O Raghava, when questions of deep doubt arose, I explained everything to him with clear reasoning, revealing the true nature of things. As I spoke, his uncertainty was swept from his heart, just as the wind scatters away a heavy cloud. This, I told him, is the power of ignorance—it is a great delusion that swiftly makes the unreal seem real, and the real seem unreal, binding beings in confusion. He asked, “O Brahman, how is it that a dream can attain reality? This matter burdens my mind with confusion and will not settle.” I answered: all such questions arise from ignorance, just as one might mistakenly see cloth in a pot, or become bewildered by the shifting images of a dream. In this way, the mind’s delusion creates confusion between what is and what is not. Sometimes, that which is far away appears near, like a distant mountain reflected in a mirror, and what is long seems brief, as a night does to a youth in love. In dreams, the impossible becomes possible—one may even witness one’s own death, or fly through the sky, all seeming perfectly real. What is steady appears to move, just as the earth seems to spin before our eyes; the weak becomes strong, like a mind whirled by intoxication. Whatever the mind, colored by its own impressions, imagines intensely, that it quickly experiences; yet such experiences are neither truly real nor wholly unreal. When ignorance arises—consisting of ego and its companions—then, in that very moment, a delusion that has no beginning, end, or middle appears to stretch out infinitely. By the sheer force of appearances, everything seems to change: a single moment may feel like an aeon, and an aeon may pass like a moment. When the mind becomes inverted, a creature may fall into any state; by the force of its impressions, even a timid deer may assume the nature of a lion. Poison, delusion, intoxication, ignorance, confusion, ego, and all such things are alike; they arise from the mind’s distortions and bring about the results that follow. Just as in the tale of the crow and the palm fruit, so too, by the momentum of mental impressions, great undertakings and interactions arise of their own accord. Whatever was experienced before—even something as small as the salt of a king in a previous birth—may reappear to this one, whether good or bad, as conceived in the mind. The mind may forget even great actions it has performed, yet it may remember things never done as though they truly happened. Thus, one may think, “I have eaten,” or “I have not eaten,” and even experience journeys to distant lands in a dream, though none of it has actually occurred. In the same way, the prince’s interactions with the village of Vindhya and Pukkasa are of such a kind—arising as a dream, like stories remembered from the past. Or, the illusion seen in a dream by Lavana has swiftly entered the awareness of Vindhya and Pukkasa. The awareness of Vindhya and Pukkasa has arisen in the mind of the prince, just as the speech and faces of many people may appear similar to one another. Even a dream, I explained, has its own time, place, and action; and within its context, its existence is apparent through its manifestation. Truly, the existence of all objects is nothing but awareness; within awareness alone, the diverse succession of creation appears. Just as a tree exists within its seed in past, present, and future forms, so too, its existence and non-existence are established as neither wholly being nor non-being. For only existence is present in awareness; in the absence of awareness, nothing composed of being remains. There is no ignorance at all, just as there is no oil in sand. How could gold ever be bitter? That would be something other than gold itself. The pure self, by its very nature, can never be connected with ignorance. Connection among similar things is clear and gives rise to experience, but the connection between things like resin and wood is not so—and thus, there is no true connection between the self and ignorance. There is no other self that experiences another; there is only a single, underlying reality. All is of the nature of the highest truth, and all distinctions arise from that alone. Awareness, by the force of connection, perceives itself as manifold, though all things in the world are composed only of pure consciousness and pure being. Then these entities appear, each established in its own experience; but there is no continuous connection among dissimilar things. Without mutual connection, there is no experience of one another; similar things, upon meeting, instantly become one. A single form manifests only because of oneness, not otherwise; when consciousness and awareness unite, the appearance of the seen arises as cognition. When the inert joins with the inert, it becomes dense inertness; but due to their difference, unity between consciousness and inertness never occurs anywhere. If consciousness and inertness are together in one place, they are never truly united; for consciousness is of the nature of awareness, and awareness arises only from consciousness. Wood and stone are distinct, and neither is of the nature of consciousness; an object is experienced and transformed only by another object. Just as taste is perceived by the tongue and arises from its own kind, so too, unity and connection do not exist between what is substantial and what is insubstantial. Therefore, unity does not arise between the inert and the conscious; what is considered inert is actually consciousness alone, appearing as stones, walls, and the like, united with consciousness. When it attains oneness, the seer and the seen and all such distinctions become confused; when all—wood, stones, and everything—are truly of the nature of the highest reality, then, being connected within itself, it is perceived as the seen; all, in every form and manner, is spread out as if infinite. Know, O best among those who know the truth, that this universe is nothing but existence; even what is unreal, dear one, appears as the universe through countless illusions of universal forms. When consciousness is filled with wonder, nothing else is truly filled; the city of imagination among people appears mutually, but not as it truly is. Thus, all creations are established within consciousness—not for the awareness of space and time, but because the very perception of difference is itself creation, arising from the delusion of ego and the like.