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The fleeting beauty of youth, like nectar, is consumed by the whirlwind of time. The youthful vigor of the Jinas, the Kulkaras, the Chakravartis, the Haladharas, and the Narayanas, born in the fifteen realms, fades away like water in a cupped hand. Man, like a ripened fruit, falls from the tree of life. The radiant glow of the body, the prowess of weapons, even the gods and demons, cannot hold onto this fleeting life. The one who is revered by kings, honored by armies, horses, elephants, and chariots, and worshipped by the denizens of the oceans, rivers, mountains, and forests, is ultimately forgotten by his own wife after death. Whether he dwells in the depths of the ocean, in the midst of armies, in the heart of a fortress, or in the darkest depths of the earth, whether he conquers his enemies or enjoys worldly pleasures, death will inevitably claim him. Even if he hides in the depths of the earth, in the realm of the underworld, time will find him. Knowing this impermanence, one should embrace austerity and seek solitude in the forest. The deer, hunted by the ferocious lion, is a symbol of this helplessness. The one who has not embraced the path of virtue, who has not controlled his thoughts, words, and actions, is like a deer caught in the clutches of a lion. He is a helpless soul, driven by the winds of desire, wandering aimlessly in the world. Though he may be surrounded by heroes, Kinnaras, Arunas, Varunas, the winds, fire, Garuda, Yakshas, Rakshasas, Vidyadharas, Bhutas, Pisachas, Nagas, Chandra, the Sun, Indra, Mitra, and his own kin, he is ultimately alone in this world. The fleeting nature of life is a constant reminder to embrace the path of virtue and seek liberation.