In the aftermath of a devastating war, King Dhritarashtra sat in despair, overwhelmed by the enormity of loss that had befallen his kingdom. Only ten warriors had survived the fierce battle—three from his own side and seven from the Pandavas. The grim toll of the conflict was staggering, as eighteen Akshauhinis had been annihilated in the clash of Kshatriyas. As he pondered this dreadful reality, a vast darkness enveloped him, as if a delusion had seized his mind, rendering him unable to regain his senses. His heart was heavy with sorrow, and he felt a profound disturbance within. In his grief, Dhritarashtra fainted, but upon regaining consciousness, he turned to his charioteer, Sanjaya, with a heavy heart. "I wish to give up my life without delay," he lamented, seeing no benefit in continuing to live amidst such sorrow. Witnessing the king's deep distress, Gāvalgaṇa, wise and discerning, spoke words of significance to him, seeking to ease his troubled spirit. He reminded Dhritarashtra of the great royal lineages adorned with virtues, where once were born kings skilled in divine weaponry, who possessed the brilliance of Indra. These noble rulers had conquered the earth through righteousness, performing grand sacrifices filled with abundant gifts. Among them were illustrious figures like Shaibya, the great chariot-warrior, and the heroic Sṛnjaya, each renowned for their valor and deeds. Gāvalgaṇa recounted the names of many mighty kings, from Bahlika and Damana to the great Rama, son of Dasharatha, and the virtuous Yayati, who had been favored by the gods. He spoke of those who came before, even more powerful chariot-warriors, noble in spirit and endowed with every virtue. Kings such as Puru, Kuru, and Yadu, along with countless others, had once ruled with dignity and strength. Yet, despite their greatness, all had ultimately met their end, abandoning vast enjoyments and worldly power. Their deeds—marked by divine valor, renunciation, and compassion—were celebrated in the ancient tales, yet even the most virtuous had succumbed to the inevitable march of time. "Your sons, though wicked in nature, scorched by anger and greed, should not be the source of your grief," Gāvalgaṇa urged. "You are learned and esteemed, O Bharata, and those who follow the scriptures do not succumb to delusion. You know well the balance of restraint and favor; do not indulge excessively in protecting those who have strayed from the path." He continued, reminding the king that what must be, will be. "Who can turn back destiny? No one can overstep the path ordained by the Creator. All existence—pleasure and pain—has its root in Time. Time creates beings and withdraws them; it transforms all things, both auspicious and inauspicious. Time is insurmountable and impartial, moving among all beings without governance." With these profound insights, Gāvalgaṇa sought to restore Dhritarashtra's composure. The king, absorbing this wisdom, began to understand that everything had come to pass by the hand of destiny. He took refuge in self-control, recognizing the truth in Gāvalgaṇa’s words. In this moment of clarity, the eminent sage Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana, known for his compassion for the welfare of the worlds, spoke the sacred Upaniṣad. He revealed that even a single section of the Mahābhārata, studied with faith, could purify one of all sins. This scripture honored the gods, the divine sages, the pure Brahmarṣis, and the Yakṣas, all celebrated for their noble deeds. Thus, the narrative unfolds, a testament to the enduring wisdom of the ages, guiding those lost in grief toward understanding and acceptance of the eternal flow of life, shaped by the inexorable force of Time.