Listen, O noble one, to the nature of this worldly illusion. It is a form that has gained the seeming hardness of diamond throughout the three worlds—though it is truly ignorance, it appears as if what is unreal is real. Out of compassion, let me again describe the true essence of this illusion, this dancer upon the stage of the three worlds, so that true understanding may arise within you. O great soul, another doubt has arisen in your heart: Did that noble King Lavaṇa truly encounter such a calamity? And, when the body and the embodied self remain joined and unharmed, who among them is the true experiencer of worldly life, enjoying alone the fruits of good and evil? Having brought upon Lavaṇa that supreme misfortune, who was it that departed, restless from the beginning—who indeed was that master of illusion? Understand, O stainless one, that the body is like a wooden wall—insubstantial, imagined by the mind much like a world seen in a dream. It is the mind, endowed with the power of consciousness, that attains the state of the living; know, O wise one, that it is the transmigrator, forever restless like a young monkey. Indeed, it is the mind that acts within the body, taking on various forms as the bearer of the body; it is called by many names: ego, mind, and life-force. For that mind—whether unawakened or fully awakened—pleasures and pains, endless in number, do not truly belong to the body. The unawakened mind, imagining various distinctions, pursues countless and diverse activities and assumes forms of every kind. As long as one has not awakened, the sleep of ignorance persists; in that state, one perceives confusion in dreams, but never upon awakening. In the same way, as long as the living being is afflicted by the sleep of ignorance and has not awakened, he perceives the bewildering and incomprehensible turmoil of worldly existence. But when the mind is fully awakened, all darkness dissolves, just as the closed lotus opens in the daylight and its blindness disappears. Those who identify themselves with mind, ignorance, mental being, place of residence, karma, and self are called embodied beings acquainted with suffering. The inert body does not suffer; it is the living being who suffers due to lack of discernment. This lack of discernment arises from dense ignorance, and ignorance is the root of all suffering. The living being, attached to the domains of virtuous and unvirtuous actions, by this one fault of indiscrimination, does not reach the supreme state. The mind, afflicted by the disease of indiscrimination and possessed of various tendencies, wanders in diverse forms of play, revolving endlessly like a wheel. It arises, cries, kills, eats, goes, leaps, and rejoices; it is only the mind in this body that does so, never the body itself. Just as a householder dwells in his house, a charioteer in his chariot, or a serpent in its hole, so the mind abides within the body. As wind moves restlessly among unmoving trees, so the mind stirs within the body, though the body itself never enters the mind. In all experiences of pleasure and pain, and in every thought, the mind is the doer and the enjoyer; know the mind as the true person. Now, listen as I tell you this marvelous story—how Lavaṇa, through a delusion of mind, came to become a chandāla. The mind experiences the fruits of actions, whether good or bad; understand this well, O Rāghava. Once, Lavaṇa of the Harishchandra lineage, sinless and noble, sat alone and pondered deeply in his mind for a long time. He thought, “My grandfather was great, the priest of the rājasūya sacrifice; I was born in his line, and I perform that sacrifice in my mind.” Thus resolving, he gathered all the necessary materials in his mind and entered the initiation for the rājasūya sacrifice. He worshipped the priests, honored the noble sages, saluted the deities, and kindled the sacred fire. As the sacrificer’s mind dwelled in the sacred grove, a year passed, filled with the worship of gods, sages, and the twice-born. Having given all his wealth as gifts to beings and to the twice-born ancestors, the king awoke at the end of the day in his own grove. In this way, King Lavaṇa attained the Rājasūya sacrifice, for his mind, being strong, was united with its result. Therefore, know the mind to be the experiencer of pleasure and pain in a person; in that beginningless, effortless reality, establish yourself, O Rāghava. When the mind is full, the person is fulfilled; when it is lost, he perishes. But those who are convinced “I am the body”—the wise have no use for them. When the mind is full of discernment and truly awakened, all sorrows vanish for one whose understanding is clear—just as when the sun’s rays shine in a lotus pond, the darkness of contraction and dullness, long present, is dispelled. Lavaṇa attained the fruit of the Rājasūya sacrifice, O lord of the field; yet what proof can there be in this web of imagination? When Shambarika arrived at the assembly of Lavaṇa at the appointed time, I was present there and witnessed it directly. After Shambarika entered, I, along with the other members of the assembly, earnestly questioned Lavaṇa about what had happened. Having reflected and observed what was spoken there, listen, O Rama, and I will tell you what happened concerning Shambarika. Those who perform the Rājasūya sacrifice experience twelve years of adversity and suffering, afflicted by various misfortunes. Therefore, O Rama, Indra sent a divine messenger in the form of Shambarika from the heavens to bring distress upon Lavaṇa. Having inflicted great calamity upon the performer of the Rājasūya rite, he departed along his celestial path, attended by gods and siddhas.