With sincere devotion, a person may fulfill the prescribed duties of household life, offering all actions for the sake of the Lord alone. Whether remaining at home, journeying to the forest, or—if blessed with children—renouncing the world to wander as a mendicant, one’s path is sanctified when it is dedicated to Him. Yet, for those whose minds are bound to home, tormented by the longing for children and wealth, and infatuated with the pleasures of companionship, the delusion of “mine” and “I” becomes their prison. Such souls, pitiable in their thoughts, are ensnared by attachment. They lament, “Alas, my aged parents, my wife, my young sons and daughters—helpless and miserable without me—how will they survive, afflicted by suffering?” With hearts seized by attachment and minds clouded by longing, they remain unsatisfied, endlessly brooding over their loved ones. When death comes, they enter into deep darkness, lost in the shadows of their own desires. Now listen to the tale of Parīkṣit, as Sūta spoke. This Parīkṣit, though burned by the weapon of Aśvatthāmā, was not slain in his mother’s womb, for the wondrous Lord Kṛṣṇa protected him by His grace. Later, when his life was threatened by Takṣaka, the serpent born from the wrath of a brāhmaṇa, Parīkṣit was not bewildered by the pain of death, for his mind was surrendered to the Lord. Having abandoned all attachments, and understanding the state of the unconquered, Parīkṣit, disciple of Vyāsa, gave up his body in the sacred waters of the Gaṅgā. For those who delight in the nectar of the Lord’s glorious stories, there is no confusion even at the time of death, for they remember His lotus feet. So long as Parīkṣit, the great devotee and son of Abhimanyu, ruled the earth, Kali, though present everywhere, could not prevail. On the very day and at the very moment when the Lord departed from the earth, Kali—the source of unrighteousness—entered. Yet the emperor did not hate Kali; just as a bee takes the essence from flowers, Parīkṣit found auspicious results quickly, unlike others. Kali, bold among the weak but fearful of the strong, can do nothing to the wise and fearless; among the careless, he moves like a wolf among men. Sūta said, “I have described to you this sacred story of Parīkṣit, filled with the tales of Vāsudeva, as you requested. All stories of the Lord—His virtues and actions, His great deeds—should be cherished by those who desire true life.” The sages replied, “O gentle Sūta, may you live long with pure, everlasting 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. We would not trade even a moment of association with the Lord’s devotees for heaven or liberation—what then of other blessings for mortals? Who could ever be satisfied by hearing the nectar of stories about the one who is the supreme refuge of the greatest souls? Even the masters of yoga, the foremost among those born from Brahma, have not reached the end of the qualities of the one who is beyond all qualities. Therefore, you, foremost among those devoted to the Supreme, please narrate to us the noble and pure deeds of Hari, for we are eager to listen.” Thus, Parīkṣit, the great devotee, whose unwavering intelligence was directed toward liberation, attained the feet of the Lord whose banner bears the eagle, through the knowledge spoken by the son of Vyāsa. The sages implored, “Please narrate to us that supremely auspicious, wondrous, and yoga-centered story, whose meaning is not concealed, which is filled with the endless deeds of the Lord and delighted Parīkṣit and the devotees.” Sūta responded, “Ah, today we, though born in a lower lineage, have become blessed by following the elders. The association with the words of the greatest souls swiftly removes the impurity of a bad family and mental distress. How much more, then, for one who praises the Supreme, the ultimate refuge of the greatest souls? The infinite Lord, whose power is boundless, is called limitless because of His supreme qualities. What has already been indicated is sufficient to show the unequalled and unsurpassed qualities of the Lord, whose dust of the feet is sought even by those who have abandoned all else, though He Himself does not seek such worship. Moreover, the water offered for worship by Brahma, produced from the nails of His feet, purifies the world; who in this world, desiring the Lord’s feet, would not be purified by Mukunda? There, those who are devoted, wise ones, suddenly abandon their attachment to the body and its connections, and proceed to the highest state of the swan-like sages, in which nonviolence, tranquility, and one’s own duty prevail. You have questioned me, O Aryamanas, so I shall explain as far as I have realized. Just as birds fly in the sky according to their own capacity, so too the wise attain the path of Vishnu according to their own understanding. Once, as Parīkṣit wandered in the forest for hunting, bow raised, he pursued a deer and became exhausted, greatly hungry and thirsty. Searching for water, he entered a hermitage and saw a sage seated in tranquility, eyes closed. With senses, breath, mind, and intellect restrained, the sage had attained a state beyond the three realms, becoming one with Brahman, unchanging. Covered with matted hair and a deerskin, his throat parched for water, the king begged from him in that condition. Unable to obtain grass, earth, and other offerings, nor the customary water and kind words, feeling as if he had been disregarded, Parīkṣit became angry. Never before had he been so afflicted by hunger and thirst; towards the Brahmin arose envy and anger. Then, in anger, he placed a lifeless snake upon the shoulder of the sage, and, leaving the hermitage, returned to his city. Parīkṣit wondered, “Is this one, with all his senses withdrawn and eyes closed, truly absorbed in meditation, or is it merely a pretense? What might be the case with those of the warrior class?” Meanwhile, the sage’s son, endowed with extraordinary brilliance, was playing among the children. Upon hearing that his father had been wronged by the king, he spoke thus at that very place: “Alas, what injustice by the rulers, like gluttons who eat the offerings! The offense committed against the master by the servants is like that of gatekeepers, or even dogs, against their lord. Though a kṣatriya by birth, he has been appointed by the brāhmaṇas as the guardian of the house; how then should such a doorkeeper be entitled to partake of the household’s provisions? With Kṛṣṇa, the Lord, departed—the guide for those who stray from the path—I now punish those who have broken the bridge of righteousness; behold my power.” Having spoken thus, his eyes reddened with anger, the young sage among his friends, after purifying himself at the Kauśikī river, released a thunderbolt of words.