Hearing of the wondrous births within the Kuru line, a question arose: “How did Duḥśalā, the only daughter, come to be? Tell me truly, O best of Brahmins, for my curiosity is great.” The sage replied, “Your question is well asked, O son of Pandu; let me recount the events as they unfolded. It was the blessed and powerful ascetic Vyasa himself who divided the mysterious mass of flesh that had emerged from Gandhari. With careful hands, he sprinkled it with cold water and apportioned it into equal parts. Each portion, as it was formed, was entrusted to a nurse, O king, and placed into a separate pot filled with clarified butter. Meanwhile, Gandhari, steadfast in her vows and virtue, pondered deeply. Though she said nothing out of respect for the sage, her heart was full of longing—not only for the hundred sons she had desired, but also for a daughter. In her mind, Gandhari prayed: ‘May I have a hundred sons, as promised by the sage, for I have no doubt his words will come true. Yet, my greatest joy would be to have a daughter as well. If I could have one daughter, younger by a hundred, then through her son my lineage would endure, for he would be both my grandson and my daughter’s husband—a true continuation of my family. Indeed, it is said that a woman’s affection is greatest for her daughter’s son-in-law. If my austerities, gifts, or offerings have borne fruit, or if I have pleased my elders, may I be granted a daughter.’ At that very moment, the illustrious Vyasa, having divided the flesh into a hundred portions and placed them in jars, found one piece remaining in his left hand. He turned to Gandhari, the daughter of Subala, and spoke: ‘A full hundred sons will be yours; this word is true. By divine arrangement, one portion remains beyond the hundred. This fortunate child will be your daughter, just as you have desired.’ Thus, the sage placed that final portion in a pot as well, and in due time, Gandhari’s daughter was born—the youngest of them all. This was Duḥśalā, O Bharata. Such is the true account of her birth. Now, if you wish to hear more, ask, and I shall tell you, O sinless one. ‘Tell me, then,’ came the request, ‘the order of seniority and the names of Dhritarashtra’s sons, one by one.’ And so the sage began, listing them in turn: First was Duryodhana, followed by Yuyutsu, then Duḥśāsana, Duḥsaha, Duḥśala, Jalasandha, Sama, and Saha; Vindānuvinda, Durdharṣa, Subāhu, Duṣpradharṣaṇa, Durmarṣaṇa, Durmukha, Duṣkarṇa, and Karṇa himself; Viviṃśati, Vikarna, Śala, Satva, Sulocana, Citropacitra, Citrākṣa, Cārucitra, and Śarāsana; Durmada, Durvigāha, Vivitsu, Vikaṭānana, Ūrṇanābha, Sunābha, Nanda, and Upananda; Citrabāṇa, Citravarman, Suvarman, Durvimocana, Ayobāhu, Mahābāhu, Citrāṅga, and Citrakuṇḍala; Bhīmavega, Bhīmabala, Balākī, Balavardhana, Ugrāyudha, Suṣeṇa, Kuṇḍadhāra, and Mahodara; Citrāyudha, Niṣaṅgī, Pāśī, Vṛndāraka, Dṛḍhavarman, Dṛḍhakṣatra, Somakīrti, and Anūdara. Among them was Jarasandha, renowned for his alliances, steadfast in his word, eloquent in assembly, famed for his fierce reputation, mighty in his army, and formidable in battle. He was unconquered, broad-eyed, hard to subdue, strong and skilled, radiant and vigorous like the wind, bearing the banner of the sun, and adorned with earrings—a master of the bow, formidable on the chariot, heroic, and insatiable in battle. These sons were all great chariot-warriors, valiant and skilled in arms, learned in the Vedas, and adept with every weapon. For each, Dhritarashtra chose suitable spouses at the proper time, with careful consideration. And when the time was right, King Dhritarashtra gave his daughter Duḥśalā in marriage to Jayadratha, according to custom. Thus, O king, there were a hundred sons, with Yuyutsu making them a hundred and one, and the daughter Duḥśalā, as I have recounted. When the best among the strong was born, Pandu grew anxious, wondering how another of his sons might surpass all others in greatness. ‘This world rests upon both fate and human effort,’ he thought, ‘but fate unfolds only in its ordained time. Indra, king of the gods, is foremost among the deities, possessing immeasurable strength, energy, valor, and radiance. By pleasing him through austerity, I shall obtain a son of great might—a hero who will vanquish both superhuman and human foes in battle, by deed, thought, and word. Therefore, I shall undertake great austerity.’ Thus the story unfolds, with the wishes of Gandhari fulfilled by the sage’s wisdom, the lineage of Dhritarashtra established, and Pandu setting his heart upon gaining a son of unparalleled heroism through devotion and penance.