In the house of the serpent king, a remarkable child grew under careful protection. Even as a youngster, he moved about with unfathomable intelligence, his presence a source of delight to all the serpents. As he matured, he shone brightly among them, resembling the blessed Lord of the gods, the golden trident-bearer himself. Meanwhile, King Janamejaya, seeking to understand the circumstances of his father’s journey to heaven, addressed his ministers: “Tell me again in detail about my father’s passing.” The ministers, wise and righteous, gathered before him, ready to recount the story. Janamejaya spoke with earnestness: “You all know what happened regarding my father, how that illustrious one met his end in due time. Having heard from you in full about his deeds, I wish to act rightly and never in a contrary manner.” At his request, the ministers began, “Hear, O king, what you ask about your great-souled father’s conduct and how that lord of kings reached his end. Your father was righteous, great-souled, and a protector of his people. Listen now to how that great one lived here. He established the four orders in their own duties and protected them; the king, knower of righteousness, upheld dharma as if it were embodied. That illustrious one of incomparable valor protected the earth, the goddess; he had no enemies, nor did he hate anyone. Impartial to all beings like the lord of creatures, Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Shudras remained in their own duties. Under his rule, all were well-disposed and steadfast; he cared for widows, the helpless, the afflicted, and the poor. Handsome among all beings, like another Soma, he was prosperous, strong, truthful, and firm in his valor. In the science of archery, he was a disciple of Sharadvata; your father, Janamejaya, was also dear to Govinda. That illustrious one was beloved by all people; when the Kurus were destroyed, he begot a son on Uttara. From him was born Parikshit, the mighty son of Subhadra, skilled in royal duties and law, endowed with all virtues. Self-controlled, steadfast, intelligent, devoted to righteousness, possessing great wisdom and mastery over the six inner enemies, he was foremost in knowledge of statecraft. Your father protected these people for sixty years; then, meeting his destined end, he brought sorrow to all.” The ministers continued, “Then you, best of men, took up the path of righteousness; this kingdom of the Kuru line came to you for a thousand years. You were crowned while still a boy, guardian of all beings. Never in this lineage has there been a king who was not beloved and pleasing to his people, especially when considering the great conduct of our forefathers, devoted to noble deeds.” Janamejaya pressed them further, “How did my father, such a man, meet his end? Tell me truly and in detail; I wish to hear the facts.” Thus urged, the ministers, wishing for the king’s good and favor, spoke as it had happened. They said, “That king, protector of the earth and foremost among warriors, your father, O King, was always devoted to hunting. Just as mighty-armed Pandu, the best of archers in battle, entrusted all royal duties to us without exception—once, having gone to the forest, he struck a deer with a feathered arrow. After wounding it, he quickly pursued that deer into the dense woods. On foot, sword at his side, carrying his bow and quiver, your father did not find the lost deer in the thicket. Exhausted by age, sixty years old, worn by old age and hungry, he saw a most excellent sage in the great forest. The king, lord of men, questioned that sage who was observing a vow of silence, but though asked, the sage said nothing. Then the king, tormented by hunger and fatigue, seeing the sage standing motionless, calm and silent, was suddenly overcome by anger. The king did not understand that the sage was observing a vow of silence; filled with rage, your father insulted him. Lifting a dead snake from the ground with the tip of his bow, he placed it on the shoulder of that pure-hearted sage, O best of Bharatas. The wise sage neither spoke to him nor said whether it was right or wrong; he remained just as he was, unangered, bearing the snake on his shoulder.” The ministers continued, “Then that king, O lord of kings, having placed the serpent on the sage’s shoulder, returned again to his own city. That sage had a son named Śṛṅgī, of great fame, immense energy, sharp power, and prone to anger. The sage, having approached Brahman, performed worship; then, with his permission, Śṛṅgī heard of what had happened. Long ago, your father was insulted by your friend’s father, O tiger among kings, while he stood motionless, with a dead serpent draped upon him. He, though blameless, was carrying the dead snake on his shoulder, O king, that great ascetic, foremost among sages. He was self-controlled, pure, steadfast in wondrous deeds, his soul radiant with austerity, and at that time, he was disciplined in all his limbs. He was of virtuous conduct, spoke auspicious words, firmly established, free from greed, not petty-minded nor envious, elderly, observing the vow of silence, a refuge for all beings—yet your father wronged him.” Thus, the ministers faithfully recounted to Janamejaya the noble life, virtues, and the fateful end of his father, Parikshit, revealing the sorrowful tale that would shape the destiny of the Kurus.