If a person, lacking discernment, finds delight in their own body—this body made of flesh, blood, pus, veins, urine, sinews, marrow, and bones—then such a one would just as easily find joy in the torments of hell. People often believe that relief from fire comes with cold, that thirst is quenched by water, and hunger by food, and they imagine these things to be the source of happiness. But, in truth, it is quite the opposite. O sons of the Daityas! As long as one remains attached to worldly things, he brings suffering upon his own mind. Each beloved connection that a living being forms in his heart becomes another arrow of sorrow piercing him. Wherever one’s mind is fixed—on any object or relationship in the home—there, destruction, burning, and loss will surely dwell. In every birth, great suffering arises, and the same is true at death, in the torments of Yama, and in the painful transitions through the womb. Even the faintest trace of happiness in the womb is only guessed at; if you think that is happiness, then truly, this whole world must be filled with suffering. Thus, in this ocean of existence, which is the very abode of great pain, you speak truly: Viṣṇu alone is the supreme refuge. We are but children and do not understand that the soul within the body is eternal, while old age, youth, and birth are merely properties of the body, not of the true self. When I was a child, I thought, “When I am young, I will strive for good.” When I was young, I said, “I will do what is beneficial for myself when I am old.” But by the time old age arrives, all actions are beyond my reach. What can I do then, dull-minded as I am, since I did not act while I was able? Thus, a person whose mind is always distracted by vain hopes never turns toward what is truly good, just as one who is constantly thirsty is never satisfied. In childhood, one is attached to play; in youth, drawn to sense pleasures; then, led by ignorance and lack of strength, old age suddenly arrives. Therefore, one who is wise should strive for the good at all times, even in childhood, unbound by the limitations of age. This much I have now told you; if you understand, know that it is true. For my own satisfaction, O Viṣṇus, remember Him who is the giver of both bondage and liberation. What effort is there in remembering Him, whose remembrance brings all auspiciousness? The destruction of sin comes to those who remember Him without ceasing. May your minds be filled with friendship, day and night, towards Him who dwells in all beings; in this way, you will cast off all suffering. Who, being wise, grieves for those beings afflicted by the threefold miseries in this world? Even now, though I am weak, I should rejoice in the good of others, for sorrow only brings loss. If beings, bound by enmity, cause suffering, the wise know that those overwhelmed by such delusion are truly to be pitied. These various opinions of the Daityas, arising from different perspectives, have been described by me. Having accepted this, now hear my summary: This entire universe is the expansion of Viṣṇu, who pervades all beings; therefore, the wise should see it as non-different from themselves. Thus, both you and we should abandon the demonic disposition and strive together for supreme bliss. That which is truly real cannot be destroyed by fire, nor by the sun, nor the moon, nor the wind, nor by rain or Varuṇa, nor by Siddhas or Rākṣasas, nor by Yakṣas, nor by the lords of the Daityas, nor by serpents, Kinnaras, humans, animals, faults, or anything arising from oneself. Diseases like fever, eye troubles, diarrhea, spleen disorders, abdominal tumors, and impurities such as envy, dullness, coldness, or those born from passion and greed—all these bring about decline. But by no other means can the pure self be carried away, for it is absolutely pure; one who abandons it, without Keśava established in the heart, acquires impurity. Do not take delight in what is insubstantial, nor in the ever-changing substantial. I declare this earnestly: everywhere, O Daityas, cultivate equanimity, for equanimity is the true worship of the Imperishable One. When He is pleased, what can be unattainable here—whether righteousness, wealth, or desire? Those who take refuge under the supreme tree of Brahman will surely obtain the great, endless fruit. Now, seeing such acts of charity performed by Prahlāda, and out of fear of the lord of the Daityas, some went and reported these actions. The Daitya king, having quickly summoned the cooks, spoke as follows: “O cooks, this son of mine, and others too, are of wicked mind. He is a corrupt guide, evil—let him be killed without delay. Let deadly poison, hālāhala, be mixed into all his food; let it be done secretly, and let him be killed without hesitation.” The cooks did exactly as they were ordered by Prahlāda’s father, giving the great-souled boy poison in his food. That dreadful hālāhala poison, which brings endless fever, was mixed into his meal, and, O Maitreya, Prahlāda ate it. Yet, having eaten the poisoned food, Prahlāda remained unchanged, his mind undisturbed; by the power of the Infinite, he rendered that poison powerless. When those who had administered the poison saw that it had been digested without effect, they, terrified with fear, approached the lord of the Daityas, bowed down, and reported: “O king of the Daityas! The poison we gave was extremely deadly, yet your son Prahlāda has digested it along with his food.” The king, enraged, said, “Hurry, hurry, O priests of the Daityas! Quickly devise some means for his destruction, do not delay.” Then, approaching Prahlāda, who was endowed with humility, they addressed him: “Born in the renowned lineage of Brahmā, O long-lived one! You are the son of the Daitya king Hiraṇyakaśipu. What need is there for gods, or for the Infinite, or for anything else for you? Your father is lord of all the worlds, and you too will become so.” Thus, the story unfolds—revealing Prahlāda’s unwavering devotion, the futility of worldly attachments, and the supreme refuge that is Viṣṇu.