Freed from all craving for sound, form, taste, touch, and smell, my body now rests upon the mountain, serene and unmoved, as though absorbed in unwavering samadhi. When the restless goblin of the mind is finally pacified, the body is suffused with a bliss that surpasses even the joy of ruling the entire world. Behold, I am completely at peace—every trace of curiosity has vanished, and the body lies content, liberated from the web of imaginings. Yet, when the body—like a tree—is shaken by the monkey-mind’s agitation, it moves with such force it even severs its own roots. But once freed from the torments of the mind, the body is untouched by the confusion of elephants, clouds, or lions; it abides as if in supreme bliss. Truly, apart from the state of no-mind—which, like the autumn sun, dispels the mist of feverish desires and delusion—I see no other good for living beings. Those noble ones with tranquil minds, who have attained the absence of mind, have reached the very summit of happiness and enjoyment. By great fortune, I see this body in the forest, freed from all suffering, utterly peaceful and without fever, in the state of no-mind. O Lord, knower of all dharma, in those days, many bodies were indeed enjoyed time and again by Bhargava. O sage, in that body produced by Bhrigu, what great wonder or sorrow 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, became like elemental space, and, stirred by the wind, entered the heart of Bhrigu through the currents of prana and apana. There, it gradually gained potency and became the body of Ushanas, known as Shukra. Endowed with the sacred rites of a Brahmin, she became the foremost among her father’s offspring, and in the course of time, reached the state of a dried skeleton. When that Brahmin body finally departed, Shukra grieved for her at that time. Even though he was free from passion and desire, and possessed a composed, Brahmin-like form, Shukra mourned for his own body; for such is the nature of embodied beings. Yet, through this display of grief, he demonstrated to the wise the distinction between body and the embodied one, for the sake of establishing true detachment. This is the course of the body—whether for the wise or the ignorant—for as long as life endures; just as, in the world, conduct always proceeds according to one’s ability or inability. Those who have understood the nature of things, and those who are ignorant and act like animals, both remain entangled in worldly dealings, like lotuses caught in a net. Just as the ignorant person acts, so too does the wise; here, only a difference in tendencies determines bondage or liberation. As long as the body lasts, pain is felt in pain and pleasure in pleasure; the wise, with unattached minds, appear as if unawakened. In pleasures, they seem always happy; in painful situations, they seem afflicted; yet truly, great souls remain inwardly cool and unaffected. Just as reflections in a pillar may be disturbed, but the pillar itself remains steady, so for the knower, only the organs of action are agitated, not the steady mind. Knowing this, he remains amidst worldly activities, moving or unmoving, like the sun reflected clearly in water below. Even one who has abandoned worldly actions is bound if his mind is unawakened; even one who has not abandoned the play of delusion is free if his mind is awakened. He whose mind and senses are free is liberated, even if his actions are bound; he whose mind and senses are bound is bound, even if his actions are free. In this world, the senses and mind are truly the cause of perceiving pleasure and pain, as well as bondage and liberation—just as light is the cause of illumination. Outwardly, conform to the customs of the world, but inwardly, remain free from all conduct; stand as if unattached, with all desires completely pacified. While abiding in your own self, with all desires abandoned, perform the actions that must be done; this, indeed, is the state of equanimity. Do not fall into the deep pit of intense possessiveness on the path of worldly existence, which is a great whirlpool of affliction and disease, O seeker of the highest good. You are not in the objects, nor are the objects in you, O lotus-eyed one; your nature is pure, awakened, and established in the self—be steadfast. If, O great one, you attain that spotless state where the darkness of possessiveness is dispelled, all desires are gone, and the mind is radiant—then I bow to you, who are truly wise and noble. O Bhārgava, just as a king enters a city, so, leaving behind this body scorched by the sun, let us now enter this other body, O noble one. At the proper time, having performed austerity with the former body, you must again, O sinless one, assume the greatness of the lords of the demons. When the end of a great aeon arrives, O Bhargava, this body is to be abandoned, never to be taken up again, like a withered flower. Having attained the state of liberation while living, remain, O wise one, performing the role of the great preceptor of the gods, with your former body. May good fortune be with you both; we shall go in the direction we desire. For whose mind is there anything that is not as they wish? Having spoken thus, as they released the flower, he vanished like the sun disappearing from the sky along with its rays. When that venerable one had departed, having spoken what was destined, Bhargava reflected on the unalterable and fixed course of fate. He then entered that youthful and delicate body, dried up by the causes of time, destined to bear future flowers and fruits, just as Mādhava enters a tender creeper.