As the gathering of ascetics settled themselves, Romaharṣaṇa’s son, out of deep respect for the sages, took the seat appointed for him. Once he was comfortably seated and at ease, a certain sage among them began the conversation, introducing the topics to be discussed. He addressed Romaharṣaṇa’s son, known as Sauti, saying, “From where have you come, O Sauti? Where have you wandered? Tell me, lotus-eyed one, the time, as I ask you this.” Thus questioned, Sauti responded with fitting words, his speech meaningful and grounded in the deeds of those present. In that vast assembly, where sages of purified minds were gathered, near King Parīkṣit—who had been duly tested—were recited the most virtuous and varied tales spoken by Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana, the great sage Vyāsa. These stories, full of wondrous meaning and connected to the Mahābhārata, were also properly narrated by Vaiśaṃpāyana, and Sauti himself had listened to them. Sauti explained how, having traveled to many holy places and shrines, he had come to the sacred Samantapañcaka, a place frequented by the twice-born. He had visited the very site where, in ancient times, the great battle took place between the Kurus, the Pandavas, and all the kings of the earth. Desiring to see that hallowed ground, he had arrived before the assembly, recognizing the sages as embodiments of Brahman, radiant like the sun and fire, gathered for the sacrifice. He observed how, having performed their ablutions and completed their recitations, with their sacred fires kindled, the sages sat peacefully. Addressing them, Sauti asked, “O twice-born, what should I say?” He spoke of the ancient and sacred collections of stories, rooted in righteousness and purpose, recounting the deeds of kings and great-souled seers. He referred to the Purana spoken by the supreme sage Dvaipayana, honored by the gods and Brahmarshis after they heard it. This foremost narration, with its varied and intricate chapters, subtle meanings, and reasoning, adorned with the essence of the Vedas, was the Mahābhārata—a sacred history refined in composition, expressed in the language of the Brahmins, and enriched by many teachings. This epic was recited by the sage Vaiśaṃpāyana to King Janamejaya, exactly as he was questioned, by the command of Dvaipayana. Sauti declared the wish of the assembly: to hear that compilation, joined with the four Vedas, created by the wondrous deeds of Vyāsa, sacred and able to remove the fear of sin. He invoked the primeval Person, the Lord, the much-invoked, the most praised among men; the single-syllabled Truth, Brahman, manifest and unmanifest, eternal; that which is non-being and being, the universe, and that which is beyond being and non-being; the creator of the higher and lower, the ancient, the supreme, the imperishable. Bowing to auspicious Vishnu—most excellent, sinless, pure, Hrishikesha, the teacher of all that moves and does not move, Hari—Sauti prepared to declare the sacred teaching, the wondrous work of Vyāsa, honored by all the worlds. He offered salutations to blessed Vyāsa, of immeasurable energy, whose grace enabled Sauti to speak this tale of Nārāyaṇa. He proclaimed that the merit gained by subduing all the senses or by bathing in all holy waters does not yield as much fruit as the tale of Nārāyaṇa. There is none equal to Nārāyaṇa, nor has there been, nor will there be; by this truthful statement, Sauti sought to accomplish all purposes. He acknowledged that some poets had told this story, others were telling it now, and still others would narrate this history on earth in the same way. Yet, this great knowledge, established in the three worlds, was preserved by the twice-born, both in detail and in summary. Adorned with beautiful words, timely references to divine bows, and composed in various metrical forms, it was cherished by the learned. Through asceticism and celibacy, having mastered the eternal Veda, the son of Satyavati—Vyāsa—composed this sacred history. On the holy slopes of the Himalaya, in a pure mountain cave, the righteous one, having purified his body, sat upon a bed of sacred grass. Pure and self-restrained, with a tranquil mind established in austerity, Vyāsa contemplated the course of the Bharata’s history through righteousness. Entering into union through knowledge, Vyāsa perceived everything in its entirety. In that dim, lightless expanse, enveloped on all sides by darkness, there arose a single vast cosmic egg—the imperishable seed of beings. This great and divine principle is declared to be the cause of the beginning of the age; within it is heard the eternal truth, the light, the everlasting Brahman. It is considered wondrous and inconceivable, the essence of equality everywhere; the unmanifest, subtle cause, which is both being and non-being. From that arose the Grandfather—the one lord, the progenitor: Brahma, the teacher of the gods, Sthanu, Manu, Ka, and Parameshthin. Likewise, Prachetas, Daksha, and Daksha’s seven sons appeared; then, the lords of creatures, twenty-one in number, arose. The Person whose nature is immeasurable, whom all the seers and gods know—the Adityas, the Vasus, and the Ashvins—also came forth. Yakshas, Sadhyas, Pisachas, Guhyakas, and the Pitrs were born, followed by the wise and noble Brahmarshi sages. Many great sages endowed with all virtues emerged; from them came the sky, earth, wind, the intermediate space, and the directions. The year, the seasons, the months, the fortnights, and the days and nights in order—all else that exists, everything that came into being as witness to the worlds. Thus, Sauti prepared to share the sacred narrative, rooted in the wondrous creation and the deeds of the great, for the benefit of the assembled sages.