The Earth, in the form of a sorrowful and virtuous lady, stood abandoned and unfortunate, her eyes overflowing with tears. She lamented her fate, crying out that unworthy kings, masquerading as rulers, and shudras would soon enjoy her, bringing decline to her once-glorious state. Witnessing her distress, the heroic King Parīkṣit, renowned charioteer and upholder of righteousness, comforted both Dharma and the Earth. Resolute in his duty, he took up his sharp sword, determined to punish the root of adharma. Approaching the perpetrator with intent to kill, Parīkṣit abandoned the outward trappings of royalty. But when he drew near, the culprit—Kali himself—bowed low at the king’s feet, his heart gripped by fear. Moved by compassion for the distressed, Parīkṣit, that noble hero, refrained from striking down one who had sought refuge at his feet. Smiling gently, he spoke: “For you, who have come with joined palms, there is no danger from the illustrious descendants of Guḍākeśa. But you must not remain in my kingdom, O companion of adharma. “It is because of your presence among men that adharma has flourished: greed, falsehood, theft, impiety, sin, deceit, quarrel, and hypocrisy now abound. You must depart from my domain, companion of adharma. Abide instead where dharma and truth are upheld—where the wise, through sacrifice, worship the Lord of sacrifice. “Where Hari, the blessed Lord, is worshipped in the form of sacrifice, he bestows auspiciousness upon the worshippers. Like air pervading all, he is the soul of all beings, moving and unmoving.” Hearing these words, Kali trembled with fear. Sūta continued the tale: Kali, seeing Parīkṣit’s sword raised in righteous anger, pleaded, “O sovereign, wherever I might dwell by your command, I see you there as well, armed and vigilant. Therefore, O best upholder of righteousness, assign me a place to reside, and I shall strictly obey your order.” Thus requested, Parīkṣit designated four places for Kali’s residence—gambling, drinking, illicit association with women, and slaughter—where the fourfold irreligion prevails. Still, Kali begged for another abode, and so the king granted him gold. From gold arose falsehood, intoxication, desire, passion, and, as the fifth, enmity. These five places—sources of unrighteousness—were given to Kali by Parīkṣit, the son of Uttara. Abiding by the king’s command, Kali dwelt in these domains. Therefore, Sūta declared, one who desires true welfare should never resort to these, especially those devoted to righteousness—be they kings, leaders, or teachers. Parīkṣit then restored to Dharma, who stood as a bull, his three lost legs: penance, purity, and compassion. Comforted, Dharma stood firm, and the Earth was made to prosper again. Parīkṣit now occupied the royal throne, as entrusted to him by his grandfather when the elder king retired to the forest. At present, this royal sage, radiant with the glory of the Kaurava lineage, resided in illustrious Hastināpura, sovereign and noble. Such was the power of Parīkṣit, son of Abhimanyu, that while he protected the earth, the sages and people could perform great sacrifices undisturbed. Like the sun shining in his celestial chariot, Parīkṣit had cast off all misfortune and enjoyed happiness, honored even by Indra. Turning to the duties of men, Sūta explained: a brāhmaṇa, if beset by hardship, may sustain himself through trade or selling goods, or even by the sword if afflicted, but never by a base, dog-like livelihood. A kṣatriya, in adversity, may take up the work of a vaiśya or hunt, or even act as a brāhmaṇa, but never by lowly means. A vaiśya may perform the work of a śūdra, and a śūdra may do menial crafts, but once freed from hardship, none should seek a blameworthy occupation. Every day, one should worship the gods, sages, ancestors, and all beings—who are forms of the Lord—by study of the Vedas, offerings, gifts, and food, as one is able. With wealth obtained honestly and without oppression, one should support dependents and perform sacrifices, always by just means. One should not become attached to family, nor be careless even as a householder. The wise see the perishable as already gone, even if still present. The gathering of sons, wives, and relatives is like that of travelers on the road; they part from one another as dreams fade after sleep. Thus, reflecting, the liberated one dwells in the household like a guest, unattached, free from possessiveness and ego. With devotion, performing prescribed duties for the Lord’s sake alone, one may remain at home, go to the forest, or, if one has offspring, renounce and wander as a mendicant. But one whose mind is bound to home, tormented by desire for children and wealth, deluded by attachment, is ensnared by notions of ‘mine’ and ‘I’. Such a person laments, “Alas, my aged parents, my wife, my young sons and daughters—helpless without me—how will they survive?” With his heart seized by attachment, his mind unsatisfied and constantly brooding, when he dies, he enters into deep darkness. Sūta then spoke of Parīkṣit’s destiny: he, though burned in his mother’s womb by the weapon of Aśvatthāmā, was protected by Lord Kṛṣṇa’s wondrous grace. Later, when his life was threatened by Takṣaka, born from a brāhmaṇa’s wrath, Parīkṣit was not bewildered by the pain of death, for his mind was fixed upon the Lord. Having abandoned all attachments, understanding the state of the unconquerable soul, Parīkṣit, disciple of Vyāsa, gave up his body in the sacred Gaṅgā. For those who delight in the nectar of the Lord’s stories, there is no confusion even at death’s door, for they remember His lotus feet. So long as Parīkṣit, the great devotee and son of Abhimanyu, ruled the earth, Kali, though present, could not prevail. On the very day and moment when the Lord departed from the earth, Kali, the source of unrighteousness, arrived. Yet the emperor did not hate Kali; like a bee, he took only the essence from every situation, and thus auspicious results came quickly to him, unlike others. What could Kali, bold before the weak but fearful before the strong, do to the wise and fearless? Among the careless, he prowls like a wolf among men, but he cannot touch those who are vigilant and devoted.