In the sacred city of Mathurā, the illustrious Lord Yudhiṣṭhira, having fulfilled his duties as a king, installed Vajra as the ruler of the Śūrasenas, entrusting him with leadership. Then, in accordance with the prescribed rites, the Lord performed the final act of renunciation—he drank the sacrificial fire, symbolizing his complete withdrawal from worldly life. There, Yudhiṣṭhira relinquished all attachments—he let go of his ties to relatives, followers, and possessions. Free from all notions of possessiveness and ego, he severed every bond that tethered him to the world. He offered his speech into his mind, his mind into his breath, and the rest of his senses into darkness. His outgoing breath he offered into death itself, entering the state of dissolution. He then offered the five elements—earth, water, fire, air, and space—each into the next, and then into unity. Ultimately, everything was offered into the Self, and the Self into the imperishable Brahman. Clad in bark, fasting, with matted hair bound and his head uncovered, Yudhiṣṭhira appeared to the world as if dull, mad, or possessed—yet in truth, he was revealing his true, ascetic form. Indifferent to all around him, not hearing even as one who is deaf, he departed along the northern path, just as the great souls had done before him, his heart fixed in meditation upon the Supreme Brahman—a path from which there is no return. Seeing his resolve, all his brothers, steadfast in their purpose, followed him. For the people of the earth were now afflicted by the age of Kali, the friend of unrighteousness. Having virtuously fulfilled all their duties and understanding the ultimate goal of the self, the Pāṇḍava brothers fixed their minds on the lotus feet of the Lord of Vaikuṇṭha. With unwavering devotion and purified intellect, their minds became absorbed solely in that supreme abode of Nārāyaṇa. Thus, they attained that exceedingly rare state, which cannot be reached by those attached to sense objects and impurity, but is gained only by the pure soul. Vidura, too, having renounced his body at Prabhāsa, absorbed his mind in Kṛṣṇa and, united in consciousness with his forefathers, went to his own eternal abode. At that time, Draupadī, perceiving the detachment of her husbands, fixed her mind exclusively on Lord Vāsudeva, the Blessed One, and attained that same state of liberation. Whoever faithfully hears this account of the departure of the beloved sons of Pāṇḍu—a narrative most purifying and auspicious—attains devotion to Hari and the perfection of life. Sūta continued: Then Parīkṣit, the great devotee, ruled the earth according to the instructions of the foremost brāhmaṇas, just as expert guides nurture a noble child from birth. He married Irāvatī, the daughter of Uttara, and from her he begot four sons, the eldest being Janamejaya. Parīkṣit performed three great Aśvamedha sacrifices on the banks of the Gaṅgā, giving abundant gifts, with Śāradvata as his priest. At these sacrifices, even the gods became visible. Once, during his conquest of the directions, the heroic king Parīkṣit encountered Kali, who, though disguised as a king, was in truth a śūdra. He found him striking a cow and a bull with his foot. At this, Śaunaka inquired, “For what reason did the king capture Kali during his conquest? Who was this śūdra, bearing royal insignia, who struck the cow with his foot? O blessed one, please tell us, especially if it relates to the stories of Kṛṣṇa. For those devoted to the nectar of the Lord's lotus feet, what use are other fruitless talks, which only waste the precious span of life? O gentle one, for mortal men of short life who desire immortality, the Lord, as Death, has been invited here by the sage Śāmīka. No one dies as long as Death remains here; for this reason, the Lord was called by the great sages. Oh, let the nectar of Hari’s pastimes be drunk in the world of men! In this age, people are slow, of dull intelligence, and short-lived; their nights are wasted in sleep, and their days in vain activities.” Sūta replied: When Parīkṣit, residing in the land of the Kurus, heard the unwelcome news that Kali had entered his kingdom, the valiant archer took up his bow. He mounted his well-adorned chariot, yoked with dark horses and bearing the lion banner, and, surrounded by his army of chariots, horses, elephants, and infantry, set out to conquer the directions. He subdued Bhadrāśva, Ketumāla, Bhārata, the northern Kurus, Kimpuruṣa, and other regions, collecting tribute from them. He brought under his sway cities and forests, rivers of pure waters, men resembling the gods, and women of pleasing appearance. Parīkṣit beheld wondrous sights never seen before—splendid dwellings and women who seemed like celestial nymphs. Everywhere he went, he heard the glories of his noble ancestors being sung—praises that revealed the greatness of Kṛṣṇa. He also heard of how he himself had been saved from the fiery weapon of Ashvatthāman, of the deep affection between the Vṛṣṇis and the sons of Pāṇḍu, and of their devotion to Keśava. Greatly pleased, his eyes wide with joy, the noble-hearted Parīkṣit bestowed abundant wealth, garments, and necklaces upon the people. The king, devoted to the lotus feet of Viṣṇu, served the Pāṇḍavas with affection—acting as charioteer, companion, attendant, friend, envoy, sharing their seat of valor, following them, praising and bowing to them, and thus brought the world to bow before Viṣṇu. While Parīkṣit was thus engaged, following the conduct of his forebears day by day, a marvelous event occurred not far away. Listen as I recount it to you. Dharma, moving on one foot, saw the Earth, her shadow diminished, weeping like a cow separated from her calf. He questioned her, “O gentle one, is all well with you? Why do you appear so pale and withered? I perceive some inner sorrow—are you grieving for a distant relative, O mother? Are you lamenting your missing limb, for yourself about to be consumed by the wicked, or for the gods whose shares of sacrifice have been stolen, or for the people, since Indra no longer sends rain? Are you mourning for women and children left unprotected on earth, suffering at the hands of cruel men? Or for the sacred speech of the goddess, corrupted in the brahmin class, or for the noble families degraded by unrighteous kings? Is it for the kṣatriya clans afflicted by Kali, or for the kingdoms they have ruined? Or for the people who wander here and there, seeking food, drink, shelter, and baths, their livelihoods disrupted? Or, O mother, do you remember the deeds performed by Hari, who incarnated to relieve your heavy burden, but has now departed, delaying your deliverance? Tell me, O Earth, what is the root of your distress, by which you have been afflicted. Has your good fortune, worshipped by the gods, been taken away by Time, the strongest of the strong?” The Earth replied, “O Dharma, you know all that you ask me about, for you uphold the four legs that bring happiness to the world.