When discernment fails, what is unreal appears as real—just as silver seems to gleam within a shell, or water shimmers in a desert mirage. Yet, when closely observed, the nonexistence of what is not truly there becomes clear; when left unexamined, it flashes before us, like the illusion of water that dances over hot sands. The unreal, though it may seem to act as a cause and appear stable, is ultimately like a ghoul’s phantom—it leads only to the downfall of those who are ignorant. Consider gold: apart from its goldness, nothing else truly exists in it. Similarly, in oil or in bubbles on sand, there is only the fleeting nature of a wave or a bubble—no enduring substance. In this world, there is neither absolute truth nor falsehood; whatever appears acts according to its own seeming nature, much like the unpredictable changes in a child’s game of dice. Whether a thing is real or unreal, whatever is firmly held in the heart brings forth its effects, just as poison or nectar does. This supreme ignorance is māyā itself—the endless cycle of existence, arising from the baseless contemplation of ‘I-ness’ in what is not real. Gold never takes on the qualities of a worm, nor does the Self possess the attributes of ‘I-ness.’ When ‘I-ness’ is absent, the supreme, clear, peaceful, and equal essence alone remains. There is no eternal nature, no creator-nature, no cosmic egg-nature, nor any nature belonging to gods or others. There is no true nature of other worlds, nor of creation anywhere; there is no nature of Meru, sky, mind, or body. The great elements have no inherent nature, nor does any cause; there is no calculation of seasons, nor any true nature of existence or nonexistence. There is no nature of ‘you,’ ‘I,’ ‘self,’ ‘that,’ existence or nonexistence; nowhere is there any calculation of difference, nor any coloring by being or nonbeing. All is peaceful, unsupported, pure consciousness—clear, eternal, auspicious, free from affliction, without appearance, name, or cause. It is neither existence nor non-existence, neither middle nor end; it is not all, yet it is entirely all. It cannot be grasped by mind or speech, being neither void nor non-void, and is supremely eternal. “O great Brahman,” I have now realized all this, yet tell me again—what is this that appears as creation? The supreme peace, the highest, remains as both ‘this’ and ‘that’; here, there is never any creation, nor even the notion of creation at any time. Just as water remains in the ocean, so too in the supreme state; water, by its liquidity, seems to move, but the supreme state is utterly unmoving. As light shines in itself, so that state neither shines nor does not shine; what shines is called ‘shining,’ but the supreme is known as non-shining. Leaving aside above and below, just as water stirs within the ocean, so from supreme consciousness this manifold world appears—yet it is nothing but that supreme. By the slightest movement, consciousness appears as if it is other; this alone is called creation, and from peace it subsides into the eternal. Creation is merely a designation for the highest reality—this is the conclusion; it is neither absent nor present within, just as space is within space. Through the mind, creation arises; through absence of mind, creation dissolves. In the supreme, utterly tranquil, the illusion of creation is like a bracelet imagined in gold. Though creation appears, it becomes non-creation when the sense of ownership is relinquished; the unreal attains reality when self-awareness arises from itself. Awareness is the arising of the sense of ‘I’ and the confusion of creation; know that non-awareness is the supreme peace—not inertness. By this, creation is not manifold, nor is this manifold; the knower is one, of the nature of auspiciousness—like an army crafted from clay, whether shaped in a book or by the hands of craftsmen. This is complete, without beginning, infinite, and without arising; in the complete, the complete stands established from the very beginning, even as other completions arise. Whatever is perceived as creation, that is Brahman, abiding in Brahman; as space rests in space, peace in peace, auspiciousness in auspiciousness. As a city reflected in a mirror appears within the mirror to the people, so, in the Lord, nearness and distance, this and not-this, are all established. The universe arises from the unreal, and even when it appears real, it is always only an appearance; because it is only a semblance, it is essentially unreal. In this creation, which resembles a city reflected in a mirror, the shimmer of water in a mirage, or the illusion of seeing two moons—where is any true reality? Just as the scattering of magical powder conjures the illusion of a city in the sky, so within consciousness, the essence and non-essence of samsara appear. As long as ignorance, with its dense branches and thickets, is not completely burned away at the root by the fire of inquiry, it continues to produce various forests of pleasure and pain. Listen, O Raghava, to how the dissolution of ignorance, which is woven like a wave of gold and is false, takes place, and how the sense of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ fades away. That king, Lavana, having witnessed such confusion, set out on the second day to enter that great forest. The suffering he had seen in that wilderness lingered in his memory; sometimes it would appear in the mirror of his mind, and at other times, it was experienced anew. Having resolved thus with his ministers, he journeyed southward, and again, for the sake of conquest, reached the Vindhya mountains. Driven by curiosity, he wandered over the entire land along the shores of the great ocean—east, south, and west—like the path of the sun across the sky. Then, in one place, he saw ahead of him that wild forest, rising like a wall, as if it were the very threshold of the next world. Roaming everywhere, he saw and observed all those various events, and having understood them, he was filled with amazement. He also recognized the hunters, the outcaste Pukkasas, standing before him, and with a mind overwhelmed by wonder, he wandered on, bewildered by all he had seen.