When Pandu, weighed down by his fate, spoke to Kunti about the possibility of seeking offspring through a Brahmin endowed with ascetic power—reminding her of how, in times past, a woman had borne three great warriors by such means—Kunti listened with both reverence and resolve. Addressing her husband, the mighty Pandu, the lotus-eyed king among the Kurus, she spoke with deep devotion. “My lord,” she said, “you should not speak to me in this way, for I am your devoted wife. O mighty-armed Bhārata, it is you alone who will beget sons in me, sons who will be heroic and strong, in accordance with righteousness. O tiger among men, my wish is to go to heaven together with you; for the sake of offspring, it is you, and you alone, whom I wish to approach. Indeed, I would not even in thought consider another man besides you; who on earth could be superior to you?” With gentle firmness, Kunti continued, “Now, O righteous one, listen to this ancient story of virtue, well-known among the wise—I will recount it for you.” She told him of a king named Vyuṣitāśva, famed as a most righteous ruler who increased the line of Puru. During a great sacrifice, the gods themselves arrived, led by Indra and accompanied by the divine sages. Indra rejoiced with Soma, and the twice-born received generous gifts at the sacrifice of this great-souled king. The gods and Brahmin sages performed the rites, and King Vyushitasva shone brighter than mortals, just as the sun outshines all beings at the end of winter. Vyushitasva subdued kings in all directions—east, north, west, and south—at the grand horse sacrifice. His strength was like that of ten elephants, and those versed in ancient lore sang his praises. His fame spread across the earth, up to the ocean’s edge. He protected all classes as a father protects his sons and gave wealth to Brahmins through great sacrifices. He acquired countless treasures, pressed much Soma, and established many rituals. His wife was Kakshivati, known as Bhadra, unmatched in beauty among mortals. The two desired each other deeply, but as their love flourished, Vyushitasva was struck by illness. Within a short time, like the sun setting, he departed from this world, and his wife was overwhelmed with grief. Without a son, Bhadra lamented, her heart afflicted. Kunti continued, “A woman, though supremely righteous, is incomplete without her husband; one who lives without her spouse does not truly live, but suffers. It is better for a woman to die than to live without her husband. I wish to follow your path, O Pandu, be gracious and take me with you. Even for a moment, I cannot bear to live without you; grant me your favor, O king, and swiftly take me from here. I will follow behind you, whether the path is smooth or rough; I will not turn back as you go. Like a shadow, I will always follow you, obedient and devoted to your pleasure and welfare.” She spoke of how sorrow would overwhelm her in his absence, drying up her heart. “Surely, because of my misfortune, my companions have been separated from me; thus, this separation from you has come upon me. A woman who, separated from her husband, lives even for a moment, lives in misery—she is wretched, as if dwelling in hell. Unions and separations with husbands were made by me in previous lives; this suffering now is the result of sinful deeds accumulated in former births. This sorrow has come upon me, O King, from separation from you; from today, I shall lie on a bed of kusa grass, afflicted by unhappiness, devoted only to the thought of seeing you. Show yourself, command me, though I am wretched and filled with sorrow, as I lament in misery and distress.” As Bhadra lamented, embracing her husband’s corpse, her voice choked with emotion, she spoke these words: “Rise, O gentle one, go now—I grant you a boon here; I shall give you children, O one with lovely smile, through you. On your own bed, on the fourteenth or the eighth day, after your ritual bath, you may unite with me.” Thus addressed, the devoted lady did exactly as she was told, desiring a son, following those words precisely. By him, through that corpse, the lady bore three sons of the Shalva line and four sons of the Madra line. Kunti concluded, “In the same way, O best of the Bharatas, you too are able to beget sons in me by the power of asceticism and yoga.” Hearing her, King Pandu responded with words grounded in righteousness and knowledge of duty. “Just so, O Kunti, in ancient times Vyushitashva did as you have said, O auspicious one; he was indeed like a god.” Thus, in the presence of virtue and love, the ancient story and its lessons were spoken, echoing the deep bonds and duties that unite husband and wife, and the divine means by which progeny may be sought in times of hardship.