Time, mysterious and subtle, weaves its own magic upon the world. By its power, what is but a fleeting moment may stretch into years, and for King Harishchandra, a single night became as long as twelve years. For those who are separated from their beloved, or who suffer the pangs of longing, a night can seem to last a year, so greatly does time bend under the influence of the mind’s sorrow. Indeed, happiness and unhappiness color our perception of time itself: to the joyous, time rushes by; to the sorrowful, it drags on endlessly. Thus, time is marked by reversal, appearing to flow differently for each according to their state of mind. Yet, time itself is not truly the agent of these experiences. Just as a lamp appears to be the doer of illumination, but in reality is not, so too does time seem to act, though it merely exists. Consider a painted figure: it may be adorned with hips and breasts, and yet it is not truly a woman, nor does it possess the essence of womanhood. In the same way, this form of time, though it appears to act, is not truly the doer. Like a kingdom imagined in the mind—brilliant in its forms, with countless branches, yet ultimately unreal—so too is this world, with all its apparent diversity, insubstantial at its core. Like a mirage in the forest, dazzling to the bewildered deer but not to the wise, the world’s display deceives only those who are deluded. Like foam that forms and dissolves without real separation, the world is inert at heart, though it appears restless; when grasped, nothing remains. Though not different from pure consciousness, this world appears as something else—like the short thread spun by a worm, inert and yet dependent upon the living. The world is unsteady, turbulent and proud, covered in the dust of passions, swirling like a hurricane at the end of an age, enveloping its own little world. Like smoke clinging to the limbs, causing burning and sweat, she—this power of illusion—moves through the worlds, absorbing their essence into herself. Her flow is long, born of inertia, like the stream of a raincloud; her cord is strong, yet made only of clusters as insubstantial as grass. She is described only in imagination, like a wave or a lotus; full of holes like a lotus stem, heavy with mud, and composed of dullness. She appears as a flame, always intent on growing, yet never truly increasing; sweet at first, like the taste of poison, but ultimately harsh beyond measure. She vanishes like a lamp’s flame, and none can say where she goes; like mist glimpsed from afar, when grasped, she is found to be nothing at all. She spreads out like a handful of dust, observed only as the smallest particles; like a haze in the sky, she is seen though there is no real cause. She arises like the confusion of seeing two moons, or the delusion of a dream; just as a stationary object appears to move when seen from a moving ship, so does she create the illusion of movement and change. When the mind is afflicted by her, people are caught in the bewildering dream of worldly existence for ages, restless and troubled. Even that which is pleasing and true is sometimes seen as real, sometimes as unreal; and what is displeasing and false is sometimes taken as real, sometimes as unreal. When the mind is disturbed by such confusion, countless delusions arise and vanish within it, like waves on the surface of the ocean. This powerful imagination, mounting the chariot of objects, swiftly seizes the mind, just as a net ensnares a bird. Out of compassion, a mother with loving eyes and breasts moist with milk may become wholly absorbed in the joys of her child, drawn into the role of householder. Even the gentle moon, full of nectar and coolness, can become poisonous and threaten the three worlds if it grows too large. Those who are steady as pillars may be made to act like madmen, ghosts, or drunkards; and even those who are mute may speak, when the mind is overtaken by such influence. At twilight and other such times, by the mind’s power, people see snakes where there are only clods of earth, stones, or walls. Just as a single moon appears as two when seen with double vision, or a distant shore seems near in a dream, so does the mind generate illusions. A long period may seem as brief as an instant, as a long night quickly passes; and a moment can stretch into a year, as it does for those separated from their beloved. There is nothing this restless mind does not name or create—yet see, O Raghava, how powerless the mind is when emptied of possessions. Therefore, one should diligently restrain consciousness by consciousness itself; by blocking the flow of awareness, this river of the mind dries up. By what does not truly exist, what is frail and empty, what is called false imagination, this world is wondrously cast into darkness. By what is formless, shapeless, lacking pure awareness, and perishing swiftly, this world is again cast into darkness. By what perishes without light, flickers in the gloom, and sees as an owl does, the world is cast into darkness. By what acts only in harmful ways, cannot bear to be seen, and does not even recognize the body, the world is cast into darkness. Even when following the conduct of the wise, appearing naturally beautiful, ever setting, this power strangely blinds the world. The world is blinded by one who suffers endlessly, led by misguided resolve and lacking true understanding. It is blinded by one whose body is insentient, whose words spread darkness, and whose heart is thick with desire and anger. It is blinded by one who dwells at the edge of the dark well of the self, dulled by inertia and sorrow, lamenting endlessly. It is blinded by one who shatters relationships, is plagued by disease and unbroken illusion, and whose intentions are ever-changing. The man who cannot endure even the sight of such a woman, who is unprotected by her, is strangely blinded. The man is blinded by such a woman, who has no awareness, and who perishes even though she is not destroyed. Thus, O Raghava, the world is ensnared by the illusions of mind and ignorance, wandering in darkness, until the truth is seen.