Arjuna beholds all the gods and hosts of beings within the one Form; Brahmā on his lotus, the sages, the celestial serpents; boundless, without beginning, middle or end; with innumerable arms, faces, eyes; blazing immeasurably, “if a thousand suns were to rise at once in the sky”. Then the vision turns terrible: the warriors of both armies rushing into the flaming mouths, some crushed between the teeth, “as moths rush headlong into a blazing fire to their destruction”. The description moves deliberately from wonder (the beauty and vastness) to terror (the devouring) — because the Real is both. A God who is only sweetness is a sentimental idol; the true Absolute contains creation and destruction, the nursery and the crematorium. Arjuna is being shown the whole, not the comfortable half.