In the ancient wisdom of the Śukla Yajur Veda, the narrative begins with an account of the eight deformed beings—those excessively tall or short, stout or thin, white or black, bald or hairy. These are not classified as Śūdras or Brāhmaṇas, but are said to be of Prajāpati, the creative lord. Likewise, the Māgadha, the courtesan, the gambler, and the impotent are described as belonging to Prajāpati, outside the bounds of traditional caste. The story then turns to the cosmic Person, the Purusha, whose thousand heads, eyes, and feet stretch across the earth, standing above it by ten fingers’ breadth. All that has been and all that will be is encompassed by this Person, who is the lord of immortality, sustained by food. Such is his greatness, yet the Purusha is even greater than what can be described. All living beings form but a quarter of him; three quarters are immortal, dwelling in heaven. Three quarters of the Purusha rose upwards, while one quarter manifested here again, spreading out in all directions—into what eats and what does not eat. From him was born Virāj, and from Virāj, the Purusha. Once born, he extended beyond the earth, behind and in front. From the complete sacrifice offered, clarified butter was gathered, and from it animals were created—those of the air, the forest, and the village. From that sacrifice, the Ṛc and Sāman hymns came forth, as did the meters and the Yajus. Horses and all animals with two rows of teeth were born from it; cows, goats, and sheep also emerged. The gods, Sādhyas, and seers sprinkled that sacrifice upon sacred grass, offering the Purusha born at the beginning. With this, they themselves performed sacrifice. When they divided the Purusha, they wondered how many portions were made. What became his mouth, his arms, his thighs, and his feet? The mouth became the Brahman, the arms the Kshatriya, the thighs the Vaishya, and from his feet arose the Shudra. From his mind, the moon was born; from his eyes, the sun; from his ears, the wind and breath; from his mouth, fire. From his navel, the atmosphere came forth; from his head, the heavens; from his feet, the earth; from his ears, the directions. Thus, the worlds were arranged. When the gods offered the Purusha as sacrifice, spring served as clarified butter, summer as fuel, autumn as the oblation. Seven sticks enclosed the altar, and thrice seven kindling sticks were prepared. The gods bound the Purusha as the sacrificial animal. Through sacrifice, the gods sacrificed the sacrifice itself; these were their first duties. They attained the heights of heaven, where the earlier Sādhyas and gods reside. From the waters, the essence of earth was gathered, and from that, the all-creator arose at the beginning. Tvashtar shaped his form, which became the divinity among mortals. The narrator declares: “I have known this great Purusha, radiant like the sun, beyond darkness. Knowing him alone, one transcends death; there is no other path for liberation.” Prajapati moves within the womb, unborn yet born in many ways. The wise perceive his source; in him, all worlds rest. He shines among the gods, is their priest, and was born before them. Homage is given to the radiant Brahman. The gods, generating the Brahman radiance at the beginning, declared: “Whoever knows this as Brahman, the gods are under his control.” Sri and Lakshmi are his wives; day and night are at his sides; the stars form his body; the Ashvins are his mouth. The prayer is offered: “May you grant us nourishment and mastery over all worlds.” This Purusha is fire, the sun, the wind, the moon, the bright one, Brahman, the waters, and Prajapati. All moments and flashes of lightning were born from him. None can grasp him above, across, or in the middle. He has no likeness; his name is great glory. He is called Hiraṇyagarbha. His command is, “Do not harm me.” He is the one from whom nothing is born. This god moves in all directions, born before all, within the womb, born and yet to be born, facing all with faces everywhere. Before him, nothing was born; he became all the worlds. Prajapati, striving with offspring, associates with three lights and sixteen forms. By him, the mighty heaven and firm earth are supported, the sky is held aloft, and the vault of space established. He moves in the atmosphere as sovereign of the shining dust. The query arises: To which god shall we offer our oblation? He whom heaven and earth, trembling, upheld by his support, beheld with their minds—where the sun rises and shines forth—he is the waters, vast and encompassing. The seer beholds that which is hidden in the cave, where all becomes united in a single nest. Within him, all moves together and apart; he is woven and interwoven throughout all beings. Let the wise Gandharva, who knows the immortal, declare that abode concealed in the cave. Three steps are set within the cave; whoever knows them becomes the ancestor of his father. He is our kinsman, creator, and arranger; he knows all abodes and worlds—where the gods, seeking immortality, ascended to the third abode. Having encompassed all beings, worlds, directions, and quarters, he approached the primal birth of truth; by his own self, he entered into his own self. He encompassed heaven and earth, all worlds, directions, and the sky; he examined the stretched thread of truth, saw it, became it, and was it. To the wondrous, beloved lord of the seat, dear to Indra and desired by all, the narrator seeks union with wisdom, offering svāhā. That wisdom revered by the hosts of gods and ancestors—by that wisdom, O Agni, make me wise today. Svāhā. May Varuṇa, Agni, Prajāpati, Indra, Vāyu, and Dhātṛ grant wisdom; may Brāhma and Kṣatra attain prosperity for me; may the gods place the highest prosperity in me. To her, to you, svāhā. Of this ageless, tamed, ruddered one, the shining flames are Agnis—pure, white-tipped, roaring, consuming wood—like winds, like Somas. Thus, the sacred narrative flows, revealing the cosmic unity and divine origins of all beings, worlds, and wisdom, all woven into the eternal Purusha.