King Parīkṣit, seeing Kali standing before him with joined palms, spoke with firm compassion: “For you, who offer respect in this way, there is no need to fear the mighty descendants of Guḍākeśa. Yet, companion of adharma, you must not remain within my realm. Your presence among men has brought forth a host of irreligion—greed, falsehood, theft, impiety, sin, deceit, quarrel, and hypocrisy. Leave this place, O friend of unrighteousness; instead, abide where dharma and truth are honored, especially in those regions where the wise perform sacrifices to worship the Lord of sacrifice. “Where Hari, the blessed Lord, is worshipped in the form of sacrifice, He bestows auspiciousness upon His worshippers. Like the air that pervades within and without, He is the soul of all beings, moving and unmoving.” Sūta continued the tale: Thus instructed by Parīkṣit, Kali trembled with fear before the king, who stood sword in hand, ready to punish. Kali humbly addressed the sovereign: “O King, wherever I might dwell by your command, I see you always present, armed with bow and arrows. Therefore, O upholder of righteousness, designate for me a place where I may reside, faithfully following your order.” Hearing this, Parīkṣit granted Kali four places to dwell: gambling, drinking, association with women outside of dharma, and slaughter—where the fourfold irreligion prevails. But when Kali begged for yet another refuge, the king granted him gold. From this, falsehood, intoxication, desire, passion, and enmity arose as the fifth seat of Kali. Thus, the son of Uttara gave Kali these five abodes as the sources of unrighteousness, and Kali dwelt there, obedient to the king’s command. Therefore, one who seeks true well-being should never resort to such places—especially those devoted to dharma, such as kings, leaders, and teachers. Parīkṣit then restored to Dharma, who stood as a bull, his three lost legs—penance, purity, and compassion—comforting him and causing the earth to prosper. He took up the royal throne, entrusted to him by his grandfather when the old king retired to the forest. Now, that royal sage, radiant with the glory of the Kaurava line, reigns in Hastināpura, illustrious and sovereign. Such is the power of this king, son of Abhimanyu, that while he protects the earth, you are all able to engage in the great sacrifice. Like the sun in his celestial chariot, he shines, having cast off all misfortune, enjoying happiness alongside Indra. Turning to the duties of the varṇas, Sūta explained: A brāhmaṇa in distress may maintain himself by trade or selling goods, or, if afflicted, by the sword—but never by a base or dog-like livelihood. A kṣatriya in adversity may take up the work of a vaiśya or hunting, or even act as a brāhmaṇa, but never by a dog-like livelihood. A vaiśya may take up the work of a śūdra, and a śūdra may do menial crafts; but once freed from hardship, none should seek a blameworthy occupation. Each day, one should worship the gods, sages, ancestors, and all beings—who are but forms of the Lord—by study of the Vedas, offerings, gifts, and food as available. 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 as a householder; the wise see all that is perishable as already gone, even when still present. The meeting of sons, wives, and relatives is like the gathering of travelers, who part as a dream follows sleep. Thus, reflecting in this way, the liberated one dwells in the household like a guest—unbound, free from possessiveness and ego. With devotion, performing prescribed household 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 attached to home, tormented by desire for children and wealth, infatuated with women, and deluded by thoughts of ‘mine’ and ‘I’, becomes bound. Such a person laments, “Alas, my aged parents, my wife, my young sons and daughters—helpless and miserable without me—how will they live, afflicted by suffering?” With his heart seized by attachment, his mind unsatisfied and constantly brooding, when he dies, he enters into deep darkness. Sūta then spoke further: Parīkṣit, though burned in his mother’s womb by the weapon of Aśvatthāmā, was protected by the wondrous grace of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Later, when his life was threatened by Takṣaka, born of a brāhmaṇa’s wrath, he was not bewildered by the pain of death, for his mind was offered to the Lord. Having abandoned all attachments and understood the state of the unconquered, the disciple of Vyāsa gave up his body in the Gaṅgā. For those who delight in the nectar of the Lord’s stories, there is no confusion, even at the time of death, for they remember His lotus feet. So long as the great devotee, the son of Abhimanyu, rules the earth, Kali, though present, cannot prevail. On the very day and at the very moment when the Lord departed from this world, then and there Kali, the source of unrighteousness, entered. Yet, the emperor does not hate Kali, just as a bee takes only the essence from flowers. For him, auspicious results come quickly, not so for others. What can Kali, bold with the weak but fearful of the strong, do to the wise and fearless? Among the careless, he moves like a wolf among men. Thus, O sages, I have narrated the sacred story of Parīkṣit, filled with the glorious tales of Vāsudeva, as you asked. All stories of the Lord, the performer of great deeds, based on His virtues and actions, are to be cherished by those who seek true life. Hearing this, the sages replied: “O gentle Sūta, may you live long with everlasting pure fame, for you proclaim to mortals the nectar of Kṛṣṇa’s deeds. In this uncertain world, where people’s minds are clouded, you make us drink the honey-wine of Govinda’s lotus feet.