Sarasvati, the radiant goddess of wisdom, gently placed her hand upon the king’s head and spoke: “O King, recall with discernment your previous birth yourself.” At her touch, the darkness of ignorance that clouded his heart faded away, and the light of knowledge caused his heart to blossom fully. Suddenly, memories of his past began to stir within him—he remembered his former sovereignty in another body, recalling with vividness the playful acts and experiences of that life. As the account of his previous existence unfolded before him, revealed through the interplay of knowledge and effort, it was as if he were swept away in the vast ocean of his own story. Overwhelmed, he exclaimed, “Alas! This world of transmigration is indeed spread out by illusion. By the grace of the goddesses, I have now recognized its true nature here.” He turned to the goddesses and asked in wonder, “O goddesses, what is this mystery? Has only a single day passed since my death? Yet now, seventy years of my life have gone by here. I remember so many activities, my great-grandfather, my childhood, my youth, and the company of friends and relatives.” He continued, “O King, immediately after the great delusion and fainting of death, all that occurred in that other world happened in a single instant. Whether it was in that house or this one, I will tell you—the inner 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 world appears, and within each, the house of the world.” “It is said that, by my boon, your soul remains within the brahmin’s house; there itself is the royal seat, and within that, your own hall. Within that very house is this circle of worldly existence, and there, your own house stands, slow to begin. In that very mind of yours, pure as the clear sky, this appearance of worldly confusion is spread out.” He reflected further, “Just as this is said to be my birth, so too is the Ikshvaku lineage mine; these are my names, and these were my ancestors in times past. I was born, became a child, and when I was ten years old, my father, having become a renunciant, went to the forest after installing me on the throne. Then, having conquered all directions and made the kingdom free of obstacles, I ruled the earth with these ministers and citizens. While performing sacrifices and upholding righteousness, protecting my subjects, seventy years of my life passed. Now, this hostile force has come, fierce in form; after fighting them, I have returned home as before.” He added, “Upon my return home, I worship these two goddesses; for when worshipped, deities indeed grant their desired boons. Of these two, one is mine—she grants knowledge and the memory of past births; here, the goddess has given the blossoming of the lotus of the heart. Now I have accomplished my purpose. I am born anew, free from doubt; I am at peace, completely extinguished, and I rest in pure contentment.” Sarasvati then explained, “Thus, this delusion of yours, so greatly agitated, filled with various pursuits and enjoyments, wandering through different worlds, has been extended. At the very moment in the past when you approached death, at that very instant, this insight spontaneously arose in your heart. Just as a current of water, leaving one whirlpool, quickly enters another, so too does the stream of consciousness swiftly assume another cycle after abandoning one. As a whirlpool, mingled with other eddies, continues to revolve, so too does the glory of creation, mixed and unmixed, sometimes increase in this way.” “At that moment of your death, insight arose for you; this web, though unreal in nature, appears to abide in the portion of consciousness as if it were real. Just as, in the moment of a dream, a sequence of a hundred years may pass; just as, in the creation of imagination, life and death occur again and again—just as, in the city of the Gandharvas, there are walls, halls, and chambers; just as, in the commotion of a boat journey, there appear trees and mountains; just as, when one’s own bodily humors are disturbed, the city and mountains appear to dance; just as, in a dream, one may see oneself cutting off one’s own head—in this way, this powerful delusion, taking many forms, is entirely false. In reality, you have never been born nor have you ever died.” “You are of the nature of pure consciousness, abiding in peace within yourself; you appear to see all this, yet in truth you see nothing at all. By your very nature, you always shine forth as the Self within the Self, like a great, noble jewel or radiant light. In reality, this earth-seat does not exist, nor do you exist as this; these mountains and villages are not here, nor are we truly here at all.” “For the mountain-village brahmin, in the open space of the pavilion, this world appears as a splendid play of royal sovereignty. There, the royal pavilion of play, adorned in form, shines; within its inner space, this entire world of yours is spread out. In whatever world, in whatever house, within which we now stand—so, for those pavilions, the space within is pure space alone. In those pavilions, there is neither earth nor city; there are no forests, nor clusters of mountains, nor clouds, rivers, or oceans. Only people dwell there in emptiness within their homes; they do not see the world, nor earthly beings, nor mountains.” The king, still seeking understanding, asked, “If it is so, then how, O Devi, are these attendants of mine here with me? Are they established in themselves, or do they depend on the self?” Sarasvati replied, “The world appears like a dream there; in the dream, there are no new mountains. How can what is true in the self be real, and what is untrue not be? Tell me.” Thus, through the grace of the goddess and the awakening of insight, the king beheld the illusory nature of the world, the play of consciousness, and the peace of his true Self shining ever undisturbed.