In the sacred discourse of the Praśna Upaniṣad, the seekers gather around the revered teacher, eager for wisdom. The teacher begins by revealing the all-pervading nature of Prāṇa, the vital force. He declares, “He is Agni who burns; he is the Sun; he is Parjanya, the rain-giver; he is Vāyu, the wind; he is the Earth, the Lord of wealth; he is both truth and untruth, and that which is immortal.” Prāṇa is the essence behind all forms and functions in the universe. Just as the spokes of a wheel are fixed in its hub, so too is everything established in Prāṇa: the Ṛg, Yajur, and Sāma Vedas, sacrifice, kingship, and priesthood—all rest upon Prāṇa. He moves as Prajāpati in the womb, and he alone is born again and again. To Prāṇa, all creatures offer their homage, for he is established in their very breath. Among the gods, Prāṇa shines most radiant; among the ancestors, he receives the first offering; among the seers, he is the truth in their conduct; he is Atharvan and Aṅgiras. By his brilliance, Prāṇa is Indra; as protector, he is Rudra; he moves in the mid-region and is the Sun, lord of lights. When Prāṇa showers down, all creatures rejoice, anticipating the arrival of food as they desire. Prāṇa is the wanderer, the single charioteer, the lord of all that exists. The seekers say, “We offer the first portion to you; you are our father, O Mātariśvan.” The form of Prāṇa established in speech, hearing, sight, and mind is prayed for: “Make that auspicious for us; do not depart.” Everything in the three worlds is under Prāṇa’s control. The teacher pleads, “Protect us like a mother her children; grant us prosperity and wisdom.” Thus, the second question concludes. Then Kauśalya, son of Aśvalāyana, approaches and asks, “Venerable Sir, from where is this Prāṇa born? How does it enter the body? How does it divide and establish itself? By what does it depart? How does it support what is outside and within?” The teacher replies, “You ask questions beyond the ordinary, and your devotion to Brahman is evident. Therefore, I will tell you.” Prāṇa is born from the Self. As a shadow is cast by a person, so is Prāṇa spread in the Self. By the mind’s action, it enters the body. Just as a king appoints officers to rule over villages, so does Prāṇa assign each function to the other prāṇas, arranging them separately. Apāna is placed in the organs of excretion and generation; Prāṇa itself resides in the eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils; Samāna is in the middle, distributing food equally. These are the seven flames. The Self dwells in the heart, from which a hundred and one nāḍīs branch out; each has a hundred branches, and each branch has seventy-two thousand sub-branches. In these, Vyāna moves. By one channel, Udāna rises upward; by virtue, it leads to the virtuous world; by vice, to the sinful world; and by both, to the human world. The sun is the external Prāṇa; he rises and supports the Prāṇa related to the eyes. The deity on earth supports Apāna within a person. The space between is Samāna; the air is Vyāna. The upward-moving energy is radiance; when this radiance is calmed, the senses merge into the mind and return again to rebirth. With whatever mind one departs, with that he goes to the life-breath; the life-breath, endowed with radiance and accompanied by the self, leads him to the world shaped by his intention. Whoever thus knows the life-breath as described—his offspring do not perish; he becomes immortal. The teacher proclaims, “He who knows the origin, entry, place, pervasiveness, and fivefold nature of the life-breath within himself attains immortality.” Thus ends the third question. Next, Sauryāyaṇi Gārgya asks, “Venerable sir, in this person, what things sleep, what remain awake, who sees dreams, whose happiness is this, and in whom do all these rest?” The teacher answers, “Gārgya, just as the rays of the sun, when it sets, all become one in its circle of light and when it rises, spread out again—so too, all this merges in the supreme deity, the mind. Therefore, at that time, this person neither hears nor sees nor smells nor tastes nor touches nor speaks nor grasps nor enjoys nor releases nor moves; they say, ‘he sleeps.’” Only the foremost life-breath remains awake in this city of the body. The downward-moving breath is like the household fire; the diffusive breath is like the fire for cooking; from the household fire, the sacrificial fire is kindled, which is the upward-moving breath. The equalizing breath brings together the two offerings—exhalation and inhalation. The mind is the sacrificer; the upward-moving breath is the fruit of the sacrifice, leading the sacrificer to Brahman day by day. In dreams, the deity experiences his greatness: what has been seen, he sees again; what has been heard, he hears again; what has been experienced in different places and directions, he experiences again and again. He sees both the seen and the unseen, the heard and the unheard, the experienced and the unexperienced, the real and the unreal—he sees all. When he is overpowered by radiance, this deity does not see dreams; then, in this body, he experiences happiness. Just as birds gather on a tree, so do all these rest in the supreme self. Earth and its essence, water and its essence, fire and its essence, air and its essence, space and its essence; the eye and what is to be seen, the ear and what is to be heard, the nose and what is to be smelled, taste and what is to be tasted, skin and what is to be touched, speech and what is to be spoken, hands and what is to be grasped, the generative organ and what is to be enjoyed, the anus and what is to be excreted, the feet and what is to be moved, mind and what is to be thought, intellect and what is to be understood, ego and what is to be asserted, consciousness and what is to be contemplated, radiance and what is to be illuminated, life-breath and what is to be sustained—all these rest in the self. He is the seer, toucher, hearer, smeller, taster, thinker, knower, doer—the self of knowledge, the person. He rests in the supreme, imperishable self. The teacher declares, “He attains the highest imperishable who knows that which is without shadow, without body, colorless, pure, and imperishable. He becomes all-knowing and all.” The self of knowledge, together with all the deities, life-breaths, and beings, are established where one knows that imperishable. He becomes all-knowing and enters into all. Thus ends the fourth question. Then Śaibya Satyakāma asks, “Venerable sir, if someone among men meditates on Om at the time of death, which world does he conquer by that?” The teacher replies, “O Satyakāma, Om is both the higher and the lower Brahman. Therefore, the knower, by this means, attains one or the other. If he meditates on only one measure (of Om), by that alone he is quickly born again on earth. The hymns lead him to the world of men, where, endowed with austerity, celibacy, and faith, he experiences greatness. If by means of two measures it is merged in the mind, he is led to the world of the moon through the Yajur-veda; having experienced greatness there, he returns again. But whoever meditates upon that Supreme Person with this very syllable, Om, in its three measures, he is united with the brilliance of the sun. Just as a snake sheds its skin, so is he freed from sin; he is led by the Sāma-veda to the world of Brahman, and from that mass of embodied souls, he beholds the Supreme Person, higher than the highest. The three measures, when applied to the mortal, are mutually connected, never separated. In actions—outer, inner, and intermediate—when rightly applied, the knower does not waver. With the Ṛg-veda, this is attained; with the Yajur-veda, the intermediate space; with the Sāma-veda, that which the wise discern. By Om alone as the means, the knower attains that which is peaceful, ageless, immortal, fearless, and supreme.” Thus ends the fifth question. Finally, Sukeśa Bhāradvāja asks, “Revered sir, Hiraṇyanābha, the prince of Kosala, approached me and asked, ‘O Bhāradvāja, do you know the person with sixteen parts?’ I said, ‘I do not know this.’ For if I had known, how could I not have told you? Whoever speaks falsehood with its root dries up; therefore, I must not speak untruth. He mounted his chariot in silence and departed. Now I ask you: Where is that person?” The teacher replies, “Here itself, within the body, O good man, is that person in whom these sixteen parts arise.” Thus, through these profound questions and answers, the seekers learn of the all-encompassing Prāṇa, the mysteries of the Self, the nature of sleep and dreams, the significance of Om, and the person with sixteen parts—all within the sacred body, all within the supreme Self.