O King, my heart is ever enchanted by the doe-eyed beloved, for wherever I look, in every direction, I see only her. Her presence fills my mind with delight, and never, whether for a moment or for a long time, do I perceive any sorrow arising from the pleasures we share. Then, after Indra had spoken thus, the lotus-eyed king turned to the sage Bharata, who was seated nearby, and addressed him respectfully: “Venerable sage, knower of all dharma, do you not see the audacity of this wicked man who has openly taken my wife? O great sage, I ask you—give him a curse befitting his sin. For those who cannot be punished by ordinary means, only destruction through death is fitting.” Hearing these words from the lion among kings, the noble sage Bharata swiftly contemplated the true nature of the sinner’s misdeed. He then pronounced a curse: “You, corrupted in mind and overcome by betrayal of the husband, together with this evildoer, go to destruction.” And by the force of Bharata’s curse, both—the wicked man and the woman, bound by their attachment—fell to the earth, like two leaves shaken from a tree. Bound to misfortune, they were reborn as deer. Still attached to one another, they were born again as birds. In the present creation, O Lord, a brahmin couple has emerged, both deeply devoted to ascetic practice, bound together by mutual intention, and supremely virtuous. Indeed, O Lord, Bharata’s curse affected only their bodies, not the restraint of their minds. From that time until now, due to the influence of bodily tendencies, wherever they are born, those two always become husband and wife. Their pure and natural affection, infused with the very essence of love, is so evident that even the trees, touched by the nectar of their bond, are stirred with gestures of romance. Therefore, O venerable sage, I declare what has arisen in my mind: the mind is ungraspable and impenetrable, not subdued even by powerful curses. The destruction of the lunar race or the order of creation is not appropriate, O Brahman; such acts do not befit the great-souled. What in this or any world could bring misery to you, O Lord, or to the Lord of lords, who is great-souled? For it is the mind that creates worlds; the mind is said to be the person. What is done by the mind is truly accomplished in the world—not what is done by the body. That which is determined by the mind cannot be destroyed by substances, medicines, or punishments, just as a reflection in a jewel cannot be removed. Therefore, let these beings remain here, amidst the brilliant commotion of creation; you, having created them, abide in the space of intelligence, O endless one. The space of mind, the space of consciousness, and the third, physical space—these three are infinite, all revealed by the light of consciousness. O creator, make one, two, or many creations as you wish; abide in your own will—what is gained for you by the Indras? When the radiant one spoke thus about the net of the world, I reflected for a long time and replied: “What you say is fitting, O radiant one. The sky is vast, the mind is vast, and the space of consciousness is also expansive. Thus, as desired, I perform the act of creation always; I quickly imagine many hosts of beings, O sun. Therefore, you yourself, O blessed one, quickly become the first Manu here; create the world as you wish, prompted by me.” Then, that radiant one, Prabhākara, accepted my words and, being the foremost among those who burn, made himself twofold. With one form, he became the sun in his previous body and, moving along the path of the sky, spread forth the succession of days in creation. With his second form, assuming my own nature in an instant, he produced the entire creation, extending it as I desired. Whatever arises in his mind, that alone comes forth clearly, and its stability and fruition are manifest. Ordinary Brahmins, by the power of imagination, truly attained the state of Brahman just as the lunar Brahmins did—see the potency of the mind. As those lunar beings attained Brahmanhood through the mind, so too have we, by the nature of consciousness and mind, attained Brahmanhood. The mind is of the nature of imagination, and whatever it imagines appears as the form of body and so on; there is no perceiver of the body apart from this. Mind is the wonder of the Self, and it marvels at itself; whatever arises, arises within its own Self, just like a mirage. This, which appears like the mind, is called the ‘vehicle of the elements’; it is also referred to as the dense mass known as the body, moving about. It is spoken of as the mind, bearing the name ‘jīva’, residing in each subtle form. Know that the wondrous body is pacified, and the jīva, step by step, is supreme. Here, neither I nor anything else truly exists—only the mind remains. The consciousness of Vasiṣṭha and Indra has come as existence from nonexistence. Just as Indra’s mind is Brahmā, so too am I established here; all this is made by me, and I alone appear as the essence of resolve. This is a certain play of the mind, established as ‘I am Brahmā’; know that body and the rest are merely the nature of emptiness. By contemplating that pure consciousness is of the nature of the supreme Self alone, the mind becomes a jīva and, taking on the form of the body, perceives it vainly. All this appears like the world of Indra, as the form of consciousness; accomplished through lack of awakening, it is a long dream arising from one’s own power. Like the illusion of seeing two moons, and the confusion of forms of the elements, the mind becomes established as consciousness, as in the case of Indra’s lotus-born. Thus, the story unfolds, revealing the profound play of mind, consciousness, and creation, where love, curse, and imagination weave the fabric of existence.