O Rama, delight of the Raghu lineage, having now explained to you the sequence of right conduct, I shall expound the progression of knowledge itself. This knowledge is renowned, life-giving, and bestows the fruits of human purpose. Therefore, a wise person should listen to it from one who truly knows, who has realized the meaning of the scriptures and is trustworthy. When you listen with a pure intellect, you will surely attain the true state—just as water, when touched by kataka nuts, becomes clear and pure. O sage, when the mind comes to know what is to be known, it is helplessly drawn to the supreme state. Having realized the highest, undivided awareness, it never abandons that state of understanding. The knower of Brahman appears as Brahman, manifesting through words—just as, in a dream, one appears within oneself. Whatever exists is known by the meaning of its own word—whoever knows what, let him know that. By this reasoning, throughout all creation, while Brahman-space alone exists, the questions, “What is this? Whose is it?” lose their meaning and become void. Therefore, as I understand, I will speak of all this according to reality, in proper order, and in its own nature; let the wise listen. Just as in a dream one perceives a world, so does consciousness see this world made of the body; here, the analogies of dream and waking existence are found together. Having spoken of the conduct of the seeker of liberation, I will now thoroughly explain the section on origination. Bondage is nothing but the existence of the seen; when the seen is absent, there is no bondage. Listen, then, to how the seen comes to be. Whatever arises in the world, that alone grows, that alone attains liberation, heaven, or even hell. Therefore, for your understanding, I will tell you: in the cycle of existence, origination comes first, just as it always has. Now, for this topic, listen briefly, O Raghava; later, I will explain to you in detail as you desire. All this world that is seen—moving and unmoving—perishes at the end of the cosmic cycle, just as a dream dissolves in deep sleep. Then, what remains is tranquil and profound, pervaded by neither light nor darkness—something unnameable, unmanifest, whatever it may be. Truth, Self, Supreme Brahman, Reality—such names have been conceived by the wise for practical purposes, as designations for That Great One. That very Self, existing thus, appears as if it were another, shining forth, and seems to enter into the living beings destined for future experiences. Then, coming into the confusion of being called “jiva,” it becomes mind; the silent Self, through thought, becomes sluggish. Thus, from the Supreme Self, the mind arises—just as from the stable ocean, a wave arises, unstable and changing. That mind, by its own freedom, quickly imagines endlessly; by it, this splendid illusion, like a magician’s display, is spread out. Just as the meaning of the word “bracelet” is distinct within gold—yet there is no such thing as “bracelet” in gold itself—so too, the meaning of the word “world” does not exist in the Supreme. This world exists only in Brahman, as it is, with no other essence; there is no reality to the world, just as “braceletness” does not exist in gold. The world, which appears as a moving wave in the river of suffering, is truly unreal; like the splendor of a magician’s illusion, it is projected only by the mind. Ignorance, transmigration, bondage, illusion, delusion, and great darkness—these are the names given by the wise to what is merely imagined. Now listen as I describe the nature of bondage; afterwards, you will know the true nature of liberation, O one whose face is like the moon. Bondage is said to be the presence of the seer, the seen, and their existence; the seer is bound by dependence on the seen, and is freed when the seen is absent. The seen is called the world, the sense of “I,” “you,” and so on, which arises from creation; as long as this persists, liberation does not exist. This disease of the seen does not subside through futile talk such as “not this, not this”; rather, it increases through thoughts that give rise to it. Nor by the weight of reasoning, nor by observances such as pilgrimage, can the reality of the visible world be discerned—for these are only means of inquiry. If the world is indeed visible, it never ceases anywhere; for what is unreal has no existence, and what is real never ceases to be. Wherever this essence, which is both sentient and insentient, abides, there the glory of the visible arises—even within the smallest atom. Therefore, the visible world exists; yet I have cleansed it away—renounced through austerity, meditation, and recitation, just as one is satisfied after polishing a mirror. Even if the visible world exists, it is reflected—without doubt—even within the smallest atom, in the mirror of consciousness. Wherever it is situated, O Rama, it is reflected as in a mirror; mountains, earth, rivers, and so forth, likewise appear in the mirror of consciousness. Then, there again arise sorrow, old age, death, birth, grasping and releasing of existence and non-existence, gross and subtle, moving and unmoving. This visible world has been cleansed by me; I do not abide in it. Yet this alone is the inexhaustible seed for remembrance of transmigration, even in samadhi. When this vision of the world exists, there is no occurrence of the imperishable state of deep sleep, or the fourth state, nor of absorption without thought. Indeed, when the mind emerges from absorption, all this world appears as uninterrupted suffering, just as it does at the end of deep sleep. O Rama, when that is attained, what further use is there for absorptions? For when calamity falls again, what happiness is there, even if equality lasts but a moment? Or, if one should attain a state of thought-free absorption, I consider that to be the stainless state, resembling the imperishable deep sleep.