O wise one, know that when a person’s sense of ego has become thoroughly pacified, the allure of worldly pleasures loses its sweetness. Just as food laced with poison holds no appeal for one who is fully satisfied, so too do the enjoyments of the world lose their charm for such a soul. When one no longer finds delight in external pleasures, true well-being lies ahead, for when the darkness of ignorance is dispelled, what else could the mind possibly pursue? O Raghava, simply by abandoning the pursuit of ego and, with steadfast resolve, making a singular effort, one can cross over the ocean of worldly existence. When a great soul establishes in their mind the contemplation, “I am not; nothing is mine; nothing at all exists apart from me; all is truly myself,” and holds this awareness firmly, that one attains the supreme state. Now, listen as I recount what transpired in the city of Shambara, which stood like a mountain, after Dama and his companions had departed. When Shambara’s forces were destroyed and all order was lost, devastation prevailed, just as the autumn sky is emptied when the clouds are scattered. After his army was defeated by the gods, Shambara, the demon, spent some years in reflection, intent once more on slaying the gods. He thought to himself: “Those demons like Dama and the others, whom I created by my own illusion, I foolishly considered real. In battle, this inner sense of ego was but a false imagination. Now, I shall create other demons, brought forth by illusion, and then make them knowledgeable in the science of the Self, endowed with discernment. Once they realize the truth and arise from false imagination, they will not embrace egoism, and thus they will overcome the gods.” Thinking thus, the lord of the demons produced such chiefs of demons by his power of illusion, just as the ocean brings forth bubbles. These new asuras were omniscient, knowers of all that is to be known, free from passion and sin, acting as single agents according to their attainment, noble in mind. They were named Bhīma, Bhāsa, and Druṭa, and, marked by these names, they regarded the entire world as mere grass, intent on purification. As they descended to earth, these demons covered the sky, roaring and thundering like monsoon clouds. They fought equally with the gods for many years, yet, due to their discernment, never fell into egoism. Whenever the inner tendency of “this is mine” arose among them, they dispelled it through inquiry—“Who am I?”—and recognized its falseness. When only the unreal body and pure consciousness remained established as “Who is this I?”, then, through such inquiry, fear and similar emotions did not arise in them. For they realized: this unreal body does not exist; only pure consciousness abides in the Self. There is no such thing as “I,” nor is there any other. Having ascertained this, they became asuras in truth. Thus, these asuras, free from ego, fearless of old age and death, imitating the realized and following those established in the present, with unattached minds—even when slain by others who themselves had no sense of doership—were freed from the net of tendencies, their tasks accomplished, and devoid of the sense of agency. They engaged in action as the work of the Lord, intent on battle, free from passion and hatred, always possessing equal vision. That divine army of the gods was destroyed, consumed, wounded, and burned by the fierce, blazing asuras, just as one’s own inner wealth is consumed by the enjoyers. Crushed by these fierce asuras, the gods’ army fled swiftly, like the Ganges rushing down from the Himalayas. The celestial host sought refuge in Viṣṇu, the god who lies upon the milk ocean, just as a garland of clouds seeks the mountain at the end of the wind. Viṣṇu comforted her, the frightened river of the gods, who was pursued by serpents, as a hero consoles his beloved. Then, in the cavern of the Milky Ocean, that river of the gods remained, waiting until the Blessed One arose to destroy the enemy. Thereafter, a fierce battle erupted between Śauri (Viṣṇu) and Śambara, resembling the untimely end of the world, with mountains and families upheaved. In that battle, the demon, along with his army and vehicles, was subdued; struck down by Nārāyaṇa, Śambara went to the city of Viṣṇu. Those who had fled in terror from that perilous conflict were pacified by Viṣṇu himself, like lamps extinguished by the wind. Indeed, when they, deprived of their impressions, attained peace, their destination became like that of lamps as they go out. Therefore, O Rāma, the mind bound by impressions is fettered, and freed when without impressions. Swiftly bring about the state without impressions through discernment. By right perception of truth, impressions dissolve; when impressions are dissolved, the mind attains peace, like a lamp. Truly, there is nothing here at all; whatever appears, appears merely by imagination. Since even imagination does not truly exist, this is the right understanding. The words “tendency” and “mind” are both terms associated with meaning; where, through the vision of truth, both dissolve, that is the supreme state. The entire world is only the Self; who is to imagine what, and where? There is truly no such thing as imagination—this is the correct insight. The mind, colored by tendencies, attains a certain state here; when it is freed from those tendencies, that is called liberation. The mind, having assumed various forms like pots and cloths, comes to rest; that very mind should quickly be brought to tranquility, for its forms are false, like a phantom that has arisen. Just as the mind is transformed into the form of a garland or a serpent, so too is it transformed into the form of a terrifying, shining tree. Let the principle of the terrifying, shining tree be firm in you, O Raghava; let not the principle of the garland or serpent be yours. O Rama, this was formerly spoken to me by my father, the lotus-born Brahmā; today I have spoken it to you, my supremely intelligent disciple.