Listen to the tale as revealed in the sacred verses. In the unfolding of creation, there arose a being named Viṣūcikā, known as the needle-like one. With a subtle and deceptive illusion, she was destined to bring harm to all the worlds. Her afflictions would be felt especially by those who ate poorly, undertook difficult tasks, acted foolishly or with instability, dwelled in unsuitable places, or behaved recklessly. Viṣūcikā would enter the heart through the life-breaths, piercing the spleen and other organs, manifesting as a disease of wind—a subtle line, almost imperceptible, yet potent. She would approach people indiscriminately, whether virtuous or not; but for the virtuous, a mantra was revealed for their healing. Far to the north of the Himalayas dwelled a demoness named Karkati, also called Viṣūcikā, a maiden who obstructed righteousness. To counter her, one must recite the great mantra and place it in the left side of the belly, gently stroking the patient with composure. As this is done, one should envision Karkati, shrieking harshly, fleeing toward the Himalayas, crushed by the mantra’s power as if pounded to dust. The patient is to be visualized as situated within the moon, in a lake of elixir—ageless, deathless, and liberated from all diseases and disturbances. The practitioner, purified and inwardly calm, with focused mind, gradually destroys all forms of Viṣūcikā by this method. Thus, the Lord of the three worlds, traversing the sky, having perfected the mantra received from the accomplished ones of the sky and honored by Indra and others, returned to his own imperishable, supreme, and radiant city. Now, behold the form of the demoness herself. Karkati, the great black demoness, shone like the peak of a cat’s-eye gem. Poised to become thin, she appeared as a streak of lampblack cloud. She transformed into the shape of a tree, then abandoned that form to become the size of a man, then the size of a hand, then a span, then a finger, then a grain of lentil, and finally, a needle. She attained the state of a silken needle, beautiful like the filament of a lotus, standing upright and resembling the peak of a mountain of thought. The black needle shone, smooth and flawless, coiled by the subtle body, moving through the sky, carried by the wind. Though visible, it was not made of iron—it was only a play of consciousness, appearing as a needle in a dream. Smooth as a jeweled needle, joined with the mind’s imagination, beautiful as a line of beryl’s radiance, graceful as a string of rods, she was like a tendril of a black-lotus stamen carried by the wind, with a tiny, clear aperture, as if a pupil of the sky—subtle and transparent to sight. With a thread grasped by its own tip, a smooth tail and shining point, she became visible for the sake of vast tranquility, entering a supreme vow of silence. Seen from afar like a lamp, she attained the state of pure being; from a distance, her charming mouth seemed to utter forth into the sky. With eyes half-closed, she resembled a delicate lamp-flame, her hair soft as silk, her forehead moist from a recent bath, appearing as a playful young woman. Her thread, rising like a lotus-fiber out of curiosity for the world outside, was poised like the chief channel, beautiful as a moonbeam extending outward. Her senses restrained, her own life-force seemed to move outward, unnoticed like the stream of awareness in a Buddhist ascetic. Her understanding, subtle as the doctrine of emptiness, was like a faint breath of wind through a crevice, or a needle with its light nearly gone—sharp yet imperceptible. She had been pointed out for the sake of being seized, but he did not make use of her; she herself did not consider this—thus ignorance reveals itself. With the tip of the needle, she reflected not on its emptiness, but simply gazed at her own mental intention, sitting at ease. Without any reflection, the needle’s purpose was desired by her dull mind; for one whose mind is scattered among various objects, prior and subsequent reasoning does not arise. Even a thing capable and effective takes on a different nature through imagination, just as a mirror filled with desired forms is altered by a breath. For this rakshasi, who had assumed the form of a needle and abandoned her ample body, even great death was experienced as perfectly pleasant. Indeed, how difficult is the fate of those attached to a single object! The rakshasi, by her own will, cast off her body as if it were mere straw. Other minds perish through excessive pride in a single object; but the rakshasi, proud of her power to devour, did not even notice the destruction of her body. Even destruction brings pleasure to the ignorant who are excessively attached to one thing; the rakshasi, though bodiless and needle-formed, remained entirely satisfied. Another entity became attached to that needle, thus arose the living needle: of the nature of space, formless, with the activity of space as her body. She appeared as a stream of radiant threads, her essence made of vital threads, having the form of a sharp pain, beautiful like a sunbeam shining through that aperture. She was like a separate edge of a sword, or a row of atoms; like a streak of floral fragrance, assuming the form of subtle art. She was of sinful nature, a movement of mind, and thus remained there, intent on the ultimate reality of piercing the state of another’s life. In this way, her body arose, composed of two needles, slender like the husk of wild rice, delicate as a strand of cotton. With that double needle form, she entered the hearts of men, piercing them; then, fierce, she wandered in all ten directions. By the force of her own intention, she became light or heavy; abandoning her fierce crab-like form, she assumed the state of a needle. Even a trivial thing becomes highly coveted by those of little strength; the needle-like ghosthood was attained by the demoness through austerity. Thus is the story of Viṣūcikā, the needle-like affliction, and Karkati, the demoness whose subtle form pierces the hearts of beings, carried by wind and mind, traversing the worlds through the mysterious play of consciousness.