Having traversed the vast expanse of experience, there was nothing left that had not been tasted, nothing left undone, and nothing left unseen—whether pleasing or displeasing to the eye. All that could be known had been known, all that could be witnessed had been seen without harm. Long wearied by the journey, rest was finally found, and the veil of delusion had lifted. “Rise, dear one,” said Bhargava, “let us go and behold that body which remains upon Mandara, now dried up like a withered forest vine.” In this place, there was nothing to desire, nor anything to avoid; he wandered freely, simply observing the play of destiny. Why should he persistently follow what is esteemed by the noble, with a mind fixed on unity? Let whatever opinions he cherished be; he simply engaged in natural conduct. Gradually, they ascended into the sky, passing through the openings among the clouds, and reached Mandara—the golden-caverned mountain—by the perfected path. At the foot of that mountain, Bhargava saw a dried-up body, covered with moist leaves, which had arisen from a previous birth. He spoke to his companion, “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 the gardens of Meru. This is the 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 and a mind absorbed in the highest pleasures, now, deprived of those thoughts, my body here withers away. In those various enjoyments and different states, having bound yourself with such thoughts, how are you now at peace, O body?” He lamented, “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.” He observed, “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.” Then, Bhargava addressed the Lord, knower of all dharma: “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?” O Rama, the subtle essence of Shukra, having attained the state of life, took on the form of action and arose as the Bhargava nature from Bhrigu. That essence, having first united with the supreme state, attained the condition of elemental space, and being stirred by the wind, entered the heart of Bhrigu through the flow of prana and apana. Gradually, it gained potency and became the body of Ushanas (Shukra). Endowed with the sacred rites of a Brahmin, she became the foremost among her father’s offspring, and in due course of time, she reached the state of a dried skeleton. When that body of Brahman first departed, Shukra lamented for her at that time. Even though he was free from passion and desire, possessing a composed and brahmin-like form, Shukra grieved for his own body; for this is the nature of embodied beings. However, by means of that display of grief, he demonstrated to the wise the distinction between body and embodied one, for the sake of establishing detachment. This is the course of the body, whether of the wise or the ignorant, for as long as life lasts; just as in the world, conduct always proceeds according to ability or inability. Those who have understood the nature of things, and those who are ignorant and act like animals, both remain in worldly dealings like lotuses in a net. Just as the ignorant person acts, so too does the wise; here, only a difference in tendencies is the cause of bondage or liberation.