Śrī Parāśara continued: Upon hearing Prahlāda’s words, Hiraṇyakaśipu was seized by furious anger. Rising abruptly from his magnificent throne, he struck his son’s chest with his foot. His rage and indignation burned so fiercely that he pressed his own hand, as if he wished to crush not only Prahlāda, but the very world itself. Then Hiraṇyakaśipu cried out, “O Vipracitti! O Rāhu! O Bala! Bind this wicked boy tightly with strong serpent bonds and throw him into the great ocean—do not delay!” He warned his followers that if Prahlāda’s rebellious mind was allowed to persist, all the worlds, along with the Daityas and Dānavas, would follow his foolish example. “We have punished him many times,” Hiraṇyakaśipu declared, “yet he continues to praise our enemy. For the truly wicked, only death is beneficial.” Obeying their lord’s command, the Daityas acted swiftly. They bound Prahlāda with serpent bonds and cast him into the vast ocean. As Prahlāda entered the waters, the great ocean began to tremble; waves surged and the waters were violently agitated in all directions. Witnessing the earth threatened by the flooding ocean, Hiraṇyakaśipu, wise among the Daityas, addressed his followers: “O Daityas, use all the mountains to block this wicked one within the abode of Varuṇa, sealing every gap completely!” He lamented that neither fire nor weapons could harm Prahlāda; serpents, wind, poison, and spells were all powerless against him. Illusions failed to overcome him, nor could the elephants of the quarters subdue him. “This child, whose mind is exceedingly wicked, is of no use alive,” Hiraṇyakaśipu concluded. “Let him remain in the midst of the waters, hemmed in by mountains, for a thousand years—surely, his life will end.” Following his command, the Daityas and Dānavas climbed upon mountains and constructed a mighty embankment within the ocean, stretching for thousands of yojanas. This embankment of mountains was praised by the wise Prahlāda, whose mind was steadfast, as he performed his daily ritual and addressed the imperishable Lord. With devotion, Prahlāda 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, 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.” He continued, “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 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, 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. To that great soul, whose incarnate forms are worshipped by the gods, though they do not see his supreme form—salutations to him. I bow to that supreme Lord, who, abiding within all, sees the auspicious and inauspicious, the witness of all, the universe itself. Salutations to that Viṣṇu, by whose power this world is diverse; he, the first of beings, worthy of meditation—may that imperishable one be gracious to me. May Hari, the support of all, in whom and by whom this imperishable, undecaying universe is woven and interlaced, be gracious to me. Om, salutations again and again to that Viṣṇu, in whom all exists, from whom all arises, who is the refuge of all.” Prahlāda then reflected, “By the all-pervasiveness of the infinite, I alone am established; all is from me, I am all, all abides in me, the eternal. I alone am the imperishable, eternal, the supreme self, the refuge of the self; I am called Brahman at the beginning, and at the end, the supreme person.” Thus, contemplating Viṣṇu with a pure mind, Prahlāda attained unity with him, regarding his own self as the infallible one. He forgot his individual self and knew nothing else, thinking only, “I alone am the imperishable, infinite, supreme self.” Through such contemplation, as his sins diminished and his inner being became pure, Viṣṇu, the infallible one, revealed himself to Prahlāda as knowledge itself.