Engaged in action as a sacred offering to the Lord, intent upon the battle before them, the divine army stood free from passion and hatred, their vision steady and equal toward all. Yet, despite their noble resolve, the gods’ celestial host was overpowered—destroyed, wounded, and consumed by the fierce, blazing asuras, just as one’s own inner wealth is squandered by those who indulge in its pleasures. Crushed by the relentless force of the asuras, the gods’ army fled in haste, swift as the Ganges rushing down from the heights of the Himalayas. Seeking refuge, the celestial host turned to Viṣṇu, the Lord who reclines upon the milk ocean, just as a garland of clouds gathers around the mountain at the end of the wind’s journey. Viṣṇu, compassionate and strong, comforted the frightened river of the gods—pursued by serpents and trembling with fear—as a hero consoles his beloved. There, in the secret cavern of the Milky Ocean, the river of the gods remained in hiding, awaiting the Blessed One’s rise to vanquish the enemy. Then, a fierce and terrible battle erupted between Śauri and the demon Śambara, a conflict like the untimely end of the world, upheaving mountains and families alike. In the heat of battle, Śambara and his formidable army, along with their vehicles, were subdued; struck down by the mighty Nārāyaṇa, Śambara was dispatched to the city of Viṣṇu. Those who had fled in terror from that perilous conflict were calmed by Viṣṇu himself, much as lamps are extinguished by the wind. When, deprived of their former impressions, they attained peace, their state became like that of lamps once they go out—quiet, tranquil, and at rest. From this, it is clear: the mind, when bound by impressions, is fettered; when freed from impressions, it is liberated. O Rāma, swiftly bring about this state of freedom through discernment. By right perception of truth, the deep-seated impressions of the mind dissolve; and when these impressions are gone, the mind attains a peace as gentle as a lamp’s steady glow. Truly, there is nothing here at all; whatever appears, does so merely through imagination. And since even imagination itself does not truly exist, this is the right understanding. The words “tendency” and “mind” are but terms pointing toward meaning; where, through the vision of truth, both dissolve, there lies the supreme state. The entire world is only the Self; who, then, is there to imagine what, and where? There is no such thing as imagination—this is the correct insight. Here, the mind, colored by its tendencies, attains a particular state; freed from those tendencies, it is called liberation. The mind, having assumed various forms—like pots and cloths—eventually comes to rest. That very mind should be quickly brought to tranquility, for its forms are false, like a phantom that appears and disappears. Just as the mind is transformed into the form of a garland or a serpent, so too can it become the image of a terrifying, shining tree. Let the principle of the shining, awe-inspiring tree be established firmly within you, O Raghava; do not let the fleeting forms of garland or serpent define your being. O Rāma, this was once spoken to me by my father, the lotus-born Brahmā; today I have shared it with you, my supremely intelligent disciple. Therefore, O Raghava, let not the logic of the rope mistaken for a snake bind you; let the reasoning of the dry stick, which only appears frightening, always be yours, O sinless one. This path of worldly existence—filled with unbroken cycles of pleasure and pain—arises from the imagination of the world; even for one engaged in activity among beings, it perishes constantly through non-attachment. Victorious always are those heroes and the virtuous, who have conquered their own minds—minds intoxicated and agitated by ignorance and pride, ever inclined toward sense objects. For this worldly existence, which brings all manner of suffering and affliction, there is only one true remedy: the restraint of one’s own mind. Listen now to the essence of all dharma, and, having heard, take it well to heart: bondage is nothing but the desire for enjoyment; the abandonment of that desire is called liberation. What need is there for further scriptural debate? Hear this alone: whatever appears delightful to you, regard it all as you would poison or fire. Sense objects are enjoyments like poison; they must be examined again and again. They are undesirable and ought to be abandoned, for indulgence in them only brings suffering. A mind colored by latent impressions produces abundant faults, just as soil sown with thorn seeds yields a crop of thorns. But the mind, devoid of the seeds of attachment and free from the flow of thoughts—without visible passion or aversion—gradually attains supreme tranquility. The intellect, filled with virtuous tendencies, always produces excellent qualities that bear fruit in time, just as fertile soil yields the best crops. When the mind, through contemplation of auspicious thoughts, becomes clear and steady, the dense cloud of false knowledge is gradually and gently dissolved. As goodness increases—like the waxing moon in the bright fortnight—and discernment and virtue expand, the world shines with the radiance of the sun. When steadfastness grows within, liberation arises like the wind in the bamboo; when inner stability is established, delight appears like moonlight in the night. When the tree of good company bears fruit and casts a cool shade, the nectar of bliss flows from the straight tree of samadhi. The mind then becomes free from duality, desireless, undisturbed, and rid of the restlessness, greed, delusion, and fear that cause suffering. All doubts about the meaning of scriptures are exhausted, curiosity falls away, the web of imagination is dispelled, and one lives liberated, untouched by the world. Free from desire, anger, expectation, and anxiety, with the mist of sorrow fully calmed, unattached and unbound by doctrines, one stands firm. Having destroyed his own mind—the charioteer of the fierce horses of the senses and the cage of craving and attachments—he attains the supreme purpose: sovereignty over himself. He abandons the notions that fatten the self, just as a loyal servant, when his duty is done, casts off his body as one might discard a blade of grass. The rise and fall of the mind is the rise and fall of all; the destruction of the mind is the highest attainment. Knowledge leads to the dissolution of the mind, while ignorance causes it to grow.