Hearing the words spoken before, the mighty lord of the demons, Hiraṇyakaśipu, stood atop his lofty palace, his face darkening with anger. He turned to his demon attendants and commanded them with fury, “Cast this wicked child from the palace! Fling him a hundred yojanas away—let him fall upon the mountain’s summit and be shattered upon the rocks!” Obeying their king, the Daityas and Dānavas seized young Prahlāda and hurled him down from the palace heights. As he plummeted through the air, Prahlāda held Hari steadfast in his heart. But the earth herself, ever devoted to Keśava, the sustainer of the world, rose up to catch him. Filled with devotion, she received the boy gently, so that not a single bone was broken. When Hiraṇyakaśipu saw his son unharmed, his body unscathed, his anger did not abate. Turning to Śambara, the foremost among magicians, he said, “We are unable to kill this wicked-minded boy. You are skilled in magic—destroy him with your spells!” Śambara replied confidently, “I will indeed destroy him, O lord of the demons. Witness the power of my magic—here are a thousand spells, and even a hundred million more.” Intent on Prahlāda’s destruction, Śambara unleashed his magic upon the boy. Yet Prahlāda, with a mind composed and free from envy—even toward his would-be destroyer—remained unshaken, remembering Madhusūdana within his heart. For Prahlāda saw all with an equal vision, untouched by fear or hatred. At that moment, for Prahlāda’s protection, the supreme disc Sudarśana, encircled with flames, arrived, summoned by the Lord Himself. The swift-moving disc shielded Prahlāda’s body, destroying each of Śambara’s thousand spells as they came. Seeing his magic fail, the demon lord commanded, “Let the drying wind, by my order, bring this wicked one to destruction!” The wind, harsh and cold, entered Prahlāda, seeking to dry out his body and cause him great suffering. Realizing he had been possessed by this cruel wind, Prahlāda held the great Lord, the sustainer of the earth, ever more firmly in his heart. With Janārdana dwelling within him, Prahlāda drank in that terrifying wind, and Janārdana, enraged, brought the wind itself to destruction. With all magic exhausted and the wind defeated, the wise Prahlāda returned to his teacher’s house. Day by day, his teacher instructed him in the treatise on policy, composed by the sage Usanas for rulers—a guide to the fruits of kingship. When the teacher judged that Prahlāda had mastered the treatise and was disciplined, he went to Hiraṇyakaśipu and reported, “Your son, O lord of the Daityas, has mastered the treatise on policy; Prahlāda understands in essence what was taught by Bhargava.” Hiraṇyakaśipu then questioned his son: “How should a king behave among friends and among enemies? Prahlāda, how should one act among those neutral in the three worlds? What is the proper conduct with ministers, counselors, outsiders, insiders, spies, citizens, and those who are suspicious or otherwise? Tell me, Prahlāda, the proper regulation of what should and should not be done, the securing of forts and forests, and likewise the removal of thorns. And whatever else you have studied in full, tell me all of it as it is; I wish to know what is in your mind.” Prahlāda, adorned with humility, bowed at his father’s feet and, with hands joined, addressed the lord of the Daityas: “All that was instructed to me by the teacher, I have learned without doubt; but though I have grasped it, it is not truly my opinion. Conciliation, giving, division, and punishment—these means have all been taught for the accomplishment of friends and others. But, father, I do not see those friends and others; do not be angry. When there is nothing to be accomplished, what purpose do the means serve, O mighty-armed one? “Father, in the soul of all beings, in the lord of the universe, in the universe itself, in the supreme soul Govinda—how can there be talk of friend and enemy? That Lord Vishnu is present in you, in me, and elsewhere; therefore, how can one be my friend and another my enemy, and how can there be distinction? “Therefore, enough of these excessive and elaborate discussions about hostile undertakings, father; effort should be made, O noble one, only within ignorance. Knowledge and intellect arise only in ignorance, father. Does a child not mistake a firefly for a fire, O lord of the Asuras? “That action which does not bind is true action; that knowledge which liberates is true knowledge. Other actions are merely toil, and other knowledge is only skill in crafts. Thus, I have understood what is essence and what is not, O greatly fortunate one; listen as I bow and speak to you. “No one thinks about kingship or desires wealth; yet both are destined to be attained by men. All people, O noble one, strive for greatness; yet, even so, prosperity does not arise from effort alone, but from fortune. Even among the dull, the undiscerning, and the cowardly, O lord, kingdoms are enjoyed by those without virtue, as a matter of fate. “Therefore, one who desires great prosperity should strive in virtuous deeds; and one who seeks liberation should strive for equanimity. Gods, humans, animals, birds, trees, and reptiles—these are all forms of the infinite Vishnu, appearing as if distinct. Knowing this, one should see all the world, both moving and unmoving, as oneself—Vishnu, the bearer of the universal form, just as this water. “When this is understood, the blessed, beginningless Supreme Lord, Achyuta, becomes pleased; and when He is pleased, all suffering is destroyed.