Yama offers the boy anything he wants: chariots, horses, elephants, dancing girls — and a life hundreds of thousands of years long. Nachiketa does the arithmetic out loud: what are a hundred thousand years next to eternity? Less than the blink of an eye. So length was never the point. Length is what we bargain for: extend it, fit it in, push the end away. Śrī Prem Prayojan Prabhu says everything we hold on to is naśvara, perishable: we are related to it for a moment, and then it vanishes like a dream at dawn. And the boy asks for one thing — the knowledge by which the soul is satisfied forever. Yama smiles: you have rejected preya, what pleases you now, and chosen śreya, the good that can never be lost.