On this day, when one awakens and seeks to understand the true nature of existence, he perceives the cycles of the world just as they are, through his own experience. O revered Brahman, there are ten Brāhmaṇas of Brahmā, and these ten worlds of transmigration are established in the sky of the mind. Among them, I am one—the sky-temple—while the sun on earth is engaged in the workings of time and its divisions. Thus, O lotus-born, I have described to you the creation of the ten Brāhmaṇas and their origin in the sky. Now, act as you wish. All this highest world, with its myriad imaginations and veiled sky, which has arisen and been enchanted by a net of rays, is entirely a play of your own mind. Having declared, “O Brāhmaṇa, the sun is of Brahman,” and “O Brahman, he is mine,” that best of knowers of Brahman then became silent. After pondering deeply in my mind, I asked him, “O Sun, O radiant one, speak quickly—what else should I create? There are said to be ten worlds already—what further purpose is there for me in creation? Tell me, O Sun.” For you, O Lord, who are without desire and without intention, what need is there for creation? This creation is merely a diversion for you, O Lord of the universe. Indeed, your creation arises only from absence of desire—just as water reflects the sun, or as the mind reflects an image. When attachment to bodily form is abandoned, and passion and opinion are relinquished, O Blessed One, the desireless mind neither craves nor rejects. Then, O Lord of beings, you create this world only for diversion, repeatedly manifesting and dissolving it, just as the sun brings forth and withdraws the day. For you, it is always solely for unattached play that this is done—this world is not made from intense desire, but simply because it is to be done. You do not create the world as a personal daily activity; by abandoning obligatory action, what new result could you possibly attain? One should always perform what is to be done as it arises, without attachment, like a spotless mirror reflecting images. Just as a wise person has no desire when performing action, so too, the wise have no desire when not acting. Therefore, with a disposition like dreamless sleep, free from desire, act as situations arise, whether in waking or sleeping states. O Lord, the world finds satisfaction through the creations of the mind-born sons of the moon; thus, these creations will bring them satisfaction, but not you, O Lord of gods. You perceive these creations with the eye of the mind, not with the physical eye; who, not seeing with the eye, can know that creation has arisen? By the very mind with which creation was fashioned, O Supreme Lord, that alone perceives it through the physical eye, not otherwise. No one is able to destroy these ten cycles of worldly existence, born of the dust of the senses, for they persist long due to the firmness of the mind. What is done by the organs of action can indeed be restrained, but no one is able to restrain what is determined by the mind. O Brahman, the resolve that has become firmly established in a person's mind cannot be undone except by that very resolve itself, not by any other means. Whatever has been practiced in the mind with strong determination for a long time does not perish, even by a curse, nor even when the body is destroyed. Whatever form is firmly seated in the mind, a person here indeed becomes that and nothing else; apart from awakening to this truth, I consider all other methods as fruitless as trying to move a mountain. It is heard that long ago, O Deva, there was a king among the Magadhas named Indradyumna, renowned like another Indradyumna. His wife, named Ahalya, was lotus-eyed and radiant, resembling the moon’s disc, like Rohini to the moon. In that very city, there was a powerful and wealthy young Brahmin named Indra, also known by that name. Once, during a conversation, Queen Ahalya heard that in former times she had been desired by Indra. Upon hearing this, Ahalya became enamored with Indra and, filled with longing, wondered why that Indra did not approach her. She suffered greatly, lying on beds of lotus stalks, lotus fiber, and banana leaves, like a young girl scorched in the forest after her creepers have been cut. Weary amidst all those royal luxuries, she was like a fish tossed about on dry land, tormented by the summer heat. Her mind disturbed, she kept repeating, “This is Indra, this is Indra,” and in her agitation, she even abandoned her sense of shame. Seeing her so afflicted and deeply attached, her friend said, “Dear one, without delay, I will bring Indra to you.” Hearing these words, her eyes blossomed and she fell at her friend’s feet like a lotus at the feet of a lotus. When the day had passed and night had come, that friend went to the prince named Indra. After properly awakening him, she quickly brought the prince Indra to Ahalya’s side during the night. Then, adorned with many garlands and perfumes, Ahalya enjoyed union with that passionate Mahendra in a certain hidden chamber. At that time, she, the young woman, was captivated by him, who was adorned with a charming necklace and armlets, just as a vine is drawn to the taste of honey. Being attached to him, she saw the world as filled with him alone; she did not regard her husband, though he was endowed with countless virtues.