As Śambara unleashed his thousand spells against Prahlāda, the swift-moving divine discus shielded the boy’s body, destroying every single enchantment hurled at him. Frustrated, the demon lord commanded the drying wind to swiftly bring the boy to ruin. Obeying this command, the wind entered Prahlāda—harsh and cold—seeking to dry out his body and inflict unbearable suffering. But Prahlāda, realizing the wind’s possession, turned inward and held the great Lord, the sustainer of the earth, firmly in his heart. With Janārdana dwelling within him, Prahlāda calmly drank in that terrifying wind. Janārdana, angered at the assault, destroyed the wind from within. With all the magical attacks exhausted and the wind vanquished, the wise Prahlāda returned to his teacher’s house. Day by day, the teacher instructed Prahlāda in the art of kingship, teaching him the treatise on policy composed by the sage Usanas for rulers. When the teacher judged that Prahlāda had mastered the text and was well-disciplined, he reported his progress to Prahlāda’s father, Hiraṇyakaśipu. The teacher said, “O lord of the Daityas, your son has mastered the treatise on policy. Prahlāda fully understands the essence of what was taught by Bhargava.” Hiraṇyakaśipu questioned his son: “Prahlāda, tell me—how should a king behave among friends and enemies? How should one act among those who are neutral in the three worlds? What is proper conduct with ministers, counselors, outsiders, insiders, spies, citizens, and all manner of people? Tell me the correct regulation of what should and should not be done, the securing of forts and forests, and the removal of threats. And whatever else you have studied, reveal it to me fully; I wish to know your mind.” At this, Prahlāda, adorned with humility, bowed at his father’s feet and, with joined hands, addressed the lord of the Daityas: “All that my teacher instructed, I have learned without doubt. Yet, though I have grasped it, it is not truly my own opinion. Conciliation, giving, division, and punishment—these means are taught for dealing with friends and others. But, father, I do not see these distinctions of friend and other; do not be angry with me. When nothing is truly to be accomplished, what purpose do these means serve, O mighty-armed? “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 everywhere; how then can one be my friend and another my enemy, and how can there be any distinction? “Therefore, let there be an end to these excessive and elaborate discussions about hostile undertakings, father; effort is meaningful only within ignorance. Knowledge and intellect arise only in ignorance—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 truly thinks about kingship or desires wealth; yet both come to men as destined. All people strive for greatness, yet prosperity does not arise from effort alone, but from fortune. Even among the dull, undiscerning, and cowardly, kingdoms are enjoyed by those without virtue, simply as fate decrees. “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—all are forms of the infinite Vishnu, appearing as if distinct. Knowing this, one should see the whole 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, is pleased; and when He is pleased, all suffering is destroyed.” Hearing these words, Hiraṇyakaśipu rose in anger from his splendid seat and struck his son on the chest with his foot. Burning with rage and indignation, he pressed his hand with his own, wishing to kill Prahlāda—as if he would crush the world itself. Hiraṇyakaśipu shouted, “O Vipracitti! O Rāhu! O Bala! Bind this wicked one firmly with strong serpent bonds and cast him into the great ocean—do not delay! Otherwise, all the worlds and the Daityas and Dānavas will follow the foolish mind of this evil-hearted one. Many times we have punished this wicked one, yet he still praises our enemy; for the wicked, only death is beneficial.” At their lord’s command, the Daityas acted swiftly. They bound Prahlāda with serpent bonds and cast him into the ocean. As Prahlāda entered the waters, the great ocean began to shake violently, surging and agitated in every direction. Seeing the entire earth being flooded by the great waters, Hiraṇyakaśipu, wise among the Daityas, spoke to his kin: “O Daityas, with all the mountains, block this wicked one here in the abode of Varuṇa, sealing every gap completely! Fire does not burn him, nor is he cut by weapons, nor destroyed by serpents, nor by wind, nor by poison, nor by spells.