, shining like the sun. Having arrived, the great sage bowed his head to Rudra; I too, having bowed, stood near the wielder of the trident. Seeing those gods, and the sages like Nārada, Sanatkumāra, and Rudra all assembled, a thought arose in my mind: “O best of kings, who among these is to be worshipped by you in sacrifice, and who is the most excellent? By pleasing whom would all these, including Rudra, be satisfied?” Having thus considered, O King, I asked Rudra, “O sinless one, among you excellent gods, who is to be worshipped here in this sacrifice?” When I had spoken thus, Rudra addressed me in the assembly of the gods: “Let all the gods, as well as the pure devarṣis and the renowned brahmarṣis, listen to my words; and you too, Agastya of great wisdom, hear what I say.