Prahlāda, standing before his father Hiraṇyakaśipu, spoke with clarity and reverence, “Father, knowledge and intellect arise only in ignorance; does not a child, in his innocence, mistake a firefly for a fire, O lord of the Asuras? True action is that which does not bind, and true knowledge is that which brings liberation. All other actions are mere toil, and all other knowledge is but skill in crafts. Thus, O greatly fortunate one, I have come to understand what is essence and what is not. With humility, I bow before you and speak these words. No one truly contemplates kingship or desires wealth for its own sake, yet both are attained by men as destined. All people strive for greatness, noble one, but prosperity does not arise from effort alone—it is fortune that dispenses it. Even among the dull, the undiscerning, and the cowardly, O lord, kingdoms are enjoyed by those without virtue, simply as a matter of fate. Therefore, one who desires great prosperity should strive in virtuous deeds, and one who seeks liberation should cultivate equanimity. All beings—gods, humans, animals, birds, trees, and reptiles—are but forms of the infinite Viṣṇu, appearing as if distinct. Knowing this, one should see the entire world, both moving and unmoving, as oneself, as Viṣṇu, the bearer of the universal form, just as all water is one. When this understanding dawns, the blessed, beginningless Supreme Lord, Achyuta, becomes 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 to crush the very world. He 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 child, yet he continues to praise our enemy; for the wicked, only death is beneficial.” The Daityas, swift and obedient to their lord, bound Prahlāda with serpent bonds and cast him into the ocean. As Prahlāda entered, the great ocean began to shake, surging and agitating in every direction. Seeing the earth being flooded by the mighty waters, Hiraṇyakaśipu, wise among the Daityas, addressed his followers: “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. He is not overcome by illusions, nor cast down, nor subdued by the elephants of the quarters; this child, whose mind is exceedingly wicked, is of no use alive. Therefore, let him remain in the midst of the waters, hemmed in by mountains, until a thousand years have passed; this evil-minded one will lose his life.” Obeying their king, the Daityas and Dānavas climbed upon mountains and constructed a vast embankment in the ocean, stretching for thousands of yojanas. Amidst this prison of mountains and waters, Prahlāda, with a single-pointed mind, praised the imperishable one at the time of the daily ritual. He prayed, “O lotus-eyed one, I bow to you; O supreme person, I bow to you; O soul of all worlds, I bow to you; O wielder of the sharp discus, I bow to you. Salutations to the god of the Vedas, benefactor of cows and Brahmins; salutations to Kṛṣṇa, the benefactor of the world, to Govinda, again and again. In the form of Brahmā you create the universe, in the form of Viṣṇu you preserve it, and again, in the form of Rudra, you dissolve it at the end of the age; salutations to you, the three-formed one. The gods, Yakṣas, Suras, Siddhas, Nāgas, Gandharvas, Kinnaras, Piśācas, Rākṣasas, humans, and also animals—birds, immobile beings, ants, reptiles, earth, water, fire, ether, air, sound, touch, and also taste—form, smell, mind, intellect, self, time, and qualities—all these, and their ultimate reality, O Acyuta, are indeed you. You are knowledge and ignorance, truth and untruth, poison and nectar; you are both action and renunciation, and the actions prescribed in the Vedas. You alone, O Viṣṇu, are the enjoyer of all actions and the instruments of action; whatever is the fruit of all actions, that too is you. In me, in others, in all beings, and in all worlds, O Lord, your pervasion is only indicated by your qualities of sovereignty. You are contemplated by yogis, you are worshipped by sacrificers; you alone are the enjoyer of offerings to gods and ancestors, bearing the forms of both. Your great form is established here as the universe, and then as the subtle world, O Lord; all forms and distinctions of beings are yours, and within them, the innermost self, exceedingly subtle. And beyond that subtlety, in what is imperceptible to the senses, is your supreme self; there is a form of yours, O Supreme Person, which is inconceivable—salutations to that. In all beings, in all selves, your power, O Lord of gods, is the eternal one, resting on qualities; salutations to her. She is beyond the reach of speech and mind, O Viṣṇu; she cannot be grasped by knowledge or ignorance—salutations to that supreme sovereign power. Om, salutations always to that blessed Vāsudeva, who is not separate from anything, and from whom nothing is separate. Salutations to that great soul, again and again; he who is not apprehended as either name or form, nor as a single entity.” Thus, even in the midst of the ocean, bound and encased by mountains, Prahlāda’s devotion shone forth, his heart unwavering in praise of the Supreme Lord.