Then, Vṛtraripu, the lord of the gods and the source of all prosperity, addressed the mysterious Yakṣa who stood before the assembled deities. With the gods gathered around him, Indra, ever curious, asked the Yakṣa, “Who are you?” At that very moment, the Yakṣa vanished from sight, becoming invisible and departing from their midst. In his place, Ambikā, the auspicious-faced daughter of Himavat, appeared. She was Umā, radiant and adorned with many beautiful ornaments, her presence luminous and gracious. The gods, marveling at the wondrous sight, turned to Ambikā and asked, “O Lady, what is this dazzling vision before us? The form of the Yakṣa still lingers here—what does it mean?” Reverently, they bowed before her, the lioness-like Umā, daughter of Majā, whose form shimmered in hues of red, white, and black. All the lords of the gods honored her, and in that moment, both gods and demons became alert and attentive. Ambikā spoke to them with authority, saying, “I am the primordial Nature itself, the cause of all beings. The Yakṣa is subject to my command.” Therefore, O twice-born, know that everything belonging to the Unborn One comes into existence by his command. From the cosmic egg, the Unborn arose, and from him emerged the entire world and the realm of light, whose essence is the Unborn. Now, let me briefly explain the movement of the luminous bodies within this cosmic egg, having observed the divine regions, so that you may understand the course of the planets. Above the sphere of the mind lies the city of Mahendra, shining in the east of Meru. To the south are the cities of Bhanuputra and Varuna, along with Varuni. In the region of Soma is the vast city of Saumya. In these directions reside the guardian deities: Amaravati, Samyamani, Sukha, and Vibha, each in their proper place. High above the guardians of the worlds, especially during the southern solstice, listen to the path taken by the sun as it journeys toward that region. When the sun begins its southern journey, it moves swiftly, like an arrow released from the bow, taking up the wheel of the luminaries and continually traversing it. As the sun enters the city of Purānta, it becomes the lord of Śakra. At that time, all the evening planets become visible, and the rising of the sun is observed. That very sun, at the end of night, is seen in Sukhavati, and at dawn, it sets again in Vibha, the universal lord. As I have described in Amaravati, the sun acts as the remover of darkness. Similarly, as it reaches Samyamani, Sukha, and Vibha, the sun—likened to a swift bird—continues its journey. When it is afternoon in Agneya and morning in Nairṛta, then it is late night in the harsh region of Vayu. In Īśānya, it is early night. Thus, the sun’s course is established everywhere. When the sun moves through the center of Puṣkara, listen to its path: the sun traverses thirty degrees of the earth in a single muhūrta. Hear now the distance it covers in that time—it is remembered as three million, one hundred and fifty thousand yojanas. This is the muhūrta-based movement of the great-souled Bhāskara, and by this measure, when he reaches the southern region—even then, the sun questions the Saumya direction on the northern day. In the middle of Puṣkara, he wanders during the southern solstice. On the northern mountain of the mind, the radiant sun, the lord, traverses a full hundred circles and eighty more. The outer and inner paths are thus described for the northern and southern solstices; every day, the sun moves through those circles. Just as a potter’s wheel spins swiftly, so too does the sun move rapidly in its southern course. Therefore, the sun traverses the vast earth in a short time, moving swiftly through twelve muhūrtas during the southern solstice. During the day, the sun passes through thirteen and a half constellations in as many muhūrtas, and at night, he travels through eighteen constellations in the same manner. Yet, just as the center of a potter’s wheel moves slowly, so too does the sun progress with gentle pace during its northern course. During that longer period, the chariot of the sun, established by the Adityas and sages, covers only a small portion of the earth. The thousand-rayed sun, illuminating all, is accompanied in front, behind, and below by Gandharvas, Apsaras, chiefs of serpents, and Rākṣasas. Withdrawing his rays above, he enters the supreme Brāhmī assembly. At twilight, with waters abandoned by the sages, he confronts the night-dwellers. Having vanquished those who approach, the sun moves onward with the Brāhmaṇas, traversing eighteen muhūrtas in the latter part of the northern course. Thus, day is formed, and the sun moves with slow progress. During the night, he passes through twelve and a half constellations in as many muhūrtas, and during the day, he traverses eighteen. Then, the wheel turns even more slowly at the navel, just as the fixed pole in the center causes the mass of clay to revolve. Those who know the ancient ways declare that a day and night consist of thirty muhūrtas, as the circles revolve between the two extremities. Just as the hub of a potter’s wheel remains at the center, so too does Uttānapāda revolve with the planets, being chief among them. The assembled sages, masters of astronomy, say that the mind of Uttānapāda moves along with the planets; established by him, the sun stands firm in his position. With his rays, the god, along with the wind, draws up water from everywhere. By the grace of Uttānapāda, the sun’s constancy is always maintained. By Viṣṇu’s Uttānapāda, and for the sake of the Father, the sun draws up the waters, which then gradually proceed to the moon. From the moon, they flow down in succession to the clouds, and the water-bearers, struck by the wind, release their waters as rain. The sun, shining with that essence, brings forth creation upon the earth. There is no destruction of water, for it is ever revolving in this great cycle. For the welfare of all beings, this cycle was established by Śarva: earth, atmosphere, heaven, waters, food, and indeed immortality itself.