Having spoken these words, I—so resolved to end my suffering—was on the verge of casting myself onto the funeral pyre. But in that very moment, O King, I tumbled down from this very throne. Suddenly, surrounded by the resounding thunder of drums and shouts of victory, I awoke as if from a deep sleep, my senses and awareness abruptly restored. It was then that I understood: by the power of Shambarika, I had been plunged into a profound delusion, just as a living being is enshrouded by ignorance and wanders through countless states of existence. Thus, I have recounted to you the story of my own experience, just as the sage Markandeya once narrated the endless sufferings of a cosmic age to the kings of the gods. When the illustrious King Lavana had finished speaking in this way, Shambarika vanished from sight in an instant. All those assembled were left astounded, their minds filled with wonder. They looked at one another, their eyes wide as lotus petals, and exclaimed, “Ah! How marvelous and extraordinary is this illusion! Who indeed is this so-called Shambarika, and where has he vanished?” They reflected in awe, “Truly, the powers of the Creator are wondrous and manifold. Even a discerning mind is bewildered by such illusion. This king, so wise in the affairs of the world—where is he now? And what are these great confusions, seemingly fit only for ordinary minds?” They pondered further, “Nor is this illusion, which arose from Shambarika, merely a delusion in the mind; for these so-called Shambarikas are always intent on gain. They strive ceaselessly for wealth and do not simply vanish. Thus, we too are tossed about, caught in the swing of doubt.” O Rama, at that time I myself was present in that assembly. What I saw then was witnessed directly by me, not merely heard from another. Therefore, O great-souled one, direct your own mind—which has grown restless through excessive imagination—toward tranquility. When you attain peace in your true nature, you will reach that supreme, pure state. In the beginning, O Rama, due to a cause beyond, consciousness falls into the duality of subject and object, entering the realm of imagination. From this, further imaginations of impurity arise. Thus, in the delusions of unreal things, the mind behaves in such ways that it becomes insignificant, lost amidst dense illusions for a long time. The mind’s tendency toward unreality may weaken, yet it spreads widely, bringing suffering with countless faults, much like a child tormented by a Vetala spirit. Even what is real, for a moment, can lead to great suffering by giving rise to unreality; but a pure mental tendency dispels darkness like the rising sun. The mind brings what is near to a distance and what is distant to nearness, leaping among beings like a child among young birds. For the ignorant one, whose mind is filled with tendencies, fear arises from what is fearless; a bewildered traveler, seeing from afar, mistakes a tree for a demon. The mind, stained by impurity, suspects enmity in a friend; a creature whose intellect is clouded by intoxication, wandering, perceives the earth as spinning. When the mind is deeply disturbed, it imagines lightning in the moon; even nectar, consumed with the disposition of poison, becomes poisonous in effect. The mind, colored by its tendencies, perceives the construction of cities and towns as real, though they are unreal; indeed, even in waking, it experiences dreams. The sole cause of delusion in a being is the forceful impression of the mind; this must be diligently uprooted, cut off at the root. Drawn by the snare of impressions, the mind of people—like a deer—falls helplessly into the thicket of worldly existence. When, through discernment, the impressions of a living being are destroyed, his inner light shines forth, like the sun in a cloudless sky. Therefore, know that it is only the mind that is the person, not the body. The body is inert, but the mind is neither inert nor non-inert, as the wise understand. Whatever is done by the mind, O Rama, know that as truly done; whatever is abandoned by the mind, O Raghava, know that as truly abandoned. The entire world is only mind: the mountains are mind, the sky is mind, the earth is mind, the wind is mind, and the great elements themselves are mind. If the mind does not associate an object with its own conception, then even the sun and the stars never appear as luminous. The mind alone takes up delusion; he whose mind does so is called deluded. When the body is deluded, it is not said to be deluded—just as a corpse is not called deluded. The mind sees when it takes on the nature of the eye, hears when it assumes the state of the ear, becomes the sense of touch through contact, and attains the sense of smell by sniffing. Through tasting, it becomes the sense of taste; in all these various functions, it is the mind alone that acts within the body, just as an actor performs many roles in a play. The mind makes things light or long, brings about existence or nonexistence, turns sweetness into bitterness, and transforms an enemy into a friend. Whatever appearance arises in this mind, which operates through its functions, that alone is truly perceived here, due to the experience of the subtle elements. By the power of appearances alone, a single night for Harischandra, whose mind was absorbed in dream objects, became as long as twelve years. Through the influence of mental experience, an age became a mere moment for Indradyumna, who dwelled within the city of Brahma. By a delightful mental disposition, even the hell called Raurava becomes happiness; bondage feels like royal sovereignty to one who knows he will be freed in the morning. When the mind is conquered, all the senses are conquered as well—just as a pearl necklace falls apart when its thread is burned. All this is witnessed by the subtle, ever-present power of consciousness, which remains everywhere in its own form, unchanging and constant. With the essence of Rama’s self, which follows all states and is not divided by objects of cognition, even the mute and inert body becomes like consciousness itself.