Once, in the days of old, there lived a Brahmin renowned for his austere vows and mysterious ways in dharma—Durvasa by name. With all my devotion and effort, I served this revered sage, honoring his steadfastness and hidden wisdom. Pleased with my service, the venerable Durvasa granted me a boon connected to sacred rites, bestowing upon me a powerful mantra and speaking these words: “Whichever god you invoke with this mantra, whether moved by desire or not, that deity will come under your control. By the favor of that god, you shall obtain a son, O king. Thus was I instructed in my father’s house, O Bharata.” Durvasa’s words, uttered with the authority of a sage, were true. Now, the time had come for their fulfillment. With your permission, O king, I am prepared to invoke a god. The illustrious sage gave me this knowledge, and by its power, when a deity is invoked, he will grant a son equal to the gods themselves, thus removing the sorrow you bear for being childless, O hero. Later, as the tale of the Kuru dynasty unfolded, you have already heard how Dhritarashtra, by the sage’s favor, was blessed with a hundred sons. Yet, the story of his daughter had not been told. There was also Yuyutsu, born of a Vaishya woman, and a daughter—making more than a hundred children. This daughter was of the king of Gandhara’s line, known as ‘mother of a hundred sons,’ O sinless one. This was declared by the great sage Vyasa, whose energy is immeasurable. But now, O blessed one, you ask me of this daughter—how could she be, if the sage divided the flesh-mass into a hundred portions, and no more were to be born? How, then, did Saubali’s daughter come into the world? Tell me, you say, how Duḥśalā was born; speak truly, for your curiosity is great. O son of Pandu, your question is worthy. Listen as I recount what truly happened. The blessed Vyasa, the great ascetic himself, divided that mass of flesh. He sprinkled it with cold water and apportioned it into equal parts, giving each portion to a nurse. Each fragment was placed in a separate pot filled with ghee. Meanwhile, Gandhari, virtuous and steadfast in her vows, was filled with thoughts of her daughter’s affection. Out of respect for the sage, she spoke nothing aloud, but in her heart, she yearned: “May I have a hundred sons.” There was no doubt this would come to pass, for the sage’s words do not fail. Yet, her deepest wish was for a daughter. She thought, “Let there be a girl, younger by a hundred, and through her son, my lineage will continue. He will not be a stranger, but my own daughter’s husband. It is said a woman’s affection is greatest for her daughter’s son-in-law. If only I might have one daughter, younger than my hundred sons, I would be fulfilled, surrounded by sons and grandsons. If my austerities, gifts, or offerings have borne fruit, or if I have pleased my elders, let it be so—let me have a daughter.” At that very moment, Krishna Dvaipayana, the illustrious Vyasa, was dividing the mass, counting out a hundred perfect portions into the jars. Yet, in his left hand, one piece remained. Having finished the hundred, he spoke to Gandhari, the daughter of Subala: “A full hundred sons will be yours; my word is true. But by divine arrangement, one portion remains—beyond the hundred. This fortunate child will be your daughter, as you have wished.” The ascetic placed this remaining portion into a pot as well, and in due time, she was born—the youngest of them all. Thus, O Bharata, you have heard the story of Duḥśalā’s birth. Tell me, O king, if you wish to hear more, and I shall relate it to you. Now, let me recount, in order, the seniority and names of Dhritarashtra’s sons, one by one. The eldest was Duryodhana, followed by Yuyutsu, Duḥśāsana, Duḥsaha, Duḥśala, Jalasandha, Sama, and Saha. Then came Vindānuvinda, Durdharṣa, Subāhu, Duṣpradharṣaṇa, Durmarṣaṇa, Durmukha, Duṣkarṇa, and Karṇa himself. Next were Viviṃśati, Vikarna, Śala, Satva, Sulocana, Citropacitra, Citrākṣa, Cārucitra, and Śarāsana. Following them were Durmada, Durvigāha, Vivitsu, Vikaṭānana, Ūrṇanābha, Sunābha, Nanda, and Upananda. Then Citrabāṇa, Citravarman, Suvarman, Durvimocana, Ayobāhu, Mahābāhu, Citrāṅga, and Citrakuṇḍala. After them came Bhīmavega, Bhīmabala, Balākī, Balavardhana, Ugrāyudha, Suṣeṇa, Kuṇḍadhāra, and Mahodara. Then Citrāyudha, Niṣaṅgī, Pāśī, Vṛndāraka, Dṛḍhavarman, Dṛḍhakṣatra, Somakīrti, and Anūdara. Among them was Jarasandha, steadfast in alliances, ever true to his word, eloquent in assembly, famed for his fierce renown, mighty in his army, and difficult to defeat in battle. Unconquered, resting upon a bed of spikes, broad-eyed, hard to subdue, strong and skilled of hand, possessing the vigor and brilliance of the wind; bearing the banner of the sun, voracious, gifted with serpents, foremost among the honored, armored, a crusher, adorned with earrings, and skilled with the bow. Fierce and terrible on the chariot, heroic, strong-armed, insatiable, fearless, performer of dreadful deeds, and steadfast in his chariot. Unassailable, breaker of earrings, loud-voiced, adorned with brilliant earrings, a subduer and destroyer, long-haired and full of vigor; long-armed, mighty, broad-chested, bearing a golden banner, eater of earrings, resplendent—and finally, Duḥśalā, who surpassed a hundred. Thus, the sons and daughter of Dhritarashtra were born and named, their stories woven into the great tapestry of the Bharata dynasty.