Listen to the wisdom of the Upaniṣad, as it weaves together the mysteries of the self and the universe. Within the right eye dwells a person, whose being is mapped upon the sacred syllables: his head is 'bhūḥ', one head, one syllable; his arms are 'bhuvaḥ', two arms, two syllables; his supports are 'svaḥ', two supports, two syllables. The secret teaching of this person is 'aham'—the 'I'. Whoever truly knows this destroys and casts off evil. It is said, too, that lightning is Brahman, for it illumines the sky. Knowing lightning as Brahman, one is freed from evil, for lightning indeed is Brahman. This person is made of mind, and his radiance is truth. Deep within the heart, as rice or barley lies within its husk, so does this person dwell within the innermost self. He is the lord, ruler, and master of all, governing whatever exists—so it is for the one who knows this. One should meditate upon speech as a cow with four teats: svāhā, vaṣaṭ, hant, and svadhā. The gods draw nourishment from svāhā and vaṣaṭ, humans from hant, and the ancestors from svadhā. Her vital breath is the bull, and the mind is the calf. Within each person blazes the Vaiśvānara fire, by which food is cooked and digested. Its sound is heard when the ears are covered, but as one prepares to depart this world, that sound fades away. The highest austerity, practiced in solitude, leads one to conquer the supreme world—whether the body is consigned to the forest or to the flames after death. The knower of this truth conquers the highest world. At the time of departure, a person journeys to the wind. There, a space opens, like the hub of a chariot wheel, and through this, he ascends upward. He reaches the sun, where another space opens, like the opening of a drum, and through it, he ascends further. Then he comes to the moon, where a hollow opens like a kettledrum, and through it, he ascends yet further, arriving in a world free from sorrow and full of glory, where he dwells for endless years. Some declare that food is Brahman, but this is not so, for food decays without breath. Others say breath is Brahman, but breath dries up without food. In truth, these two—food and breath—unite and together attain the highest state. Prātṛda asked his father, "What good or harm can I do for one who knows this?" His father replied, "Do not speak so, Prātṛda. Who, having become one with these two, attains the highest state?" Therefore, it is said: all beings are established in food, and all delight in breath. Whoever knows this, all beings enter into and delight in him. The hymn (uktha) is breath, for breath lifts all things. The knower of the hymn stands firm, united with its world. The Yajus is breath, for breath joins all beings; thus, all beings are joined to the knower for his excellence. The Sāman is breath, for breath harmonizes all beings; thus, all beings are harmonized for his excellence. Sovereignty (kṣatra) too is breath, for breath protects sovereignty from decline. The knower of this attains the fullness of sovereignty and union with its world. Earth, atmosphere, and heaven—these three worlds—are eight syllables, just as one foot of the Gāyatrī is eight-syllabled. As far as these worlds extend, so far does the knower of this foot of the Gāyatrī reach. Likewise, Ṛc, Yajus, and Sāman—the threefold Veda—are eight syllables, forming another foot of the Gāyatrī; as far as the Veda extends, so far does the knower reach. Prāṇa, apāna, and vyāna—vital breaths—are eight syllables, forming yet another foot; as far as living beings extend, so far does the knower reach. The fourth, visible foot of the Gāyatrī is the supreme, radiant region above all. It is called visible because it is seen, and supreme because it shines above everything. Whoever knows this shines with glory and fame. The Gāyatrī is established in this fourth, supreme, visible realm; thus, it is established in truth. The eye is truth, for the eye indeed perceives what is true. Therefore, when two people dispute, one should trust the one who says, "I saw," over the one who says, "I heard." This truth is established in strength, which is breath; thus, strength is said to be greater than truth. In this way, the Gāyatrī is established in the self. Indeed, breath is the Gāyatrī, for the breaths dwell there. When one recites, it is the Gāyatrī that is recited, and breath protects the reciter. Some say the Sāvitrī is the Anuṣṭubh meter, and that speech is Anuṣṭubh, but one should not do so. Only the Gāyatrī should be recited, for even the greatest gifts cannot match even a single step of the Gāyatrī. If one