With a heart resolute, King Pandu declared his intention to renounce the pleasures and foods of the world. He would endure great austerity, clad only in garments of bark, sustaining himself on fruits and roots, and dwell in the vastness of the great forest. He spoke of offering oblations into the sacred fire at the proper times and performing his ablutions with unwavering discipline. Emaciated from his chosen path, he would eat little, wear worn garments of bark and skin, and let his hair grow into matted locks. He was determined to withstand cold, wind, and heat, disregarding hunger and thirst, intent on wearing down his body through severe penance. Solitude would be his companion; he would live in reflection, subsisting on whatever the forest yielded, ripe or unripe. There, with water drawn from the wilds and words of reverence, he would honor the ancestors and gods. Pandu resolved to do nothing disagreeable, not even for the forest-dwellers—how much more so, then, for those who remained in the village. His heart set on the most rigorous of forest disciplines, Pandu declared he would undertake this path until his body’s end. Having spoken thus to his wives, the king, scion of the Kuru line, removed his crest-jewel, gold necklace, armlets, and earrings. He gave away his costly garments, the ornaments of the women, his principal vehicles, weapons, and armor. Golden vessels, divine couches and bedding, jewels of every kind—gems, pearls, and corals—were all distributed to the Brahmins. Then, Pandu instructed his attendants: “Go to Nagapura and announce: ‘Pandu has departed to the forest, renouncing wealth, pleasure, comfort, and even the highest personal delight.’” Having relinquished everything, Pandu set out with his wives, and his attendants followed after him. Hearing the king’s sorrowful words, spoken in accordance with tradition, the attendants cried out in distress, lamenting his departure. Shedding hot tears, they left behind their great king and hastened to Nagapura, bearing all the wealth with them. Upon reaching the city, they reported to King Dhritarashtra all that had transpired with noble Pandu, and delivered the treasures. Hearing their account of what had happened in the great forest, Dhritarashtra, best among men, grieved deeply for Pandu. He found no pleasure in beds, seats, or any enjoyments, overwhelmed by sorrow for his brother, his mind fixed on that loss alone. Meanwhile, Pandu, living on roots and fruits, journeyed with his wives to the mountain of a hundred peaks. He reached Citraratha, passed beyond Kalakuta, crossed over the snowy Himavat, and proceeded to Gandhamadana. Protected by great beings, perfected ones, and eminent sages, he dwelled in both level and rugged places. He arrived at the sacred Indradyumna Lake, passed beyond Hamsakuta, and at Shata-shringa, the king engaged in severe austerities. There, engaged in the highest penance, Pandu became pleasing to the assemblies of Siddhas and Charanas. Attentive, humble, self-controlled, and master of his senses, he strove by his own prowess to attain the heavenly realms. To some of the sages, he became as a brother; to others, a friend; and there were those who cared for him as for a son. In due course, having perfected his austerity, Pandu became like a Brahmarshi, a sage of the highest order. On the night of the new moon, the sages, steadfast in their vows, gathered together with the desire to behold Brahma. Seeing them preparing to depart, Pandu asked, “Where are you going, O best of speakers? Tell me.” They replied, “A great assembly of noble ones is to be held in Brahma’s world, attended by gods, sages, and ancestors. We go there, wishing to see the Self-born.” Suddenly rising, Pandu wished to accompany the great sages, eager to cross into the realm of heaven, facing north from Shata-shringa. He set out with his wives, but the ascetics addressed him: “Ascending higher and higher, we go northward over the king of mountains. On this beautiful mountain, we have seen many difficult regions, crowded with hundreds of flying palaces, resounding with song and melody. There are playgrounds of the gods, Gandharvas, and Apsaras, and gardens of Kubera, in both level and uneven terrain. There are vast river valleys and dense mountain caves; regions perpetually snowy, devoid of trees, beasts, and birds. In some places, there are vast deserts and impassable strongholds—not even a bird can cross them, let alone other creatures. Only the wind passes here, and perfected ones and eminent sages; how, then, O prince, will your wives traverse this king of mountains?” They continued, “O blessed one, for the childless, no gateway is recognized. Because of this, I am tormented regarding heaven; being childless, I speak to you: I, together with my wife, will undertake fierce austerity, ready to give up my life. Even without offspring, I may attain heaven through severe deeds. O king, with divine sight, behold a faultless child, a lineage destined by fate; O tiger among men, bring it about through action. A wise man, undisturbed, obtains untainted fruit; seeing such a result, O king, you ought to make effort.” Hearing these words of the ascetic, Pandu became deeply absorbed in thought.