Imagine time as a grand wheel that never stops turning. The Puranas paint it in four major hues, each called a yuga, or world age, and each one slipping into the next like chapters in an endlessly rewritten novel.

Satya Yuga, the Golden Age, shines brightest. Lasting 1.728 million years, virtue stands tall on all four legs—truth, compassion, austerity, generosity. It’s the era of direct communion with the divine. Next comes Treta Yuga, 1.296 million years long, where righteousness loses a leg—three pillars remain, but shadows start creeping in as epic tales like the Ramayana unfold.

Dvapara Yuga, clocking in at 864,000 years, sees fairness on just two legs. Knowledge fragments; the Mahabharata war erupts amid growing moral fog. Finally, Kali Yuga, our current stint of 432,000 years, leaves dharma teetering on a single leg. Since about 3102 BCE, ethics slip into the undercurrents, and self-interest often steers the ship.

A full cycle—one Mahāyuga—spans 4.32 million years. Stack a thousand of these together, and that’s a single day in Brahmā’s life, a “kalpa” of creation and dissolution. As dusk falls on each day, the universe dissolves, only to be reborn with the dawn. A year for Brahmā is 360 such days, and his lifespan stretches 100 of those divine years—hinting at a cosmos where beginnings and endings dance in an eternal loop.

In today’s hyperconnected world, it’s tempting to scoff at ancient time scales. Yet the Puranic vision offers perspective: civilizations rise and fall, tech booms and busts come and go, and moral compasses wobble. Recognizing these cycles can ground the modern mind, reminding everyone that every age—golden or gritty—contains seeds of its own transformation.