Listen, O Rāma, to the tale of Śuka, the illustrious son of Vyāsa, for it is a story as profound as the account of my own liberation, and it reveals the secret of freedom from rebirth. Your mind, like a flawless mirror, is by its very nature pure and clear; it needs but the slightest cleansing. In this, it is much like the mind of Śuka, son of Vyāsa, who, even after knowing all that could be known, sought only the stillness of inner rest. Yet, O revered one, you may wonder: if Śuka’s mind was so pure, how was it that at first he did not find rest, and only later attained it? Hear now the story. There sits beside your father, Vyāsa, a sage of dark hue like collyrium, radiant as the sun, enthroned upon gold. This is the venerable Kṛṣṇadvaipāyana, your father. He had a son, Śuka, whose face shone like the moon, a master of wisdom, steadfast as the very embodiment of sacrifice. Śuka, like you, pondered deeply the nature of the world. Through his intense discernment, he investigated the truth for a long time and eventually realized it. When his tireless mind reached the highest reality by its own effort, he did not fall into the error of thinking, “This is not the real thing,” nor did he find immediate rest in the Self. Instead, his mind became naturally still, withdrawing from the fleeting pleasures of the world, like the cātaka bird that drinks only rain and turns away from the earth. Once, while Śuka was alone on Mount Meru, his mind pure and serene, he approached his father, the sage Kṛṣṇadvaipāyana, with deep reverence and devotion. He asked, “O sage, how has this display of worldly existence arisen? How does it come to rest, and for how long, for whom, and when?” Vyāsa, who knew the Self, answered his son with all that was pure and appropriate. Yet, though Śuka listened with his pure intellect, he did not find those words to be many or weighty. Vyāsa, perceiving his son’s intent, replied again, “I do not truly know this.” He then told Śuka, “There is a king on earth named Janaka who knows this subject thoroughly. From him, you will receive all you seek.” Thus instructed, Śuka departed from Mount Sumeru and journeyed to the city of Videha, ruled by King Janaka. When he arrived, the gatekeepers announced him to the great-souled Janaka: “O King, the son of Vyāsa, Śuka, stands at your gate.” Desiring to test Śuka, Janaka, with a show of disregard, said, “Let him wait,” and for seven days remained silent. After this, Janaka had Śuka brought into the courtyard, where he was left absorbed in thought for another seven days. Then, Janaka brought Śuka into the inner chambers but did not come before him for yet another seven days. There, Janaka entertained Śuka—whose face was like the moon—with delightful women, food, and various pleasures. Yet, to Śuka’s mind, these enjoyments were like sorrows; they did not move him at all, just as a gentle breeze cannot stir a mountain firmly anchored. He remained tranquil, pure, silent, and joyful, complete in himself like the full moon. Recognizing Śuka’s true nature, Janaka finally had him brought before him. Seeing him, the king bowed with a joyful heart. Having fulfilled all worldly duties and attained every desire, Janaka welcomed Śuka warmly and asked, “What is it that you wish for?” Śuka, in turn, asked, “O teacher, how has this display of worldly existence arisen, and how does true peace come about? Tell me this clearly and without delay.” When thus questioned, Śuka replied as his noble father had previously taught him. “I myself have discerned this through my own understanding, and when my father questioned me, I answered only this much. O best of speakers, you too have spoken this very meaning, and this is exactly what is found in the scriptures.” He continued, “Just as this world, which arises from one’s own imagination, dissolves with the cessation of imagination, so too is the certainty that the burned-out world is empty of essence.” “Therefore, O mighty-armed one, tell me truly and purely: from you my mind finds rest—let it not wander in the world.” Janaka replied, “There is no higher or further certainty than this, O sage; you have known this yourself, and have also heard it again from your teacher. Here, only the undivided consciousness-self exists; nothing else. One is bound by the force of thought, and freed when thought ceases. Whoever truly knows this becomes dispassionate toward all enjoyments and all that is seen.” He continued, “For you as well, O mighty hero, your mind has attained dispassion from enjoyments and from long-standing afflictions; what else do you seek to ask? Such fullness has not arisen even for your father, who remains in vast austerity, though he is a great treasure of all-knowingness, as it has for you. I am even greater than Vyāsa, though I am his disciple and his son; yet, because your desire for enjoyment is so diminished, you surpass even me here. You have attained all that is to be attained, your mind is fully complete; you do not fall into the visible, O Brahman, you are liberated—abandon delusion.” Thus instructed by the great-souled Janaka, Śuka rested silently in the pure, supreme reality.