Radiant with divine splendor, two noble beings walked upon the earth, sanctifying the land with their very feet, much as the sun and moon cleanse the sky with their presence. After these auspicious steps, Bhrigu, the venerable sage, turned to the son of his own former birth and spoke: “Remember yourself, O awakened one, best among the lineage of Raghu. You are not ignorant.” Prompted by Bhrigu’s words, the awakened son closed his eyes in meditation, and for a brief moment, recollected the states and experiences of his countless previous births. When he opened his eyes, his face shone with wonder and his heart was filled with joy. He spoke thoughtfully, his words slow and measured: “Victory to the ever-active power of destiny, belonging to the Supreme Self, by whose command this entire world-wheel turns, full of enjoyment and experience. “My past births are innumerable, unknown to me until now. Each state, filled with its own unique experiences, has come to memory as needed. I have pursued many joys and extraordinary fortunes, and have experienced countless results, stretching across the ends of aeons. I have witnessed the harsh struggles and delusions that come with amassing wealth, and I have wandered freely, without sorrow, even upon the slopes of Meru. “On the banks of the Mandakini, the gods drank fragrant milk tinged red by the blossoms of the heavenly coral tree, along with all manner of delicacies. They wandered among groves of wish-fulfilling trees, amidst blooming golden creepers and tall palms, on Meru’s slopes adorned with celestial shade and flowers. There is nothing that has not been enjoyed, nothing that has not been done, nothing that has not been seen—whether pleasing or unpleasing to the eye. “Now, all that is to be known has been known, all that is to be seen has been seen without harm. Long wearied, I have found rest, and all my delusion has departed. Rise, dear one, let us go and see the body that remains on Mandara, now dried up like a withered forest vine. Here, there is nothing I desire, nor anything I wish to avoid. I simply wander, observing the play of destiny. “Why should I persistently follow that which is esteemed and favored by the noble, with my mind fixed on unity? Let whatever opinions are cherished by me be; I simply engage in this natural conduct.” With these words, they gradually ascended into the sky, passing through the clouds’ openings, and reached Mandara—the golden-caverned mountain—by the perfected path. At the foot of this mountain, Bhargava saw a dried-up body, covered with moist leaves, which had arisen from a previous birth. He said, “O dear one, this slender body is indeed the same which you once cherished with pleasures and delights. This is that intoxicated body for whom cool beds were made with heaps of mandara flowers in Meru’s gardens. This is that intoxicated body, once fondled by groups of divine women, now lying on the ground, crushed by the mouths of crawling creatures. “With this body, I long sported in the groves of Nandana; now she has become a dry skeleton. From union with the limbs of celestial women, with a mind absorbed in the highest pleasures, now, deprived of those thoughts, my body here withers away. In those various enjoyments and in those different states, having bound yourself with such thoughts, how are you now at peace, O body? “Alas, body, where have you fallen, now come to the dryness of asceticism? You have become a skeleton, and, unfortunate one, you cause me to reflect. With this very body, I once delighted in pleasures; now, having become a skeleton, I am afraid of it. Once, a necklace resembling a cluster of stars adorned my chest; now, see how ants are burrowing there. With my body, whose golden radiance once attracted beautiful women, now see how it is reduced to a skeleton and mocked. “See how, with my mouth agape and skin dried by ascetic heat, animals in the forest are frightened by the ghastly face of my skeleton. See how, due to extreme dryness, the hollow of my corpse’s belly shines as if illuminated by rays of sunlight, like discernment itself. My body, dried up and lying supine in the forest, seems to inspire detachment in those who see its emptiness, as if it were suspended in the sky. “Freed from the craving for sound, form, taste, touch, and smell, my body rests on the mountain as if in unwavering samadhi. When the goblin of the mind is pacified, the body attains a measure of bliss that cannot be gained even by ruling the world. See, I am completely at rest, all curiosity gone; the body lies happily, freed from the net of imaginings. “The body-tree, agitated by the restless monkey-mind, moves with such force that it even severs its own roots. Freed from the misfortune of mind, my body does not experience the confusion of elephants, clouds, or lions; it abides as if in supreme bliss. Apart from the state of no-mind, which is like the autumn sun dispelling the mist of feverish desires and delusion, I see no other good for living beings. Those great and tranquil-minded ones who have attained absence of mind have truly reached the utmost limit of happiness and enjoyment. “By fortune, I see this body in the forest, freed from all states of suffering, completely peaceful, and without fever, in the state of no-mind.” “O Lord, knower of all dharma,” Bhargava continued, “in those days, many bodies were indeed enjoyed again and again by Bhargava. O sage, in that body produced by Bhrigu, what great wonder or lamentation occurred for him?” Thus, the journey through memory and realization unfolded, as the awakened one and Bhargava contemplated the fleeting nature of pleasure, the emptiness of former delights, and the profound peace found in freedom from the mind’s restless cravings.