Having listened with a pure mind to the words of the wise sages, Naciketa began to speak of the wondrous city of Dharmarāja, the Lord of Justice and the Departed. He described its vastness: the city stretches a thousand yojanas in breadth, and its length is twice that measure. Encircling this grand city is a boundary, itself twice as great, enclosing all within its embrace. Within, the city is crowded with splendid mansions and palatial buildings, each one adorned with magnificent towers that rise toward the sky. Many of these residences resemble the sacred peaks of Kailāsa, adding to the city’s divine grandeur. Lovely reservoirs, lotus-covered ponds, and sparkling lakes are scattered throughout, offering beauty and serenity. The city bustles with life—men and women throng its streets, elephants and horses move in stately processions, and all manner of living beings fill its expanse. In this excellent city of the King, everywhere there is activity: in some places, joyous singing and laughter ring out, while in others, sorrow and affliction weigh upon the hearts of the people. Some are seen dancing, others stand in stillness, and some are bound in confinement, each experiencing the results of their own actions. Both gross and subtle beings are present, their forms shaped by the deeds they have done. As Naciketa described these wonders, he confessed that his limbs grew weak and his mind felt bewildered, yet he resolved to speak faithfully of all he had seen and heard. The city is both seen and unseen, veiled in mystery, and is crowded with trees of every kind. Cool, clear, and fragrant waters flow through the city, and among these rivers, the foremost shines brilliantly, destroying all sins that come near. Along its banks, immortals delight in playful games within the water. Kinnaris, their bodies gracefully bent, sing sweetly, accompanied by serpents, adding to the enchantment of the place. Thousands of divine women are always present, their beauty and charm filling the city. Elsewhere, groves of trees are ever in bloom and heavy with fruit. In the waters, enchanting women, adorned with beautiful girdles and capable of assuming any form, frolic together with their beloveds, stirring the river in joyful play. The air is alive with the sounds of water instruments and the jingling of ornaments. This most auspicious and delightful river is known as Vaivasvatī. Its charm matches the beauty of its waters, which are always full, divine, and captivating. The river is adorned with the finest lotuses, called Rathāṅga, whose golden centers shine like molten gold. Its water is pure, fragrant, sweet, and clear—truly resembling nectar. Here, beautiful women, intoxicated with delight, play in ever-charming forms. The river is so sacred that even gods, ascetics rich in penance, and sages hold it worthy of worship. Many men have offered water there, and the river’s true essence is established through these offerings. Women always sing together along its banks, their melodious songs accompanied by the rhythm of instruments. Their delightful forms and enchanting music bring joy to the gods in heaven. In the palace groves, these women revel in endless enjoyment, never growing weary, no matter how much they indulge. At times, a sweet fragrance drifts through the air, filling the palace corridors and flourishing pathways with its scent. Elsewhere, others play with their beloveds, shining upon golden platforms made for their pleasure. The extent of the delight found in this city is beyond description, not even in many days could one recount it all. Thus concludes the sacred chapter describing the City of Dharmarāja in the cycle of existence, as told in the glorious Varāha Purāṇa. The son of the sage continued: This city, surrounded by a mighty wall and adorned with hundreds of resplendent palaces, appeared as if the very sky had been opened up, blazing with unearthly radiance. It was filled with the sounds of many instruments, and around it gleamed garlands of flames, encircling the city in a halo of light.