In the aftermath of Kṛṣṇa’s departure from the world, King Parīkṣit, the noble grandson of the Pāṇḍavas, encountered a troubling sight. Before him stood a figure, striking the weak and innocent, behaving in a way unbefitting a ruler. Parīkṣit confronted him sternly, demanding, “Who are you, who harms the defenseless under my protection? Though you wear the garb of a king, your actions resemble those of a mere actor, not one born twice and trained in righteousness. You attack the innocent in secret—such a person deserves death, especially now that Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, the bearer of the Gāṇḍīva bow, have departed.” Parīkṣit then wondered aloud, “Or are you, white as a lotus stalk, walking with diminished feet, a deity in the form of a bull, causing us distress?” He lamented that during the reign of the mighty Kaurava kings, the earth had never suffered grief—except now, through this being’s actions. Turning to the cow, the daughter of Surabhi, who stood nearby, Parīkṣit comforted her: “Do not grieve, O mother. Let your fear of the low-born fade. Do not weep; may auspiciousness be yours. I am here to punish the wicked.” He reflected that in any kingdom where subjects suffer from both the wicked and the virtuous, the ruler—intoxicated by power—loses fame, lifespan, fortune, and righteousness. “The supreme duty of kings,” he declared, “is to protect the afflicted and punish their tormentors. Therefore, I shall kill this most wicked enemy of living beings.” He addressed the cow, “Who has cut off your three legs, O daughter of Surabhi, you four-footed one? May such torment never exist in the realm of kings who follow Kṛṣṇa.” Turning to the bull, he asked, “Tell me, O bull, may auspiciousness be yours—who has disfigured the innocent and tarnished the fame of the sons of Pṛthā?” Parīkṣit affirmed, “One who harms the innocent and spreads fear deserves punishment, for only then is the welfare of the virtuous ensured.” He vowed, “If anyone commits offenses without restraint, even if mortal and adorned with a bracelet, I shall seize his arm directly.” He reminded himself that a king’s highest duty is to uphold his own dharma, governing others according to scripture and not deviating even in adversity. Then Dharma, the bull, spoke: “Your words, O son of Pāṇḍu, are fitting for those who grant safety to the afflicted—those for whom Lord Kṛṣṇa was both messenger and leader, due to their virtues. We do not possess the seeds of suffering, O best among men; we are bewildered by divisions in speech and do not recognize the person responsible. Some, clothed in speculative opinions, declare the self to be the cause; others say it is fate, some say it is action, and others claim nature as the master. For some, the conclusion is that it is inconceivable and indescribable. O royal sage, consider this according to your own discernment.” Sūta, the storyteller, continued: As Dharma spoke thus, Emperor Parīkṣit addressed him with a focused mind, expressing his distress. “You speak of dharma, O knower of dharma, and you are dharma, taking the form of a bull. Wherever adharma is committed, the informer shares in its place. Or perhaps, indeed, the course of divine illusion is inaccessible to the mind and speech of beings—this is certain.” He observed, “Austerity, purity, compassion, and truth are the legs established in the age of virtue; three have been broken by your pride, attachment, and intoxication. Now, Dharma, your remaining leg is truth, which you must uphold; but Kali, established by falsehood, seeks to seize it.” He turned to the earth, “This earth, bearing a great burden, was entrusted by the Lord and adorned everywhere by the footprints of the glorious one. Yet this virtuous lady, abandoned and unfortunate, weeps with tearful eyes; she laments, ‘Unworthy kings, disguised as rulers, and shudras will enjoy me.’” Having comforted Dharma and the earth, the great charioteer Parīkṣit took up his sharp sword, intent on punishing the cause of adharma. As he approached Kali, the perpetrator, with intent to kill, Kali abandoned his royal mark and bowed his head at Parīkṣit’s feet, overwhelmed by fear. Parīkṣit, compassionate to the distressed, did not slay the one fallen at his feet, recognizing him as worthy of refuge. Smiling slightly, he spoke: “For you, whose hands are joined in respect, there is no fear at all from the glorious descendants of Guḍākeśa. Yet you must not remain in my domain, O companion of adharma.” He declared, “As you dwell among the bodies of men, this host of adharma has arisen: greed, falsehood, theft, impiety, sin, deceit, quarrel, and hypocrisy. You must not remain, O companion of adharma; you must abide by dharma and truth, especially in the region where the wise, through sacrifices, worship the Lord of sacrifice. Where Hari, the blessed Lord, is worshipped, taking the form of the sacrifice, he bestows auspiciousness upon the worshippers; like air within and without, he is the soul of all, both moving and unmoving.” Sūta narrated: Thus instructed by Parīkṣit, Kali trembled with fear and spoke, as Parīkṣit stood with sword raised, wielding the rod of punishment. Kali said, “Wherever I may dwell, O sovereign, by your command, I see you present there, bearing your bow and arrows. Therefore, O best upholder of righteousness, you should designate a place for me, where I may reside, strictly following your order.” Responding to Kali’s request, Parīkṣit assigned him these places: gambling, drinking, association with women, and slaughter—where the fourfold irreligion prevails. When Kali begged for more, the king granted him gold; from that arose falsehood, intoxication, desire, passion, and as the fifth, enmity. These five places, sources of unrighteousness, were given to Kali by the son of Uttara, and Kali dwelt there, abiding by the king’s command. Therefore, Sūta declared, anyone desiring well-being should never resort to these places, especially those devoted to righteousness—a king, a leader of people, or a teacher. Parīkṣit restored to the bull its three lost legs—penance, purity, and compassion—comforted it, and caused the earth to prosper. He now occupies the royal throne, as entrusted by his grandfather when the king wished to retire to the forest. At present, that royal sage, radiant with the glory of the Kaurava kings, resides in Hastināpura, illustrious and sovereign.