Vasistha, the wise sage, addressed Rama with deep insight, inviting him to reflect: “Whose, how, and from where do all these cherished notions of the mind arise? Remain undisturbed—without beginning or end, unfettered by any limitation. Relying on supreme effort and the sharpest discernment, one must uproot entirely, down to the very root, the conception of desire for enjoyment from the mind. For what arises as the supreme delusion—the very cause of old age and death—is the latent tendency that flourishes, binding the heart with countless threads of hope. It is this subtle tendency that makes the mind leap about, thinking, ‘My sons, my wealth, I am this, this is mine,’ just as a magician conjures illusions. In this body, which is itself empty, the sense of ‘I’ is cast by ignorance and lingering impressions, wavering like the wind in a hollow space. Truly, O knower of reality, enough of ‘mine’, ‘I’, and ‘this’—apart from the essence of the Self, nothing else truly exists. With the perception of creation, this same manifold ignorance revolves again and again, causing mountain ranges, continents, and peaks to appear and reappear in endless cycles. All this arises merely from ignorance and ceases with knowledge; it is limited only by consciousness, just as a snake imagined on a rope vanishes with the dawn of true seeing. This earth, with its mountains and rivers, is knowledge itself for the knower, O Rama; it is not ignorance for him, for Brahman simply abides in its own greatness. Both rope and snake are imagined by ignorance, but through knowledge, only one remains—the pure vision of Brahman, uncontrived and true. Do not remain ignorant; become a knower. Abandon the tendencies that bind you to worldly existence. Why do you grieve, as if you were someone else, identifying with what is not the Self? What is this inert, mute body to you, O Raghava, for whose sake you are helplessly tossed between pleasure and pain? Just as there is no true unity between wood and resin, or between two berry vessels even when joined together, so too, between body and embodied being, there is no oneness. Just as the fire in a bellows does not touch the air within, so too, when the body perishes, the Self remains untouched. ‘I am unhappy, I am full of happiness’—such delusion, O descendant of Raghu, torments the mind, and this suffering is hard to overcome. By this false, harmful, and mind-inflating notion—this bringer of sorrow, blinded by the great impurity of delusion—even when the moon’s disk is moist with nectar, if one imagines it as the hell of Raurava, one experiences burning and torment as if truly in hell. In lakes with cool waves, adorned with garlands of lotuses, the greatness of a mirage can be perceived. In dreams and similar states, the mind experiences the excitement of building cities in the sky, of falling and flying, giving rise to many pleasures and pains. If the mind’s inclination toward worldly existence is not fulfilled, then the agitations of waking and dreaming bring no harm. Raurava, Avīci, and other hells, with their domains of suffering, are seen to increase even in celestial groves and heavenly regions when false knowledge prevails. When the mind is pierced by this ignorance, even a fiber of a lotus thread seems to whirl with the bewildering ocean of worldly existence. When afflicted thus, even while established in sovereignty, a person may fall into states not fit even for outcastes. Therefore, O Rama, abandoning the tendency that binds you to worldly existence, remain composed in all states, unattached, like a crystal. While you engage in your duties, let no coloring of attachment arise—just as a crystal, though reflecting many images, remains itself unchanged. If, with a mind free from curiosity and attachment, you always act in the world playfully, with noble understanding, performing only natural actions—then, to what can your greatness be compared? Thus addressed by the venerable and great-souled Vasistha, Rama, whose eyes were like lotus petals, appeared as if awakened from a deep slumber. His inner being blossomed with radiant light, reassured as the darkness faded, like a lotus opening to the sun. With a gentle smile of wonder and awakening, his face shone bright as if bathed in the nectar-beams of the moon, and he spoke: “Ah, how marvelous! Mountains are bound by threads spun from lotus stalks—by this ignorance, which does not truly exist, all are brought under its sway. This is that form which has attained the hardness of diamond in the three worlds—though it is only ignorance, it appears as if the real exists as the unreal. Out of compassion, please describe again the true nature of this worldly illusion—this dancer upon the stage of the three worlds—so that true understanding may arise. And, O great soul, another doubt arises in my heart: Did that noble Lavana truly encounter such a calamity? When two—the body and the embodied self—are joined and unharmed, O Brahman, who among them is the experiencer of worldly existence, enjoying the fruits of good and evil alone? Having thus brought upon Lavana that supreme misfortune, who was it that departed, restless from the beginning—who indeed was that master of illusion? The body, O stainless one, is like a wooden wall, as if it were nothing at all; it is conceived by this mind, like a world seen in a dream. But the mind, endowed with the power of consciousness, attains the state of the living; know, O wise one, that it is the transmigrator—restless as a young monkey. Indeed, it is the mind that acts within the body, assuming various forms as the bearer of the body; it is described by the names ego, mind, and life-force. For that mind—whether unawakened or fully awakened, O Raghava—pleasures and pains, endless in number, do not truly belong to the body. The unawakened mind, imagining various designations, follows manifold and diverse activities, assuming forms of every kind.