Let us now enter the sacred teaching of the Maitrāyaṇī Upaniṣad, a revered scripture of the Sāmaveda. It opens with a vision of the ultimate truth: by awakening to the sole reality of Brahman, and with devotion born from deep detachment, the sages reach the supreme state, a realm of triple radiance. The invocation resounds: “Om. May my limbs, speech, breath, eyes, ears, strength, and all my senses prosper. May the fullness of Brahman, as revealed in the Upaniṣads, abide within me. May I never deny Brahman, nor may Brahman deny me. May there be no denial, may there be no denial. May all the virtues spoken of in the Upaniṣads abide in me, abide in me. Om. Peace, peace, peace.” The text then honors the lineage of Upaniṣads—Maitrāyaṇī, Kauṣitakī, Bṛhajjābāla, Tāpanī, Kālāgnirudra, Maitreyī, Subāla, Kṣuramantrikā—before turning to the story. Once, there lived a king named Bṛhadratha. In time, he entrusted his kingdom to his eldest son, for he recognized the body’s impermanence and was filled with dispassion. Renouncing worldly life, he withdrew to the forest, where he practiced severe austerities—standing with arms raised, gazing at the sun—for a thousand days. At the end of this long penance, a radiant sage appeared before him, shining like fire without smoke: Bhagavān Śākāyanya, knower of the Self. Śākāyanya called to the king, “Arise, arise, choose a boon!” The king bowed low and replied, “O Lord, I do not know the Self, nor the truth. We wish to hear it from you. Please teach us. As you promised before, ask me not about the impossible, nor about the desires of the Ikṣvākus. Grant me other boons.” As Śākāyanya touched his feet, the king recited a heartfelt verse: “O Lord, this body—made of bone, skin, sinew, marrow, flesh, semen, blood, phlegm, tears, sweat, excrement, urine, wind, bile, and phlegm—is but a foul and insubstantial mass. What pleasure can there be in sensual enjoyments within it? This body is afflicted by desire, anger, greed, fear, poison, envy, separation from the desired, union with the undesired, hunger, thirst, old age, death, disease, and sorrow. What pleasure can there be in sensual enjoyments? Moreover, all things are perishable. Just as gnats and mosquitoes perish like blades of grass, everything that is born is destined for destruction. What of those others—the mighty archers, the universal emperors—Sudyumna, Bhūridyumna, Indradyumna, Kuvalayāśva, Yauvanāśva, Vaddhīya, Śvāśvapati, Śaśabindu, Hariścandra, Ambarīṣa, Naukta, Svarāṭ, Yayāti, Nara, Ayukṣa, Senottha, Marutta, Bharata, and many more—who, though surrounded by their kin, abandoned immense wealth and departed from this world? And what of the Gandharvas, Asuras, Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, hosts of spirits, Piśācas, serpents, and even the planets, whose dissolution we also witness? What of the drying up of great oceans, the falling of mountains, the shifting of the Pole Star, the breaking of the bonds of wind, the uprooting of trees, the submergence of the earth, and the displacement of the gods? In a world of such change, where one returns again and again, saying ‘I am this,’ what pleasure can there be in sensual enjoyments? I see myself, like a frog in a blind well, repeatedly immersed in this world. Lord, you are our refuge, you are our refuge.” Thus ended the first chapter. Śākāyanya, well pleased, addressed the king: “Great King Bṛhadratha, banner and chief of the Ikṣvāku line, you have fulfilled your purpose and are renowned as Marut. Which, O Lord, is the Self to be described?” he asked. Śākāyanya replied, “That which, rising upward by the external support, is sometimes afflicted, sometimes untroubled, and dispels darkness—this is the Self. And that which, serene, rising from this body, attains the supreme light and manifests in its own form—this too is the Self. This is the immortal, the fearless; this is Brahman. Now, O King, this knowledge of Brahman, the essence of all the Upaniṣads, was explained to us by Bhagavān Maitreya. I shall tell it to you. There are those pure souls, blazing with energy, their seed directed upward, known as the Vālakhilyas. They approached Prajāpati and asked, ‘Lord, this body is like a cart, insentient. Whose is the greatness, beyond the senses, by which it is made sentient? Who is its impeller? Tell us, Lord.’ Prajāpati replied, ‘That which is heard above speech is the pure, purified, void, peaceful prāṇa, the breath. It is without lord, infinite, undecaying, firm, eternal, unborn, independent, abiding in its own greatness. By this, the body is established as sentient, and this is its impeller.’ They asked, ‘Lord, how does this, being such, establish and impel the body as sentient, though itself without desire?’ He answered, ‘This is subtle, ungraspable, invisible, called the Person. With intention, it revolves here, and by a part, as in deep sleep, it awakens with intention. That part of it, which is pure consciousness in each person, the knower of the field, marked by resolve, determination, and ego, is Prajāpati, the all-seer. By this consciousness, the body is established as sentient, and this is its impeller.’ They asked, ‘How does such a one function by a part?’ Prajāpati explained, ‘In the beginning, Prajāpati alone existed. He was not content. He contemplated himself and created many beings. These, though awakened from himself, were without breath, standing like pillars. He saw this and was not content. He thought, “To awaken them, I will enter within.” So, making himself like wind, he entered within. He did not enter alone; dividing himself fivefold, he is called prāṇa, apāna, samāna, udāna, and vyāna. Prāṇa rises upward; apāna moves downward; samāna holds the gross food in apāna and distributes the undesirable equally in each limb; udāna expels what is eaten and drunk, and what is swallowed; vyāna pervades all the veins. When prāṇa and apāna are in a subtle, internal state, there is warmth between them, like the warmth of a month. That person—who is the person—is the fire Vaiśvānara. Elsewhere too, it is said: this fire Vaiśvānara is the person within, by whom food is cooked and digested. The sound of this is what one hears when the ears are closed. When one is about to depart, this sound is not heard. Thus, having divided himself fivefold, he is placed in the cave, made of mind, with the body as breath, of many forms, the Self of true resolve. Dwelling within the heart, when he finds no purpose, he thinks of other purposes. Then, breaking through his own walls, he rises up and, by five rays, enjoys the objects—these rays are the organs of knowledge, the organs of action are his horses, the body is the chariot, the mind is the charioteer. By the goad of nature, this body, like a wheel, revolves. When dead, this body is no longer established as sentient, nor is it impelled. This, indeed, is the Self—seemingly led by the results of white and black actions, moving in each body, yet, due to its unmanifest, subtle, invisible, and unattached nature, it is not established, is not an agent, yet appears as if it were. This is pure, firm, unmoving, untouched, undisturbed, without desire, established as a witness, enjoying its own conduct, veiled by the garment of qualities, and thus remains hidden.” Thus ended the second section. The seekers then asked, “Revered one, since you reveal the greatness of this self, who else is this self? Who is this, overcome by the fruits of actions, white and black, who attains good and bad births, who, subdued by dualities, wanders, going downward or upward? Which is this?” Śākāyanya replied, “Indeed, there is another, a different elemental self, who, being overcome by the fruits of actions, white and black, attains good and bad births, who, subdued by dualities, wanders, going downward or upward. The five subtle elements are called ‘elements’; the five great elements are also called ‘elements’; and their aggregate is called ‘body.’ The body is the elemental self, and it has a self, like a drop in a lotus. This is overcome by the qualities of nature; deluded, it does not see the lord, the blessed one, the creator, established in the self. Satisfied by the multitude of qualities, made impure, unstable, restless, greedy, desirous, distracted, it attains egotism, thinking, ‘I am this, this is mine.’ Thus, it binds itself with its own self, like a bird in a net, being overcome by the fruits of actions, wandering without result. Elsewhere it is said: The doer is this elemental self, acting through the instruments, the inner person as the agent. Just as a lump of iron, when struck by agents, is overcome and becomes manifold, so too, the elemental self, overcome by the inner person and struck by qualities, becomes manifold. That which is transformed into eighty-four lakh species by the three qualities is the elemental self, and this is the form of manifoldness. These qualities, impelled by the person, revolve like a wheel around its hub. Just as, when the iron lump is struck, the fire is not overcome, so the person is not overcome; it is the elemental self that is overcome due to its association. Elsewhere it is said: This body arises from sexual union, devoid of consciousness, destined for hell, exiting through the urinary passage, covered with bones, smeared with flesh, bound with skin, filled with excrement, urine, bile, phlegm, marrow, fat, and other impurities, like a sack stuffed full. Elsewhere it is said: Delusion, fear, despair, sleep, lethargy, wounds, old age, sorrow, hunger and thirst, misery, anger, atheism, ignorance, envy, cruelty, stupidity, shamelessness, deceit, arrogance, inequality—these are associated with darkness. Thirst, affection, passion, greed, violence, pleasure, attachment to views, jealousy, desire, instability, longing, pursuit of wealth, favoring friends, dependence on possessions, hatred for unpleasant sense objects, attachment to pleasant ones—these are associated with passion. Filled and overcome by these, the elemental self attains manifold forms.” The third section begins. The seekers, those with upward-flowing seed, greatly astonished, approached and said, “Revered one, we salute you. Teach us, for you are our refuge; we know no other. Who is the guest of the elemental self, by whom, leaving this, one attains union with another?” Śākāyanya replied, “Elsewhere it is said: Like waves in great rivers, the return of what was done before is inevitable, like the arrival of death, hard to resist, like the ocean. Bound by the cords of good and evil fruits, like a beast, one lacks freedom, like one in bondage; in the realm of Yama, one is surrounded by many fears; like a drunkard, one delights in intoxication; seized by sin, one wanders; bitten by a great serpent, one sees danger; blinded by passion, one is in great darkness; like an illusion, one is in a world of magic; like a dream, one sees false visions; like the core of a banana, one is without substance; like an actor, one wears a momentary costume; like a painted wall, one delights in false beauty. Thus it is said: The sense objects, sound, touch, and so on, though appearing as meaningful, are in fact meaningless. When the elemental self is attached to them, it does not remember the supreme state.