Just as a sprout lies hidden within a seed and, at the right moment and place, bursts forth into a radiant form, so too does the perception of the world unfold before us—emerging from its subtle origins into vivid experience. And just as the wonder of a substance arises unceasingly in the heart, always present within its core, so does the existence of the world naturally abide within the depths of one whose body is pure consciousness. Now, O Raghava, listen to the story of Akashaja, the one born of space—a tale called the ‘Origin,’ which will bring clarity to your understanding. There once lived a twice-born Brahmin named Akashaja. He was supremely righteous, ever devoted to meditation, and always intent on the welfare of all beings. Over the course of a long life, Death began to ponder: “I consume all beings in due course, for I am inexhaustible. Yet, why do I not devour this Brahmin, Akashaja? In this matter, my power is blunted, like the edge of a sword against stone.” Determined, Death resolved to go to the city where Akashaja lived and slay him, for those who are truly resolute never abandon their effort. As Death entered Akashaja’s dwelling, a blazing fire—like the fire at the end of an age—erupted, burning him. Despite breaking through this great network of flames and entering within, Death tried with all his might to seize the Brahmin. But even though Akashaja was right before him, Death could not grasp him, even with a hundred hands—just as even the strong cannot restrain a person of unwavering resolve. Confounded, Death approached Yama, the dispeller of doubts, and asked, “Lord, why am I unable to consume this being born of space?” Yama replied, “O Death, you alone do not have the power to kill anyone by force. It is the actions destined for death that are the cause here, not anything else. Therefore, diligently seek out the actions of this Brahmin that make him subject to death; with their help, you will be able to devour him.” Intent on finding these actions, Death wandered through regions, horizons, lakes, rivers, and directions. He searched forests and jungles, mountain and ocean shores, distant islands, wildernesses, cities, and ancient towns. He traversed villages, entire kingdoms, and the depths of remote lands. After roaming the whole earth, he found nothing anywhere. Eager but unsuccessful, Death found none of the actions belonging to the one born of space—like a wise man seeking the son of a barren woman, or another searching for a mountain made of imagination. He returned and questioned Yama, the all-knowing, for guidance: “O Lord, tell me, where are the actions of one born of space established?” After pondering deeply, Dharma-raja spoke: “O Death, there are no actions at all for one born of space. This Brahmin, born from space alone, has arisen solely from the sky. He who is born from space becomes pure space itself; there are no cooperating causes whatsoever for him. There is not the slightest connection with previous actions for him, just as with the son of a barren woman or one who has never been formed. Therefore, he is truly unborn, self-existent, and uncreated; he has no prior actions, like a great tree in the sky. His mind is not bound by any previous actions, for none exist; and as of today, he has not accumulated any other actions at all. He is the very essence of the space-casket, having the form of clear space; always established in samadhi, he has no actions whatsoever. He has no past actions, nor does he perform any now; thus, he is merely pure consciousness-space. The movement of life that is observed as action in him by us and others is seen only by us; he himself has no notion of action in this matter. His body is seen by us, but he does not know it at all, just as the sky is not aware of the figure of a statue carved within a pillar. Just as a statue remains uncarved within a pillar, so this supreme Self, having become its own self, abides within, O twice-born one. As liquidity is in water, as emptiness is in space, and as movement is in wind, so is this one in the supreme state. He has no present actions accumulated, nor any past ones here; he has not come under the sway of worldly existence. When something arises in the absence of cooperating causes, it is experienced that it is not different from its own cause. This twice-born one is self-existent, whose essence is the pure space-like sheath; he is not a doer in the past nor now—tell me, how can he be affected? When he, by intellect, will imagine what is called death, then, devoid of intellect, he himself will die at that very moment. Whoever is firmly convinced, ‘I am composed of earth and the like,’ quickly becomes identified with the element of earth, and such a one can indeed be grasped. But this one, whose form is not of earth, who is of the nature of pure consciousness, cannot be grasped—just as the sky cannot be seized with a sturdy rope. O venerable one, how does the void come into being, and how is it said to exist? Tell me: do earth and the other elements exist or not, or in what manner do they exist or not exist? That has never been born at any time, nor does it ever not exist; it is only pure consciousness, shining alone, and so it remains. At the time of the great dissolution, nothing at all remains; only the tranquil, undecaying, infinite Self of Brahman exists. Know that as pure consciousness, free from objects of cognition, it is the subtlest of the subtle; and just as the sky appears like a mountain when seen from near, so too is that subtlety.” Thus, the story of Akashaja reveals the nature of pure consciousness, untouched by actions, death, or creation—ever abiding as the infinite, subtle Self.