On the very day and at the very moment when the Supreme Lord departed from this earth, Kali—the source of all unrighteousness—entered the world, following closely in the Lord’s wake. Yet, Emperor Parīkṣit did not harbor hatred toward Kali. Like a bee that gathers nectar from every flower, Parīkṣit took only what was auspicious, and thus, blessings came to him swiftly—unlike others, for whom such fortune was elusive. Kali, bold only among the weak and ever fearful before the strong, could do nothing against the wise and fearless. He prowled among the careless like a wolf among men, seeking opportunity where vigilance was lacking. Thus, I have recounted to you the sacred story of Parīkṣit, filled with the glorious deeds of Vāsudeva, as you requested. Indeed, all tales of the Lord—He who performs wondrous acts—should be cherished by those who seek true life, for His virtues and actions are the very source of auspiciousness. The sages, moved by these words, spoke with affection: “O gentle Sūta, may you live long and your pure fame endure! For you pour forth the nectar of Kṛṣṇa’s deeds for mortals to taste. In this uncertain world, where minds are clouded, you make us drink the honey-wine flowing from Govinda’s lotus feet. We would not exchange even a single moment in the company of the Lord’s devotees for heaven or for liberation itself—what, then, of any other worldly blessing? Who could ever tire of hearing the nectarous stories of the Supreme Shelter of all souls? Even the foremost yogis, born from Brahma, have not reached the end of His qualities, for He is beyond all qualities.” “Therefore, O Sūta, foremost among those devoted to the Supreme, please narrate to us the pure and noble deeds of Hari. We are eager to listen.” For Parīkṣit, the great devotee, his unwavering intelligence fixed on liberation, attained the feet of the Lord whose banner bears the eagle, all through the wisdom imparted by Vyāsa’s son. So the sages entreated: “Please recount to us that supremely auspicious, wondrous, and yoga-centered tale, whose meaning is not concealed, filled with the endless deeds of the Lord, which delighted Parīkṣit and all the devotees.” Sūta replied with humility: “Ah, today we, though born in a lower lineage, have become truly blessed by following the elders. Association with the words of the greatest souls swiftly washes away the impurity of a bad birth and all distress of the mind. How much more so for one who praises the Supreme, the ultimate refuge of the greatest souls! The infinite Lord, whose power is boundless, is called ‘limitless’ because His qualities are supreme.” “What has already been told is enough to show the Lord’s unequalled glory—He whose very foot-dust is sought by those who have renounced all, though He Himself desires no such worship. The water offered by Brahma in worship, born from the nails of His feet, purifies the world; who, seeking the Lord’s feet, would not be purified by Mukunda? In that place, the devoted and wise suddenly abandon all attachment to body and kin, and attain the highest state—where nonviolence, tranquility, and one’s own dharma prevail, as among the swan-like sages.” “I have been questioned by you, O noble ones, and so I will explain as far as I have realized. Just as birds soar in the sky according to their strength, so too the wise attain the path of Viṣṇu according to their understanding.” Now, once, while wandering through the forest in pursuit of game, bow in hand, King Parīkṣit chased a deer. He became exhausted, tormented by hunger and thirst. Searching for water, he entered a hermitage and saw a sage seated in perfect tranquility, his eyes closed in meditation. This sage, with senses, breath, mind, and intellect all restrained, had attained a state beyond the three realms—one with the unchanging Brahman. Clad in matted hair and a deerskin, the king—his throat parched—begged him for water. But finding neither grass, earth, nor customary water and kind words, and feeling neglected, the king became angry. Never before had hunger and thirst so afflicted him; envy and anger toward the Brahmin arose in his heart. In a moment of anger, Parīkṣit placed a lifeless snake upon the sage’s shoulder and, leaving the hermitage, returned to his city. He wondered: “Is this one, with all senses withdrawn and eyes closed, truly absorbed in meditation, or is it mere pretense? What indeed of the ways of kṣatriyas?” Meanwhile, the sage’s son, a boy of remarkable brilliance, was playing with other children. Upon hearing that his father had been wronged by the king, he spoke out: “Alas, what injustice by rulers—like greedy eaters of sacred offerings! The offense committed by servants against their master is like that of gatekeepers, or even dogs, against their lord. Though a kṣatriya by birth, he has been appointed by the brāhmaṇas as guardian of the house—how then should such a doorkeeper partake of the household’s provisions?” “With Kṛṣṇa, the Lord, now departed—the guide for those who stray from the path—I will punish those who have broken the bridge of righteousness. Behold my power!” His eyes red with anger, the boy, after purifying himself at the Kauśikī river, released a thunderbolt of words: “Thus, having transgressed the boundary, Takṣaka, urged by me, will bite this destroyer of the dynasty on the seventh day.” The boy then hurried to the hermitage. Seeing his father with a dead serpent around his neck, he was overcome with sorrow and cried out loudly. The sage, of the Āṅgirasa lineage, hearing his son’s lament, slowly opened his eyes. Seeing the serpent, he cast it off and gently asked, “Child, why are you crying? Who has wronged you?” The boy explained all that had happened. Hearing that the king had been cursed undeservedly, the brāhmaṇa did not rejoice at his son’s act. “Alas, what a great calamity you have caused today! Though the offense is small, the punishment is severe. You should not judge the king, O child of immature mind. By his invincible power, the people enjoy prosperity and security from all sides. When the king—called Naradeva, wielder of the chariot wheel—is disregarded, O dear one, the world will be overrun by thieves and, unprotected, will perish in an instant, like sheep without a shepherd.” “Now, sin will come upon us without end, as people plunder the wealth of those who have lost their protector. They will kill each other, curse, rob, and seize cattle, women, and property. Then, noble dharma will dissolve among men, along with the practices of varṇa and āśrama, rooted in the three Vedas. Thereafter, those absorbed in wealth and pleasure, like dogs and monkeys, will cause the mixing of castes.” Such was the unfolding of destiny, as Kali entered and righteousness was tested, and the tale of Parīkṣit’s fate began its course.