Indra, the king of the gods, closely observed Diti as she undertook her arduous vow, seeking any fault that would allow him to thwart her purpose. Yet he found her unwavering, steadfast in her resolve, and this left Indra deeply anxious, pondering what means he might use to achieve his aim. One evening, exhausted from the rigors of her vow, Diti ate her meal and, with her feet unwashed and her body not cleansed, she succumbed to sleep, her mind clouded by fate. Seizing this rare opportunity, Indra—master of yoga—entered Diti’s womb by his yogic power while she lay defenseless in slumber. With his thunderbolt, Indra struck the golden-hued embryo within her, splitting it into seven parts. As each part cried out, Indra soothed them, saying again and again, “Do not cry.” But as he continued to divide them, the children, with hands joined in supplication, pleaded, “Why do you wish to kill us, Indra? We are your brothers, the Maruts.” Indra, son of Kausika, replied gently, “Do not fear, my brothers. You are dear to me. You are my attendants, the hosts of Maruts, devoted to me alone.” By the compassion of Śrīnivāsa, Diti’s embryo did not perish, even though Indra struck it repeatedly with his thunderbolt—just as you, O King, survived the weapon of Droṇa. Such is the power of worshipping the Primeval Person: even a single act of devotion brings great equality. For nearly a year, Diti had worshipped Hari, and thus her embryo was protected. In this way, along with Indra, those fifty gods became the Maruts. By Hari’s grace, they dispelled their mother’s fault and were made worthy to partake of Soma. When Diti awoke, she beheld her sons, radiant as fire, rejoicing together with the goddess and Indra, all blameless. She addressed Indra, “My child, I undertook this most difficult vow, which brings fear to the Adityas, desiring to obtain a son. I sought one son, but now seven have become sevenfold—how has this come to pass? If you know, my son, speak the truth and do not deceive me.” Indra replied, “Mother, knowing your intent, I came near. Seizing an opportunity, I divided the embryo, my mind set on my purpose, not on righteousness. I cut your embryo into seven parts, and from them arose seven boys. Even as each was further divided into seven, none perished. Witnessing this most astonishing outcome, I realized it was the result of your worship of the Supreme Person, which brings about such success. Those who worship the Lord, desiring nothing, are truly wise, even if they seek nothing further; but those who seek only their own benefit are not so. Who, being wise, would choose entanglement in material qualities, which leads even to hell, when one can worship the Lord who bestows the self, the Lord of the universe and one’s own soul? Therefore, O Mother, forgive this great offense of mine, who am childish and base. By good fortune, your embryo has arisen again from death.” Śrī Śuka continued: Thus permitted by her, pure-hearted and satisfied, Indra, together with the Maruts, bowed to Diti and returned to heaven. “O King,” Śuka said, “all that you have asked has been told—the auspicious birth of the Maruts. What more would you hear?” Sūta now spoke: The king, Parīkṣit, was deeply troubled, reflecting on the blameworthy act he had committed—not by his own hand, but still feeling the weight of guilt. He thought, “Alas, I have acted basely, like one unworthy, toward the sinless and secretly powerful Brāhmaṇa. Surely, because of my disrespect toward the godly, a great and inescapable calamity will soon befall me. Let it come as it will, as expiation for my sin, so that I may never act so again. Today, may the fire of the angered Brāhmaṇa, which has been kindled against me, consume my kingdom, my power, and my vast treasury, so that I, the unfortunate one, may never again harbor such evil thoughts toward Brāhmaṇas, gods, or cows.” As he reflected thus, he heard how the sage’s son had pronounced his death by Takṣaka, the serpent. He welcomed this, for he saw that Takṣaka would bring detachment to one so deeply attached to worldly things. Having weighed the worthlessness of this world and the next, Parīkṣit resolved to renounce both, to serve Kṛṣṇa’s feet, and sat down to fast by the immortal river. That river, whose waters are mingled with the dust from Kṛṣṇa’s feet and are more purifying than the Ganges, sanctifies all the worlds and their rulers—who, facing death, would not serve her? Thus, the son of Pāṇḍu, resolute, undertook the vow of fasting unto death on the bank of the Viṣṇu-pada, fixing his mind solely on Mukunda’s feet, with the resolve of a sage, freed from all attachments. To that sacred place arrived great and noble sages with their disciples, purifying the world by their presence. Many came under the pretext of visiting holy sites, for the virtuous themselves sanctify the holy places. Among them were Atri, Vasiṣṭha, Cyavana, Śaradvān, Ariṣṭanemi, Bhṛgu, and Aṅgirā; Parāśara, the son of Gādhi, Rāma, Utathya, Indrapramada, and Edhmavāha; Medhātithi, Devala, Ārṣṭiṣeṇa, Bhāradvāja, Gautama, Pippalāda; Maitreya, Aurva, Kavaṣa, Kumbhayoni, Dvaipāyana, and the venerable Nārada, and many others—illustrious among deva-sages, brahma-sages, and royal sages, along with Aruṇa and his companions. The king honored the assembled eminent descendants of sages, bowing his head in reverence. When they were comfortably seated, he approached them with joined hands, his mind clear and intent on his chosen path. He spoke: “Ah, among rulers, we are most fortunate, for the greatest have shown us their gracious nature. The dynasty of kings, because of neglecting the feet of brāhmaṇas, has fallen far—alas, such blameworthy deeds. The Supreme Lord, seeing my mind repeatedly attached to household affairs, has brought me to detachment through the words of the twice-born, where attachment quickly brings fear. O brāhmaṇas, may you remain with me, who has approached you, and may the goddess Gaṅgā stay as well, while my mind is fixed upon the Lord. Whether by the curse of a brāhmaṇa or by the serpent Takṣaka, let it happen; meanwhile, let us sing the glories of Viṣṇu. May there always be devotion and friendship to the infinite Lord and to those who take refuge in Him; wherever I am born among the noble, may there always be friendship, and I bow to brāhmaṇas everywhere.” Having thus resolved, the king sat facing north on the eastern bank, upon a bed of kuśa grass, steadfast, having entrusted the care of his wife and son to the ocean’s daughter. As the king fasted, the hosts of gods in heaven praised him, showering flowers upon the earth in delight, and drums resounded again and again. The great sages, assembled there, praised and approved his actions, saying, “His conduct is for the welfare of the people and is adorned by the virtues of the Lord, praised by the highest.” And truly, O best of royal sages, it is not surprising among those devoted to Kṛṣṇa that they, who once sat upon thrones adorned with crowns, at once renounce all, desiring only the presence of the Lord.