When the palanquin-bearer set the king’s litter upon the ground, he explained with clarity how the body supports itself: the feet and shanks rest upon the earth, the thighs rise above the shanks, and above them lies the abdomen, which upholds all below. The chest, arms, and shoulders are positioned above the abdomen, and the palanquin itself rests upon the shoulders, so that its burden is carried there. Yet, the bearer continued, the body that you see seated in this palanquin—if you call it “you” or “I”—is, in truth, something else entirely. You, I, and all others, O king, are carried by the elements, and this assembly of beings, caught in the current of qualities, is destined to pass away. These qualities—sattva, rajas, and tamas—are governed by karma, and the karma accumulated through ignorance attaches itself to all living beings. But the self is pure, imperishable, peaceful, without qualities, and beyond nature itself. In this self, among all beings, there is neither growth nor decay. If there is neither increase nor decrease for the true self, O king, then on what basis do you say, “He is stout” or “He is lean”? Just as the palanquin rests upon the shoulders, and the feet, shanks, thighs, and abdomen support one another, so too is the burden borne by you. O king, this palanquin is not carried by you alone, but by many beings; it may be made from wood, from the trees, from houses, or even from the earth itself. When the distinction of the bearer arises from the natural order, O king, then that effort must be endured—how, then, can it be said to be my doing alone? This palanquin is made of matter, and so too is the collection of living beings; all this, whether belonging to you or to me, is supported only by a sense of possession. Having spoken thus, the wise one continued to carry the palanquin. But the king, moved by these words, quickly descended to the earth and grasped the bearer’s feet. “O, O! Release the palanquin and show me your favor, O twice-born one! Tell me, who are you, standing here in this mysterious form? Who are you, for what reason have you come, and why? Reveal all this, O wise one, for I am eager to hear from you.” The bearer replied, “Hear this, O king: it is not possible to say who I am. In every case, movement is undertaken for the sake of enjoyment. Pleasure and pain are experienced through the body and its faculties; arising from righteousness and unrighteousness, the living being obtains a body and so forth, in order to enjoy or suffer them. For every being, O protector of the earth, righteousness and unrighteousness are the cause of everything—so why do you ask about the cause? “There is no doubt that righteousness and unrighteousness are the root of all actions; and for the sake of enjoyment, the body is gained and then relinquished. As for your question—‘Who am I?’—this concerning the self cannot be expressed or even heard, though the desire to know it arises in me. “O Brahman, if one exists, then to say ‘I am he’—how can that not be spoken? In regard to the self, the phrase ‘I am’ is not faulty, O twice-born one. But to say ‘I am the word’ is faulty with respect to the self; knowledge of the self in the non-self, or the word itself, is a sign of delusion. “The tongue says ‘I am,’ O king, as do the teeth, lips, and palate; but none of these are truly ‘I,’ for all are merely instruments for the production of speech. By what cause does speech itself say ‘I am’? Even so, speech is not the self; thus, it is not proper to say so. “Since the body is a collection of distinct parts—head, hands, and so on—how can I apply the designation ‘I’ to any of these? If there is some other being apart from me, O best of kings, then it is proper to say ‘I am this one, and that is another.’ But when the one self is established in all bodies, then the statements ‘Who are you?’ and ‘Who am I?’ become meaningless. “You are the king, this is the palanquin, these are the bearers, and this is the road ahead; this world is yours, O king, but none of this is truly real. The palanquin is made from wood that comes from a tree—should it then be called a tree or wood? No one says, ‘The great king is riding a tree,’ nor do they say, ‘You are in the wood,’ when you are seated in the palanquin. The palanquin is a combination of wood, constructed and assembled; examine this, O best of kings, and then, O blessed one, the palanquin is with you. “In the same way, consider separately the parts of the umbrella and its spokes; where has the umbrella gone? This reasoning applies to you and to me as well. Man, woman, cow-born, horse, elephant, bird, tree—these are names given to bodies in the world, based on knowledge and the causes of action. A person is not a god, nor a man, nor an animal, nor a plant; these distinctions of bodily form, O king, are merely the results of actions. “That which is called ‘king’ in the world, or that which is of the nature of king and his retinue, or anything else, is not real—it is only a product of thought. But that which, even after a long time, does not acquire another name, and is not produced by transformation and the like—let that be, O king; what is that to you? “You are called the king of all people, the son of your father, the enemy of your foe, the husband of your wife, the father of your son—what, O king, should I call you? Are you this head? Or is your neck yours, as well as your abdomen? Are you your feet and the rest, or is this all yours, O king? You are established separately from all these limbs, O king! Become skilled in this inquiry: Who am I? “When the truth is thus determined, how can I say ‘I am this,’ O king, without first producing the means of expression?” Hearing these words, filled with the highest truth, the king bowed reverently and spoke to the sage.