As the Pandavas, led by the virtuous Yudhishthira and devoted to the sacred Vedas, gathered at their father Pandu's side, grief overwhelmed them. One by one, they fell unconscious to the ground, unable to bear the sorrow. When they regained their senses, they embraced Pandu’s feet and cried out in anguish, “Alas, we are destroyed, father! Alas, we are left without protection!” Their lament grew deeper as they spoke: “Deprived of you, O great and wise one, how shall we children live? Though we are sons of the lord of the world, we are now without a protector.” They reflected on the strange twists of fate, saying, “In a single moment, O great king, see the strangeness of the world: there are no princes as unfortunate as us, O descendant of Bharata.” The Pandavas mourned not only the loss of their father but also the kingdom that had slipped away with his passing. “Because of your death, O king, and the loss of the kingdom, all of us Pandavas have now fallen into great misfortune. What shall we do, O king? What is to be done? Please show us your favor.” They recalled Pandu’s selfless love: “By your great austerity, O king, you obtained us; giving up pride, you went to the forest and yourself gathered food for us. With wild vegetables, roots, and fruits, you sustained us; fathers who desire greatness wish for sons like you.” Now, as the time had come to reap the fruits of the three goals of life—righteousness, wealth, and pleasure—they pleaded, “O king, you should not depart, O descendant of Bharata, without enjoying that fruit.” After these words, Bhima too voiced his sorrow. He remembered how Pandu had restored the Bharata dynasty when it had been destroyed, and how, upon Pandu’s departure to the forest, the kingdom was left without a ruler. Bhima spoke of how the kshatriya order had been expelled, but Pandu’s five sons had brought it back. “Hearing and approving this, you should now depart, O Shankara.” Bhima honored Pandu’s arduous efforts: “Having performed arduous austerities, we obtained you, O best of the Bharatas. Yet the fruit of great attainment—such as service and the like—has not been gained by you; nor was it ever gained before, as in the case of Dasharatha.” After these lamentations, Kunti and Madri, afflicted by grief, began to mourn. Kunti, the eldest lawful wife, declared, “I am the eldest lawful wife; the highest fruit of righteousness is mine; what is destined must surely come to pass—O Madri, do not restrain me.” She resolved to follow her husband into the realm of the departed, urging Madri to rise and protect the children. She continued, “Having obtained sons and fulfilled my purpose, I now seek the state of a hero’s wife. I alone will follow my husband, who has departed; I am not satisfied with desires—O elder, let me be permitted. Having approached me, this best of the Bharatas is exhausted by desire; how then shall I sever that desire in the abode of Yama?” Kunti spoke of her inability to live without Pandu: “For my king has been slain, O best of royal sages, and has gone to heaven; neither is my mind such, nor are my kinsmen thus disposed. I am unable to sustain my life without my husband; therefore I shall follow him as he goes to the realm of Vaivasvata.” She explained that she could not live among Madri’s children in the same manner, for such a life would bring her great unrighteousness. “Therefore, O queen, I must act toward your sons as toward my own; and I will seek my husband as he goes to the abode of Yama. For this king, desiring me, has gone under the sway of the departed; together with the king’s body, let this body of mine also—be burned, well covered—O noble lady, do this dear thing; be vigilant regarding the children, as I have instructed you; therefore I do not see any advice to give you.” At this moment, the sages, full of compassion, comforted the truthful and valiant Pandavas and spoke gently to Kunti and Madri. “O fortunate one, with young sons, you must not die in any way; we will take the Pandavas, those scorers of foes, to the land of the Kurus. When unrighteousness arises from greed, Dhritarashtra is covetous; he may at some time not act toward the Pandavas as is proper.” They reminded Kunti and Madri of their protectors: “Among Kunti’s protectors are the Vrishnis and also Kuntibhoja; among Madri’s, the foremost of the strong, Shalya, her brother, a great chariot-warrior.” The sages acknowledged the merit of dying with one’s husband, but said, “There is no doubt that dying together with one's husband bears fruit; yet, O youths, the foremost of twice-born say this is difficult to accomplish. A virtuous woman, after her husband's death, who remains steadfast in the vow of chastity, purified by self-restraint and discipline, and by pure thought, word, and deed—she is auspicious. Thinking of her husband, that auspicious woman can deliver her husband; and the husband, as well as herself and her son, would be saved. Therefore, we consider it best for you both to continue living.” Madri accepted the words of the sages, saying, “As is the command of Pandu and likewise of the assembly of Brahmins, that order has been placed upon my head, and I shall act accordingly. Even when misfortune befalls, I believe this is truly best—for my husband, for my sons, and for myself—there is no doubt.” She praised Kunti’s wisdom and capability: “Kunti is capable of maintaining the welfare and security of her sons; in wisdom, there is none equal to her, not even Arundhati. The Vrishnis and Kuntibhoja are protectors of Kunti; but I am not, like you, able to care for the children in the same way.” Madri then made her resolve clear: “I, who have not been satisfied with enjoyment, will follow my husband; let the chief queen of the world of husbands grant me permission. I shall serve at the feet of the righteous, grateful, truthful, and wise one; let the noble lady grant me leave today.” Thus, in the midst of their sorrow, the Pandavas, their mothers, and the sages wrestled with grief, duty, and dharma, seeking guidance in the face of loss and the uncertain future that lay before them.