As King Parīkṣit journeyed through his realm, he encountered a striking sight—a bull, white as a lotus stalk, walking with diminished feet. Troubled by this vision, the king wondered aloud if this was a deity in the form of a bull, whose presence seemed to bring distress. He recalled that during the reign of the mighty Kaurava kings, when the earth was sheltered by their strong arms, living beings had never suffered grief—except through the bull itself. Turning to the cow, the daughter of Surabhi, Parīkṣit spoke gently: “Do not grieve, mother. Let your fear of the low-born fade away. Do not weep; may auspiciousness be yours. I am the punisher of the wicked.” The king reflected on the nature of rule: in any kingdom where subjects suffer, whether from the wicked or the good, the ruler, intoxicated by power, loses fame, lifespan, fortune, and the path of righteousness. He declared that the supreme duty of kings is to protect the afflicted and punish their tormentors. Resolute, Parīkṣit vowed to slay the 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 calamity never occur in the realm of kings who follow Kṛṣṇa.” Then, turning to the bull, he asked, “Tell me, O bull, may auspiciousness be yours, who is the cause of the disfigurement of the innocent, the defamer of the fame of the sons of Pṛthā?” He continued, “One who harms the innocent and spreads fear everywhere—only when the wicked are subdued does the welfare of the virtuous prevail. He who, though innocent, commits offenses without restraint—I shall seize his arm directly, even if he is mortal and adorned with a bracelet.” Parīkṣit reminded himself that the highest duty of a king is to uphold his own dharma, to govern others according to the scriptures, and not to deviate from the righteous path even in adversity. Dharma, in the form of the bull, replied: “Your speech, O son of Pāṇḍu, is fitting for those who grant safety to the afflicted, for whom Lord Kṛṣṇa became messenger and leader because of their virtues. We do not possess the seeds of suffering, O best among men; we are bewildered by the divisions in speech and do not recognize the person responsible.” He spoke of the confusion among people: “Some, clothed in speculative opinions, declare the self to be the self; 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 then narrated that as Dharma spoke thus, the emperor addressed him with a focused mind, expressing his distress. The king said, “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 four 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.” The king remembered how the earth, bearing a great burden, had been entrusted by the Lord, and was adorned everywhere by the footprints of the glorious one. Yet now, this virtuous lady, abandoned and unfortunate, weeps with tearful eyes, lamenting, “Unworthy kings, disguised as rulers, and shudras will enjoy me.” Having comforted Dharma and the earth, Parīkṣit, the great charioteer, took up his sharp sword, intent on punishing the cause of adharma. But as he approached with intent to kill, the culprit abandoned his royal mark and bowed his head at the king’s feet, overwhelmed by fear. Moved by compassion for the distressed, Parīkṣit did not slay the one fallen at his feet, seeing 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. 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.” Parīkṣit spoke of the sacred places: “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 continued: Thus instructed by Parīkṣit, Kali trembled with fear. He spoke to the king, sword raised, as one 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.” So, at Kali’s request, Parīkṣit assigned him these places: gambling, drinking, association with women, and slaughter—where the fourfold irreligion prevails. When Kali begged again, the king granted him gold; from that arose falsehood, intoxication, desire, passion, and enmity as the fifth. These five places, sources of unrighteousness, were given to Kali by Parīkṣit, and Kali dwelt there, abiding by the king’s command. Therefore, Sūta advised, a person who desires well-being should never resort to these places, especially one devoted to righteousness—a king, a leader of people, or a teacher. Parīkṣit then restored to the bull its three lost legs—penance, purity, and compassion—comforted it, and caused the earth to prosper. He occupied 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. Such is the power of King Parīkṣit, son of Abhimanyu, that while he protects the earth, all are engaged in the great sacrifice. Like the sun in his celestial chariot, having cast off all misfortune, he enjoys happiness together with Indra.