Vasundharā, with deep curiosity in her heart, approached the Deva and said, “You always speak of this as my illusion, O Deva. I wish to know the meaning of this illusion, the supreme and most secret truth.” Hearing her earnest inquiry, the Deva smiled gently at Vasundharā and spoke with affection. “Why do you trouble yourself so much for what you will soon witness?” he asked. “O wide-eyed one, what more can I say to you about my illusion? Listen carefully, Vasundharā. When a land becomes arid and barren, that itself is my illusion, just as the moon waxes and wanes, growing and diminishing fortnight by fortnight. At the new moon, when the moon cannot be seen, that too is my illusion at play. When coolness arises unexpectedly in the heat of summer, know that this is my illusion. When the sun rises in the east at dawn, O beautiful one, this too is my illusion manifesting in the world. When a creature is conceived in the womb, O beautiful one, it is my illusion; as the soul enters the womb, it experiences pleasure and pain. And when it is born, it forgets all that came before—this is my supreme illusion. Through action, beings are led to different destinies—this, too, is my supreme illusion. Consider the body: the fingers, feet, arms, head, and waist; the ears, eyes, skull, forehead, and tongue—all these are shaped by my illusion. What is eaten and drunk by a person is digested by the fire within—this is also my doing. The senses—sound, touch, form, taste, and smell—each has its own place and form in every season, among both immobile and mobile beings. There are celestial waters above and terrestrial waters below, in which all things are established. When the rains come, the ponds and lakes are filled with abundant water. From the snowy peaks of the Himalayas, the river Mandākinī flows forth. The clouds draw up water from the salty ocean and carry it across the sky. Some creatures, stricken by disease, consume powerful medicinal herbs. Yet, even when medicine is given, sometimes a creature still meets its end. First, the embryo is formed; afterwards, the person is born. Then, eventually, the senses decline and perish—this, too, is the power of my illusion. Again and again, my illusion manifests, adorned with leaves and growth. By this power, I release nectar repeatedly into the world. I become Garuḍa, swift as thought, and carry myself by myself wherever I wish. Having created this great illusion, I perform sacrifices for the dwellers of heaven. By assuming the Angirasa illusion, I cause the gods themselves to perform sacrifice. Taking on the Varuṇa illusion, I protect the vast and mighty ocean. With the illusion of Kubera, I guard the world’s wealth. Assuming the Śākra illusion, I slew the mighty Vṛtra. By my power, I fashioned Meru out of illusion and carry the sun across the heavens. As the submarine fire, I drink up the waters of the ocean. If people wonder, ‘Where does that water remain?’—by my illusion, it persists as medicinal plants in the forests. Through royal illusion, I protect the earth. Entering all beings, O Earth, I create illusion in the world. Having fashioned an illusory, radiant form, I fill the entire universe with my presence. Thus, Vasundharā, all that you see and experience, all the mysteries and wonders of creation, are woven by the supreme power of my illusion.