O lotus-eyed one, you are neither contained within objects nor do objects reside within you. Your nature is pure and awakened, firmly established in the Self. Remain steadfast in this realization. If, O great soul, you attain that immaculate state where the heavy darkness of possessiveness is dispelled, all desires dissolve, and your mind shines radiant and clear, then I bow to you, for you are truly wise and noble. Turning to Bhārgava, the narrative unfolds: Just as a king enters his city, so, leaving behind this body scorched by the sun, let us enter another body, O noble one. When the time is right, after performing austerities with the former body, you must again, O sinless one, assume the greatness of the lords of the demons. Yet, when the end of a great aeon arrives, O Bhargava, this body must be abandoned, never to be taken up again, like a flower withered and fallen. Having attained liberation while still 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; let us go where we desire. For whose mind is there anything that is not as they wish? With these words, 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 entered that youthful and delicate body, dried up by the passage of time, destined to bear future flowers and fruits, just as Mādhava enters a tender creeper. The brāhmaṇa body, pale in face and limbs, trembled and quickly fell to the ground, like a creeper whose root has been cut. Once the great sage had entered the body of his son, he performed a rite of restoration with mantras and water from his water-pot. Then, all the slender one's channels became filled, shining forth like river hollows brimming with water in the rainy season. She was like a lotus blooming in the rains, or a new vine in spring; when she was full, her vital energies blossomed forth. Then, the semen arose, carried by the moving breath, as if a cloud, filled by the union of sap and wind, were swelling to fullness. He, pure in form, respectfully greeted his father, like a newly awakened cloud saluting the mountain with its first thunder. Then the father embraced her former body, his heart softened with affection, like a rain-cloud long embracing the mountain slope. Bhrigu beheld, with affection, the former body of his daughter; the thought, "This one is born from me," seizes even the wise. At that moment, the affection, "This is my son," seized even Bhrigu; for as long as form endures, the sense of "mine" persists. Then the two became father and son, each enhancing the other's radiance, like the sun and a lotus pond rejoicing at the end of night—like a pair called the wheel, joined after a long separation, like the peacock and the cloud, united by the deep bond of the monsoon. After remaining there for a while, with that story fit for long-standing, firm yearning, the wise one then rose up. Together, they reduced that twice-born body to ashes there; for who in this world does not follow proper conduct? Thus, in that pure forest, the two—Bhrigu and Bhargava—stood, radiant with austerity, like the moon and sun in the sky. Having known what is to be known, liberated while living, teachers of the world, they moved about, their austerity easy and steady amidst the shifting waves of place, time, and circumstance. In time, Śukra attained the status of preceptor of the asuras, and Bhrigu remained in his own proper, flawless state. Śukra was first born in this way from that supreme state, and then, through his own lapse of memory, was cast into various other conditions. At first, that pure mind of Bhārgava arose from the state of Brahman, untainted by the stain of any other birth. When all desires are pacified and the mind is pure, the state that arises is called sattva; this is referred to as spotless consciousness. Whatever the mind, whose essence is pure sattva, contemplates, that indeed quickly comes to be, just as a whirlpool forms in the ocean's waters. Just as confusion arose spontaneously in the son of Bhrigu, so too, for each individual, the same illustration applies regarding Bhrigu's son. Just as a seed produces its own sprout, leaves, and so on, in the same way, the cluster of delusions arises for all groups of beings. Whatever is seen as this universe, so indeed is all of it; each manifestation arises falsely and likewise passes away falsely. The world does not set nor does it arise for anyone; this is merely a delusion, a display of maya, expanding in vain. Just as this world-egg appears in our own perception, so too, thousands of such unseen worlds exist for others. Just as the activities of dream-cities and imagined cities are not seen by each other, so too are these cycles of worldly delusion separate. In this way, there are indeed cities in the sky, formed by imagination; they exist, yet are not seen except by the eye of knowledge. Likewise, spirits, yakṣas, and demons are of such a kind—bodies made only of thought, composed of pleasure and pain. In the same way, O delight of the Raghu lineage, we and these beings are all formed from our own imagination, possessing the nature of both falsehood and reality. Just so, the cycle of creation exists in this manner; it is not truly real, for in reality, it abides in the unreal.