Whoever, whether honored or dishonored, seeks to make a living with a mind bound by desire—looking upon others with the hungry gaze of a dog—truly walks the path of dogs. Having spoken thus, King Pandu, deeply afflicted by sorrow, sighed heavily. With a heavy heart, he turned his gaze to Kunti and Madri, his devoted wives, and addressed them. He said, “Let Kausalya, Vidura the wise minister, the royal family and our kin, the noble Satyavati, Bhishma, and the royal priests—together with the great-souled Brahmanas, drinkers of soma, firm in their vows, and the respected elders of the city who dwell under our protection—let all these be respectfully informed that Pandu has departed to the forest.” Hearing the words of their husband, whose soul was now set on the path of renunciation, Kunti and Madri spoke in agreement. They said, “There are other hermitages, O best of the Bharatas, where we may dwell. Consider how we two, your lawful wives, may practice great austerity together with you. By attaining the great fruit of righteousness—even to the release of the body—you alone will be our lord, and there is no doubt, even in heaven. Having restrained our senses, devoted to our husband’s world, abandoning all pleasures of desire, we two will perform great austerity. O wise king, if you abandon us, then today itself we both shall give up our lives—of this there is no doubt.” Moved by their unwavering resolve, Pandu replied, “If this is indeed your firm resolve, in accordance with righteousness, then I shall follow the same path as my father, unwavering. Renouncing the pleasures and foods of the world, enduring great austerity, clad in bark, living on fruits and roots, I shall dwell in the great forest. I will offer oblations into the fire at the proper times, perform ablutions at the proper times, become emaciated by eating little, and wear worn garments of bark and skin, with matted hair. Enduring cold, wind, and heat, disregarding hunger and thirst, I shall waste away this body through severe austerity. Living in solitude, reflecting, subsisting on ripe and unripe forest fare, I shall satisfy the ancestors and gods with words and water from the forest. Even for the forest-dwellers, I shall do nothing disagreeable—how much more so for those living in the village. Thus, desiring the most rigorous of the forest disciplines, I shall undertake it until the end of this body.” Having thus spoken to his wives, the Kuru king removed his crest-jewel, gold necklace, armlets, and earrings. He gave away costly garments, women’s ornaments, principal vehicles, weapons, and armor. He distributed golden vessels, divine couches and bedding, and jewels of every kind—gems, pearls, and corals. Having given everything to the Brahmanas, Pandu spoke to his attendants, instructing them, “Go to Nagapura and announce: Pandu has departed to the forest, renouncing wealth, pleasure, comfort, and even the highest personal delight.” Then, having renounced all, the son of Kuru set out with his wives, and his attendants followed after him. Hearing the king’s sorrowful words, spoken according to custom, the attendants wailed aloud in distress, crying, “Alas!” Shedding hot tears, leaving behind the great king, they quickly went to Nagapura, taking all that wealth with them. Arriving at the city, they reported to King Dhritarashtra all that had happened to the great-souled Pandu, and delivered all the various treasures. Hearing from them everything that had occurred in the great forest, Dhritarashtra, best of men, grieved only for Pandu. He found no pleasure in beds, seats, or enjoyments, overwhelmed by grief for his brother, his mind dwelling only on that sorrow. Meanwhile, Prince Pandu, subsisting on roots and fruits, journeyed with his wives to the mountain of a hundred peaks. He reached Citraratha, passed beyond Kalakuta, crossed over the Himavat range, and proceeded to Gandhamadana. Protected by great beings, perfected ones, and eminent sages, he dwelled, O great king, in both level and rugged places. Arriving at Indradyumna Lake and passing beyond Hamsakuta, at Shata-shringa, the ascetic performed austerities. There, engaged in supreme austerity, that mighty one became pleasing to the assemblies of Siddhas and Charanas. Attentive, humble, self-controlled, and master of his senses, he strove by his own prowess, O Bharata, to attain heaven. To some he became a brother, to others a friend; and certain sages cared for him as for a son. In due course, having attained flawless austerity, Pandu became like a Brahmarshi, O foremost of Bharatas. On the new moon, the sages, steadfast in their vows, gathered together, desiring to see Brahma. Observing the sages preparing to depart, Pandu inquired, “Where are you going, O best of speakers? Tell me.” They replied, “A great assembly of the noble ones in Brahma’s world, of gods, sages, and ancestors, is to be held; we are going there, desiring to see the Self-born.” At this, Pandu, rising suddenly, wished to go with the great sages, eager to cross to the realm of heaven, facing north from Shata-shringa. He set out with his wives, and the ascetics said to him, “Ascending higher and higher, we go northward over the king of mountains. We have seen, on the beautiful mountain, many difficult regions, crowded with hundreds of flying palaces, resounding with song and melody.