Just as a whirlpool is nothing but water, with no separate existence apart from it, so too, what we perceive as the world exists only as perception within us—it does not stand apart as an independent reality. In the vast sky of consciousness, within the subtle space of the elements, whatever appears is no more than a reflection in a flawless jewel. That world shines forth as the many-faceted gem of the Self, just as a cloud might appear in the open sky. The very word “world” has meaning only in relation to my own understanding; ultimately, it is the supreme state itself. In the highest truth, even the distinctions of “you” and “I” vanish—they have no real existence from that standpoint. Therefore, O sinless ones, Lila and Sarasvati, having assumed subtle forms of pure space, abide everywhere, unimpeded, as emanations of the all-pervading Supreme Self. Wherever and whenever they wish, in that infinite space, they manifest themselves and, by their will, enter any house and dwell there as they please. Everywhere, the sky of consciousness arises, and within it are the play of perception, thought, memory, and expansion. This is called the supernatural body here, which moves freely, unobstructed—so how, by whom, and in what way could such a body ever be hindered? As these two goddesses entered, a wondrous lotus-mansion appeared before them, its interior pure and radiant, glowing as if illuminated by the rising of two moons. The mansion was gentle, spotless, and fragrant, with a soft, mild breeze drifting through its halls; its very presence transformed the battlefield where kings lay asleep, filling it with peace. It was like a garden of fortune and joy, free from all disease and pain—a blossoming forest in spring, or a lotus opening to the first light of dawn. Streams of radiance flowed from the bodies of the goddesses, cool and soothing as moonlight, delighting and awakening the king as if he were anointed with nectar. He saw before him two apsaras resting on twin seats, shining like two moons risen together and merged upon the twin peaks of Mount Meru. For a moment, the king stood astonished; then, gathering his thoughts, he rose from his bed, as Vishnu himself might rise from sleep, resplendent with his garland, necklace, and splendid garments in perfect order. He took a handful of freshly blossomed flowers, and, seating himself in the lotus posture near the cushion, he respectfully drew aside his waist-cloth, bowed low, and spoke with reverence: “Victory to you, O goddesses, radiant as the moon! You dispel the faults of birth, instability, and burning pain, shining forth with the thunderous roar that drives away darkness within and without.” Having spoken thus, he placed the handful of flowers at their feet, like a blossoming tree by the riverbank offering its lotuses to the twin lotuses of the goddesses. Then, for the sake of telling the story of the king’s birth to Lila, the goddess Sarasvati, by her will, awakened the minister who stood nearby. Awakened, the minister saw the two apsaras, offered a handful of flowers in deep reverence, and, leaving them at their feet, entered and stood before them, bowing low. The goddess then 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—his name was Kundaratha, though his realm was veiled by the shadow of faults. His son, with a face like the moon, was Bhadraratha; Bhadraratha’s son was Vishvaratha; 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 Viduratha was only ten years old, gave him the kingdom and departed to the forest; from that time, Viduratha 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, both the king and the minister sat silently, with joined palms and bowed heads, seated in the lotus posture upon the ground. Then Sarasvati, gently touching the king’s head with her hand, said, “O King, recall with discernment your previous birth yourself.” At her touch, the darkness of ignorance in his heart faded away, and his heart blossomed fully with the light of knowledge. He remembered the events of his past, as if they were stirring within him—his sole sovereignty in another body, and the playful acts that accompanied it. Having known the account of his previous existence, which unfolded through the play of knowledge and effort, he felt as if he were carried away in the vast ocean of his own story. He exclaimed, “Alas! This world of transmigration is indeed spread out by illusion; by the grace of the goddesses, I have now recognized it here. O goddesses, what is this? Has only a single day passed since my death? And yet, today, seventy years of my life have gone by here. I remember many activities, I remember my great-grandfather, I remember my childhood, youth, and the company of friends and relatives.” Sarasvati replied, “O King, immediately after the great delusion and fainting of death, in that other world that passed, all of it occurred in that very instant. In that very house, or in this one—whether you know it or not, I will tell you—the interior space of that house is said to be situated right here. Within the house of a brahmin in a mountain village, there is the king’s hall; within it, this appears, and within each, the house of the world.” Thus, the boundaries between worlds, lives, and experiences dissolve in the vastness of consciousness, and all is seen as the play of the Self—one reality, shining in many forms.