With immense effort, Arjuna struggled to restrain his overwhelming sorrow. He wiped his eyes with his hand, but the pangs of longing for the Lord’s presence overcame him. Memories of his friendship and deep intimacy with Krishna flooded his heart—how he had served as Krishna’s charioteer and shared countless moments of affection. Choked with tears, Arjuna turned to his elder brother, King Yudhiṣṭhira, and spoke. “O great king,” Arjuna began, “Hari, who appeared as my kinsman, has deceived me. It was by Him that I possessed a wondrous power, astonishing even the gods, but now that power has been taken away. Even a moment’s separation from Him makes the whole world seem joyless. Deprived of His praise, I feel as if I am dead, just as it is said. “By taking shelter in Him, I entered the svayamvara at Drupada’s palace, where proud kings had gathered. By His might, I defeated them all and won Draupadī. In His presence, I was able to give the Khāṇḍava forest to Agni, defeat Indra and his hosts, and obtain the wondrous assembly hall built by Maya. Kings from all directions brought tribute to your sacrifice. “By your power, O king, Bhīma—your noble younger brother, whose strength matched ten thousand elephants—subdued the lords of the earth for the great sacrifice, and those kings brought their tributes to you. At your great sacrifice, however, your wife, adorned for the royal consecration, was insulted in the assembly by gamblers. Her tears fell at your feet, her hair loosened when her protectors were defeated—those women suffered deeply. “It was He who protected us in the forest, when we endured the terrible hardships caused by Durvāsā, when our enemies attacked, and when, subsisting only on vegetables, we had exhausted all means. By His grace, even as dangers surrounded us like waters, the three worlds were satisfied. “By Your power, O Lord, even Śiva himself, armed with the trident and accompanied by his consort, was astonished in battle and surrendered his weapon to me. With this very body, I attained a seat of great honor in Indra’s palace. There, while I delighted in the company of the gods, my two strong arms—marked by the bow Gāṇḍīva and meant for destroying enemies—were admired by Indra and the other deities, who sought refuge with me. But now, O Lord, with Your departure, I have been stripped of that power, and I am no more than a common man. “By His favor, O kinsman, I alone crossed the boundless ocean of the Kuru army with a single chariot, displaying the valor of great heroes. I reclaimed wealth and jewels from the enemy, and took the radiant crowns from their heads. He, as the foremost among charioteers, led me in battle—adorned the circle of the best chariots, especially on the spotless nights—facing Bhīṣma, Karṇa, our Guru, Śalya, and others. With a mere glance, He subdued the strength and minds of our enemies’ leaders. “By His grace, the mighty weapons of Bhīṣma, Karṇa, Droṇa, Śalya, Saindhava, and other great warriors—though unfailing and powerful—could not touch me, just as the weapons of demons could not harm Nṛhari, the servant of Hari. In the battle at Prabhāsa, surrounded by those with evil intent, the Lord—whose lotus feet are worshipped by the virtuous for liberation—protected me. Though my horses were spent and I stood on the earth, the enemy charioteers, their minds bewildered by His influence, could not attack. “The playful and noble words He spoke—adorned with a charming smile—‘O Pārtha! O Arjuna! Friend! Joy of the Kurus!’—touch my heart. Remembering them, my heart of stone melts. In sharing the same bed, seat, walking, talking, and eating together, I sometimes mistook Him as my equal, like a friend with a friend, or a father with his son. Yet, out of His great affection, He tolerated all my offenses, born of ignorance. “Now, O King, bereft of that Supreme Person—my dear friend and beloved companion—my heart is empty. Though I have the protection of His great deeds, I am like a woman defeated by thieves, left helpless on the path of life. That bow, those arrows, that chariot, those horses, and I as the charioteer—before whom even kings would bow—have, in a moment, become powerless and useless, like offerings cast into ashes by the magic of illusion. “O King, by your will, the Yadus—who were not true friends even to their own city—became deluded by the curse of the Brāhmaṇas and began to strike one another with their fists. Having drunk the liquor Vāruṇī, their minds clouded by intoxication, they no longer recognized each other, and fought among themselves, leaving only four or five survivors. “This, O King, is the inscrutable way of the Lord’s actions: living beings destroy one another, and also nurture one another, by His arrangement. Just as in water, the larger aquatic creatures devour the smaller, so among men, the strong overcome the weak, and the powerful prevail over the less powerful. In this way, the Lord removed the burden of the earth by causing the mighty Yadus to destroy each other, just as the powerful destroy the less powerful. “The words spoken by Govinda—so fitting to time, place, and circumstance—soothe the heart’s distress and captivate the mind of one who remembers them.” As Arjuna remembered Krishna’s lotus feet with deep affection, his mind gradually became peaceful and pure. Devotion and constant contemplation of Vāsudeva’s feet washed away all lingering impurities from Arjuna’s heart, and he became established in the highest consciousness. Recalling the sacred knowledge sung by the Blessed Lord on the battlefield, Arjuna overcame the darkness cast by time, fate, and delusion. Freed from sorrow, he attained the state of Brahman; all doubts of duality were cut away, and he merged into a nature beyond the modes, liberated from bodily identification and the cycle of birth. Yudhiṣṭhira, his mind composed, heard of the Lord’s departure and the end of the Yadu dynasty. Resolving to follow the path to higher realms, he prepared himself. Pṛthā too, upon hearing from Arjuna of the destruction of the Yadus and Krishna’s departure, fixed her mind in exclusive devotion to the transcendent Lord, and withdrew from the cycle of birth and death. The unborn Lord, who had removed the earth’s burden, discarded His body just as one uses a thorn to remove another thorn and then throws both away. Like an actor who dons and abandons various forms—such as that of a fish—He relinquished that body after fulfilling His purpose. When Mukunda, the Blessed Lord, left the earth along with His auspicious form, at that very moment, Kali—the cause of unrighteousness—began to influence those whose minds were not awakened. Yudhiṣṭhira, wise and discerning, saw the advance of Kali—in the city, the kingdom, his household, and even within himself—manifesting as greed, falsehood, and violence. Thus, he prepared to depart. The sovereign, seeing that his own grandson was equal in virtues and discipline, installed him as lord of the earth at Hastināpura, on the banks of the Ganges. In Mathurā, he installed Vajra as the chief of the Śūrasenas, and then, performing the proper rites, Yudhiṣṭhira drank the sacrificial fire. There, having relinquished all attachments—relatives, followers, and possessions—he became free from possessiveness and ego, severing all bonds. He offered his speech into his mind, his mind into his breath, and the other senses into darkness; he offered his outgoing breath into death and thus entered the state of dissolution. Having offered the five elements into each other and then into unity, the sage offered everything into the Self, and the Self into the imperishable Brahman.