Just as in a dream, one might see a mighty mountain—yet, on waking, realize that neither its size nor its weight was real—so too, all the forms we perceive in the world are but empty space, shaped only by the imagination and not by any true substance. The distinction that the ignorant make between the words ‘world’ and ‘Brahman’ is only a matter of thought; in reality, there is no difference in their meaning, nor from the word ‘space’ itself. This radiance that we experience—the simple shining forth of consciousness and even of non-consciousness—relates to space as subtly as a cloud made of imagination relates to a real cloud in the sky. Just as a city seen in a dream appears clear and tangible compared to one merely imagined while awake, so too does this world appear vivid compared to a world conjured solely in the mind. Therefore, what seems to be a world, filled with both inert matter and conscious beings, is in truth nothing but pure space. The terms ‘void’ and ‘space-world’ are interchangeable, for both are of the very nature of consciousness itself. In this way, nothing has ever truly arisen here—neither the world, nor its beginning, nor anything that is seen; all remains as it always is, beyond name and unmanifest. The world itself is the vast, indivisible space of consciousness, without any boundaries or divisions—like a region so small it cannot be measured, or a scale that can never be filled. Its true nature is space alone: pure, untouched by the grasping of forms. Yet within this space, a wondrous vision made entirely of space stands forth, as if a city conjured by the power of imagination. Now, listen to the story of the pavilion—a tale that delights the ear and brings peace to the mind, illuminating these truths without doubt. Once, upon this earth, there was a noble family, radiant as a fully blossomed lotus. Its head was a king named Padma, illustrious, blessed with many sons and great wealth. In upholding boundaries, he was like the ocean; to his enemies, he was the sun that dispels darkness; to his beloveds, he was the moon that brings delight to night-blooming lotuses; to faults, he was the fire that consumes dry grass. Among gatherings of the wise, he was the Meru mountain; from him, the moon of fame arose, and he was the lake for swans of noble virtues, the sun to the lotus of the arts. He was the wind that scattered the ocean of his enemies, the lion among elephants of pride, beloved of all branches of knowledge, and a mine of wondrous qualities. He was the Mandara mountain that churned the sea of foes, the honey of a multitude of blossoming graces, the god of love armed with the flowers of good fortune. He was the gentle breeze that played among the creepers of sport, the hero at the festival of daring, the moon to the night-blooming water-lily of nobility, the fire to the rare creeper of sport. His wife was Lila, fortunate and full of charm, endowed with every auspicious quality. She appeared on earth like a lotus newly blossomed, adorned with all prosperity, sweet-spoken in her playfulness, her gentle radiance spreading joy, her smile like the rising of a second moon. Her lotus face captivated the minds of the denizens of Alaka; her body was cool and her heart pure as the very core of a lotus—a living embodiment of the lotus itself. Her smile shone with the radiance of jasmine clusters entwined in playful vines; her hands were as tender as new shoots, adorned with flowers, a goddess of fortune in human form. With a radiant, pure, and auspicious form, she brought joy to all, entering the world like the divine river Ganga, delighting in the company of swans. For King Padma, new pleasures continually arose, as if a fresh beloved had come to serve and enjoy the delights of the earth’s blossoming flowers. In their shared life, Lila mirrored the king’s moods: when he was anxious, so was she; when he was joyful, she was joyful; when he was disturbed, she too was disturbed. Like a reflection, she was only fearful when he was angry. With this celestial maiden of the earth, the king—who had no other consort—enjoyed the taste of pure and unfeigned love. Together, they wandered through gardens, forest thickets, dense groves of tamala trees, beds shaded by flower canopies, and dwellings entwined with vines. They delighted in palace beds strewn with flowers, strolled along avenues adorned with blossoms, swung on spring garden swings, and played in lotus ponds. They found joy in sandalwood groves, beneath the shade of santana trees, in the homes of kadamba and neem, and within the hollows of paribhadra trees. Their pleasures took them to mountain caves and valleys, to rooms with windows opening to the world, to terraces on riverbanks, and to mansions perched atop elephants. In the heat of summer, they cooled themselves in icy mansions, in bowers entwined with creepers, among golden palaces and trees, and walls adorned with pearls and rubies. They wandered where jasmine and coral trees bloomed, their pollen fragrant, in spring gardens alive with the songs of cuckoos. They walked on grounds covered with soft, radiant grasses made of many precious gems, and at waterfalls showering sparkling streams. They climbed mountains bearing golden and ruby-studded rocks, visited the dwellings of divine sages, and traveled to distant, meritorious hermitages. They played in blooming ponds of white lotuses, among smiling water-lilies and blossoming forest clearings, and in beds of blue lotuses in full bloom. Their days were filled with riddles and stories, with handfuls of letter-games, with board games and secret dice contests. They delighted in dramas and tales, in verses and intricate patterns of dots, in the dialects of different regions, and in the customs of cities and villages. They adorned themselves with garlands, wreaths, and chains of flowers, with various ornaments, and moved with playful, graceful gestures, enjoying vessels filled with diverse delights. They chewed tender betel leaves, areca nut, and camphor, embraced playfully, and delighted in the gentle motions of flower-adorned swings. At home, they swung each other in rhythm, hid themselves in bowers of blossoming creepers, and found joy in journeys by boat, chariot, elephant, horse, and camel. They played together in the water, sprinkling one another, and reveled in dances, songs, artistic performances, vigorous tandava dances, music, conversations, and the playing of the lute and drum. Thus, in the union of King Padma and Queen Lila, the world’s joys unfolded—each pleasure and delight a reflection of the wondrous, spacious vision that is consciousness itself.