With a deep-rooted conviction, the person thinks, “I was born from this father, in this lineage; this is my mother, this is my wealth.” Such tendencies arise naturally, shaping his sense of identity. He believes, “This is my good deed, this is my bad deed,” and weaves endless fabrications of ‘mine,’ playing in his heart with thoughts like, “I was a child, now I am young.” In this way, the thicket of worldly existence springs forth, blossoming with countless stars and flowers, its trembling leaves dark as storm clouds. He roams amidst herds of men and beasts, mingling with gods, demons, and birds, wandering through a grove dense with the pollen of worlds, thick with Māyā’s illusion and magical bowers. Within this vastness, oceanic lotus-ponds abound, and even the peaks of Meru and other mountains seem as mere clods. In the seed of the lotus of the mind, the sprout of experience lies hidden. Wherever this living being dies, there in an instant he perceives anew; in each world-egg that arises, so it is, again and again. Myriads of Brahmas, Rudras, Indras, Maruts, Vishnus, and Suns, along with Meru, oceans, continents, and worlds, have been seen and gone. These visions have gone, will go, and are going, in the undestroyed Reality. Who could count those that are enriched by Brahman? Thus, this world made of walls truly does not exist apart from thought; and thought itself is only space. Reflect on this: that which is consciousness-space alone is regarded as supreme; thought, too, is consciousness-space, and that alone is the highest state. Just as a whirlpool is only water and not a separate substance, so too, the seen exists only as perception, not as an independent reality. In the sky of consciousness, in the space of elements, what appears is like a reflection in a jewel; the world shines as the many-faceted gem of the Self, like a cloud in the sky. The word ‘world’ exists only with reference to my understanding; it is the supreme state. But with reference to your understanding, neither the words ‘you’ nor ‘I’ exist at all. Therefore, O sinless one, Lila and Sarasvati, having assumed forms of space, remain everywhere, unimpeded, from the all-pervading Supreme Self. Wherever and whenever, in that space, as they wish, they manifest themselves—by that, they enter into that house and abide there. Everywhere, the sky of consciousness arises; within it are perception, thought, recollection, and expansion. This is called the supernatural body here, which is not obstructed. So tell me, how, by whom, and in what way could it ever be hindered? As the two goddesses entered, that lotus-mansion appeared, beautiful with a pure interior, radiant with the rising of two moons. It was gentle, spotless, fragrant, with a soft, mild breeze; by its influence, even the battlefield where kings slept seemed transformed. The mansion was like a garden of fortune and joy, free from disease and pain, a blossoming forest in spring, or a lotus opening at dawn. By the streams of radiance from their bodies, cool as moonlight, the king was delighted and awakened, like a monarch anointed with nectar. He saw two apsaras resting on two seats, like two moons risen and merged upon the twin peaks of Meru. Astonished, he thought for a moment, then rose from his bed, like the wielder of the discus and mace rising from sleep. Arranging his garland, necklace, and splendid garments properly, he took a handful of flowers, blooming like a freshly opened cluster. Seated in the lotus posture on the ground, near the cushion, he drew the cloth from his waist, bowed, and spoke thus: “Victory to you, O goddesses, radiant as the moon, dispelling the faults of birth, instability, and burning pain; shining forth with the roar that drives away inner and outer darkness.” Having spoken, he placed the flowers at their feet, like a blossoming tree at the banks offering lotuses to the twin lotuses. Then, to tell the story of the king’s birth to Lila, the goddess Sarasvati, by her will, awakened the minister standing nearby. Awakened, he saw the two apsaras, offered a handful of flowers in reverence, and, leaving them at their feet, entered and stood before them, bowing. The goddess spoke, “O king, who are you, whose son are you, and when were you born here?” Hearing this, the minister replied, “O goddesses, by your grace I am able to speak openly before you; so listen as I recount the birth of my lord. “There was a king descended from the Ikshvaku lineage, whose eyes resembled lotuses, named Kundaratha, whose realm was veiled by the shadow of faults. He had a son with a face like the moon, named Bhadraratha; Bhadraratha’s son was Vishvaratha, and Vishvaratha’s son was Brihadratha. Brihadratha’s son was Sindhuratha; Sindhuratha’s son was Shailaratha; Shailaratha’s son was Kamaratha; Kamaratha’s son was Maharatha. Maharatha’s son was Vishnuratha; Vishnuratha’s son was Kalaratha; Kalaratha’s son was Suryaratha; Suryaratha’s son was Nabhoratha. “This lord of mine is the son of Nabhoratha, radiant with complete purity, his chariot filled with nectar, like the moon in the ocean of milk. He is known as Viduratha, born from the accumulation of great merit, from his mother Sumitra, who is fair like Gauri, just as Guha was born from another. “His father, when he was ten years old, gave him the kingdom and went to the forest; from that time, he has ruled the royal throne righteously. Today, when the tree of good deeds has borne fruit, you two queens—who were long tormented by the hardships of severe austerities—have become visible. “Thus, this lord of the earth is known as Viduratha; today, by your grace, he has attained supreme purity.” Having spoken thus, the king and the minister sat silently, with joined palms, bowed heads, and seated in the lotus posture upon the ground.