Having made her resolve, Lila devoted herself to worshipping the great goddess. In answer to her devotion, the goddess appeared before her, manifesting as a radiant maiden. Lila, seated in a posture of reverence before this divine presence, gathered her thoughts and, firmly established on earth, began to question the supreme power that is the ultimate reality. “O goddess,” Lila said, her voice steady, “the noble are not disturbed when it is time to show compassion. It is known that in the beginning, you alone established this ancient order of things. Therefore, O supreme goddess, I humbly ask you to tell me about this matter from before. Surely, by your grace, my request will find fulfillment. “There is said to exist a mirror of the world’s name, purer even than the sky, stretching countless crores of yojanas in all directions. This mirror is seamless, solid, soft, smooth, and cool. It is known as ‘insentient-conscious,’ unbroken and beyond grasp. Within it are reflected all those who have transcended the limits of direction, time, calculation, space, illumination, and destiny. “O mother, the glory of the reflection of the three worlds exists both within and without this mirror. What, then, is artificial in it, and what is natural? O beautiful one, tell me truly: what is the nature of uncontrived creation, and what is the nature of contrived creation? Explain this to me as it truly is. “Just as I stand here and you, O goddess Ambika, are present, so too is that uncontrived creation, O queen of the gods—this I know. But where my husband now abides—that creation is contrived, I think, for it is empty, lacking space, time, and other such factors. A contrived creation never arises from the uncontrived, for an effect never emerges from a cause that is dissimilar. Indeed, O Ambika, we see that an effect is distinctly different from its cause: water cannot be drawn from clay, yet a pot, which arises from clay, serves as its vessel. “Whatever effect comes into being does so with the help of cooperating causes; yet, in that, some peculiarity of the primary cause is always observed. But in the creation of my husband, O lovely-faced one, there is no cause such as earth and the like; the earth there did not arise from this terrestrial globe. Consciousness has departed from here, soaring away—so how could this earth exist here? What cooperating causes, what cause at all, is present in this creation? “Even when causes are absent, that which arises from auxiliaries is nothing other than the effect of prior causes, as all have experienced. That memory, O Devi, belonging to my husband, has thus become manifest; and I know the cause of memory—this creation is its certainty. Memory is of the nature of space; just as that arises, so too for you. The creation of my husband has indeed been experienced, and it is like space in its power. The creation, made of memory and space, as spoken of by my husband, I likewise consider this creation here as an illustration. “Thus, this unreal creation of my husband shines brilliantly; in the same way, this here appears—I see this, O child. Just as from the formless creation of my husband, another creation arises, consisting of delusion, so too does this; tell me, for the removal of the wall of the world. “Previously, memory was merely of the nature of delusion, and thus this creation arose; it appears as a dream-delusion, so it is said—listen. Somewhere in the space of consciousness, there is a pavilion of worldly existence, having the form of covering and uncovering, like the leaves of the sky-born lotus. “He is like a statue supporting Mount Meru, a city-lord, a splendid salabhanjika, one of the fourteen guardians, a king of the Trigarta region, and a lamp illuminating the sun. He is like a mountain stone covered by an anthill at the corner, a dwelling place for many sons, elders, rulers, and brahmins. He is like a treasury filled with constellations, dark at the uppermost sky, a buzzing swarm of perfected beings dwelling in the heavens, and the humming of mosquitoes. He is like a corner enveloped by the dense smoke of cloud-mansions, an aerial insect settled on the great bamboo of the wind’s path. “He is filled with the playful chatter of gods, demons, and other children, and crowded with the vessels and implements of cities, towns, and worlds. The earth there is washed by the streams of rivers, ocean waves, and lakes, and its cavities shine with the enjoyments of the underworld, earth, and heaven. There, in the hollow of a certain corner, on a mountain stone, there is a small pit belonging to a mountain village. “In this place, surrounded by rivers, mountains, and forests, there lived a brahmin, always with his wife and sons, healthy, possessing cows and milk, free from fear of kings, hospitable to all, and devoted to righteousness. “In wealth, appearance, age, actions, learning, and grandeur, one may resemble Vasiṣṭha, but not possess the consciousness of Vasiṣṭha. He was called Vasiṣṭha by name; his wife was Indusundarī by name, but on earth and in the heavens, she was known as Arundhatī. In wealth, appearance, age, actions, learning, and grandeur, she too was like Arundhatī, but not in the essence of her consciousness. She moved with the playful grace of unfeigned love, her beauty radiant; she was his entire world, seated like a lotus. “One day, that sage sat on the grassy slope of a mountain near a lake, and saw a king below. The king was traveling with his entire retinue, seeking the pleasure of the hunt, with a great clamor of his army, as if intending to conquer Mount Meru itself. With yak-tail fans, moon-bright banners, and garlands of creepers, he made the sky appear as if adorned with a circle of white parasols, like a silver pavement. The dust raised by horses and the multitude of chariots resembled clouds; the city was hidden by tall mansions and gateways, raised by elephants.” Thus did Lila, in the presence of the goddess, recount her questions and the vision of worlds within worlds, seeking to understand the true nature of creation, memory, and reality.