O wise one, know that when a person is born anew, pure knowledge enters swiftly into him, as a precious gem slips effortlessly into a flawless bamboo. In such a being, nobility, charm, friendship, gentleness, freedom, and wisdom reside always, like cherished women dwelling in the inner chambers of a noble house. No matter what actions he undertakes—whether he gains or loses—he remains ever equal, untouched by joy or sorrow, steadfast in all situations. Just as darkness vanishes before the light of day, so too are all opposites dissolved within him; and, like autumn clouds that become pure and clear, the qualities within him shine with unsullied purity. All people are drawn to one whose conduct is gentle and sweet, just as herds of deer in the forest are enchanted by the melodious sound of a flute. In the same way, virtues and prosperity naturally gather around a person born in the West, just as cranes flock to a rain-bearing cloud. Such a person, adorned with virtues, seeks out a worthy teacher. That teacher, through discernment, guides the disciple to what is pure. With a mind endowed with inquiry and detachment, and rich in virtues, the seeker perceives the divine Self—one’s own true nature—single, free from affliction. Therefore, O Rama, through charming inquiry and a peaceful mind, the restless mind—agitated by countless thoughts—must first be awakened. Those born in the West, blessed with great virtues, begin by awakening the slumbering deer of the mind with songs of virtue. By serving noble and renowned teachers with diligence, and by examining the jewel of the mind with a pure intellect, a person in this world attains a spotless state, having long observed the inner light within. Thus, the general sequence for all beings has been described. But now, O lotus-eyed one, listen to another distinction. In this tumultuous world, for those who have taken on bodies, there are two excellent paths to liberation. One is gradual, attained through the steady practice taught by a teacher, over one or many lifetimes, and is known to bring perfection. The other path is swift: when a person gains sudden insight through their own mind, knowledge dawns instantly, like a fruit falling from the sky. To help you understand this sudden attainment of knowledge, listen to an ancient story. Hear, O fortunate one, how those of great merit, whose past deeds—good and bad—have been washed away, attain supreme and pure discernment, as effortlessly as a fruit falls from the sky. There was once a king among the Videhas named Janaka. He possessed a noble intellect, all calamities had vanished from his life, his prosperity was ever rising, and he was endowed with great strength. He was like a wish-fulfilling tree for those seeking favors, a sun among lotus-like friends, springtime for the blooming of kinship, and the very banner of love for women. To the twice-born, he was as the cool moon is to lilies; to his enemies, a sun that dispelled their darkness; a sea of the jewels of nobility, and he stood upon the earth like Vishnu himself. One spring day, amidst blossoming creepers and clusters of flower buds, Janaka wandered where intoxicated cuckoos sang joyfully. He entered a grove adorned with blooming vines, delightful and charming, as if Indra himself were enjoying the beauty of the Nandana garden. In that splendid and pleasing forest, where breezes carried the fragrance of kesara flowers, he wandered through lovely bowers, his attendants remaining at a respectful distance. There, in a thicket of tamāla trees, he heard the words of invisible siddhas, spoken among themselves. These were songs, filled with the essence of realization, sung by those of detached minds who always dwell in mountain caves. They sang: “We worship that pure essence of the Self, which arises from the union of seer and seen, and is the certainty of bliss born of direct knowledge. Abandoning the seer, the seeing, and the seen, along with all impressions, we worship the Self, the first light of awareness. We always worship the Self, which is without appearance, without mental construction, incomparable to any manifestation, and whose experience is the contemplation of non-being. We worship that Self, the illuminator of illuminations, which always abides in the middle of the two positions—existence and non-existence. We worship our own Self, which is without head or form, established in all forms, and constantly resounds without ceasing. Those who abandon the Lord dwelling in the cave of the heart and seek another deity are like those who desire a jewel after casting away the Kaustubha gem held in their own hand. By abandoning all desires, this fruit is attained, by which the root-garland of the poisonous creepers of desire is torn up. Even after realizing the utter hostility in objects, if a foolish person again binds his mind to them, that man is not a donkey. Again and again, one should destroy these senses, whether risen or not, with the thunderbolt of discrimination, just as Hari destroys mountains with a thunderbolt. Let the pure-hearted one, by the power of tranquility, attain the happiness of peace; with the mind pacified, abiding in one’s own true nature, supreme happiness endures for a long time.” Having heard these songs sung by the hosts of perfected beings, King Janaka was suddenly seized by despair, just as the timid are at the sound of battle. He returned to his household, drawing his retinue along, like the swelling flood of the rainy season carrying trees on the riverbank toward the ocean. Having dismissed his entire retinue, he ascended alone to his lofty house, like the sun mounting a mountain peak. Restless, his mind fluttering like the wings of birds at dusk, he gazed upon the ways of the world and lamented in his distress: “Alas, how grievous are these ever-changing states of the world! I am tossed about among stones, like a stone, helplessly and in vain.