were to receive the three worlds filled to the brim, that would be but her first step; knowledge equal to the three Vedas would be her second; as many living beings as exist would be her third; but her fourth, visible step, beyond darkness, is unattainable by any—how could anyone receive so much? The Gāyatrī is approached in many ways: she is one-footed, two-footed, three-footed, four-footed, and footless, for she cannot be reached by steps. One should offer salutations to the fourth, visible step, beyond darkness. For one whom one dislikes, one may wish, "May this one not attain desire," or, "May this one's desire remain unfulfilled for a month." Such a one, worshipping thus, does not prosper in desire. Or, for oneself, one may wish, "May I attain that." Once, Janaka, king of Videha, asked Budila, son of Aśvatarāśvi, "When you say the Gāyatrī has become an elephant, how does she carry?" Budila replied, "Her mouth, O king, is her face." Her mouth is indeed fire; just as fire consumes all offerings, so too, one who knows this, even if he commits many sins, consumes them all and becomes pure, cleansed, ageless, and immortal. The face of truth is hidden by a golden vessel. One prays, "O Pūṣan, uncover it for the vision of truth and righteousness! O Pūṣan, sole seer, Yama, Sun, child of Prajāpati, withdraw your rays and gather your light, so I may see your most blessed form. That person who is there—that am I. May this body return to ashes, may the breath become immortal air. O mind, remember! O mind, remember what has been done! O Agni, lead us by the good path to wealth, you who know all ways; remove from us crooked sin, and we shall offer you the highest reverence." Once, Vetaketu, son of Āruṇa, came to the assembly of the Pañcālas and saw Jaivali, son of Pravāhaṇa, performing his duties. Vetaketu greeted him, and Jaivali asked, "Are you instructed by your father?" "Yes," Vetaketu replied. Jaivali questioned him: "Do you know why, when creatures depart, they go in different directions?" "No," Vetaketu answered. "Do you know why they return to this world?" "No." "Do you know why, though many depart, the world is never filled?" "No." "Do you know whether, when an offering is made in the fire, the waters, having become a man's speech, rise up and speak?" "No." "Do you know the path of the gods or the path of the ancestors, by which, having done certain acts, one attains those paths?" Vetaketu admitted, "I have heard the words of the seer, but I did not understand what my father and the gods, mortals and immortals, said. Between these two, all the world moves—what is between father and mother. I do not know even one of these things." He sought permission to stay, but without being granted it, he departed. Returning to his father, he said, "Did you not teach me before?" "How so, wise one?" his father asked. Vetaketu replied, "A kṣatriya asked me five questions, and I did not know even one." He recited the questions. His father said, "So, you should know as I do; all I know, I have told you. Go there, and let us live as students." But his father insisted, "You should go yourself." So he went to Gautama, son of Pravāhaṇa Jaivali. There, he was welcomed with a seat, water for washing, and an offering. Gautama said, "A boon is granted to you." He replied, "Let this boon be as you have promised; tell me the words you spoke to the young man at the end." Gautama said, "Among the gods such boons are given—speak among men." He replied, "There are gifts of gold, cattle, horses, maidservants, and garments; but you, sir, are the most generous of the boundless. Therefore, I approach you with the proper offering, as those before have approached with words." After mentioning the offering, Gautama spoke: "Do not neglect us or your ancestors. As this knowledge was not previously given to any Brāhmaṇa, I will tell it to you. Who would refuse one who speaks thus?" He began: "This world, O Gautama, is a fire. The sun is its fuel, its rays the smoke, day is the flame, the moon is the ember, and the stars are the sparks. In this fire, the gods offer faith as an oblation, and from that offering, King Soma arises. Rain is a fire, O Gautama. The year is its fuel, clouds the smoke, lightning the flame, thunderbolts the embers, and thunderclaps the sparks. In this fire, the gods offer Soma as an oblation, and from that offering, rain is produced." Thus, the sacred teaching flows, revealing the unity of self and cosmos, the cycles of offering, ascent, and return, and the deep connection between the seen and the unseen, all for the one who truly knows.