By worshipping the Supreme Person even once, one attains a rare state of equality. Diti, for nearly a year, devoted herself in worship to Hari, the Lord. As a result of her dedication, a wondrous transformation took place: together with Indra, fifty other gods emerged as the Maruts. Through the grace of Hari, they dispelled the fault of their mother and were elevated to the status of Soma-drinkers, sharing in the celestial nectar. One day, Diti arose and beheld her sons, glowing with the brilliance of fire, accompanied by their radiant mother. She saw them rejoicing together with Indra, all blameless and filled with joy. Overcome with amazement, Diti turned to Indra and spoke: “My dear child, I undertook this most arduous vow, one that brings fear even to the Adityas, desiring to obtain a single son. Yet, though I had resolved upon one, I now see seven, each multiplied sevenfold. How has this come to be? If you know, my son, speak truly and do not deceive me.” Indra replied with humility, “Mother, understanding your intent, I came close to you. Seizing an opportunity, I divided the embryo, my mind fixed on my own purpose, not on righteousness. I cut your embryo into seven parts, and from each of those arose seven boys. Even as I further divided each, none perished. Witnessing this astonishing outcome, I realized it was the result of your worship of the Supreme Person, for such devotion brings about unimaginable success.” He continued, “Those who worship the Lord without selfish desire are remembered as truly wise, even if they seek nothing for themselves. But those who seek only their own benefit are not so regarded. Who, being wise, would choose the fleeting pleasures of material qualities, which lead even to hell, when one could worship the Lord who bestows the very self, the Lord of the universe and the soul within? Therefore, O Mother, please forgive this great offense of mine, for I acted in childish ignorance. By your good fortune, your children have arisen again from death.” Śrī Śuka continued: Thus, permitted by his mother, Indra, pure-hearted and satisfied, bowed before her together with the Maruts and returned to heaven. “Thus,” Śuka said, “I have told you all you asked regarding the auspicious birth of the Maruts. What more would you know?” Meanwhile, Sūta narrated: King Parīkṣit, deeply troubled, reflected on his blameworthy act toward the sinless and powerful Brahmin, though it was not done with intent. He thought, “Alas, I have acted basely, unworthy of my lineage, against one who is innocent and endowed with hidden strength. Surely, because of my disrespect toward the godly, a great calamity, hard to overcome, will soon befall me. Let it come as it will, as expiation for my sin, so that I may never again act so wrongly.” He resolved, “Today, may the fire of the Brahmin’s anger, kindled against me, consume my kingdom, power, and vast treasury, so that I, unfortunate as I am, may never again harbor such evil thoughts toward Brahmins, gods, or cows.” While thus reflecting, he heard news that the sage’s son had pronounced a curse of death upon him, foretelling that Takṣaka would come. Parīkṣit accepted this as good, for Takṣaka would bring him detachment from worldly attachments. Resolving to renounce all ties to this world and the next, having weighed their worthlessness, he determined to serve the feet of Kṛṣṇa and sat down to fast by the immortal river. This river, whose waters are sanctified by the dust of Kṛṣṇa’s feet and are even more purifying than the Ganges, sanctifies all worlds and their rulers. Who, facing death, would not seek her shelter? Thus, the son of Pāṇḍu undertook the vow of fasting unto death at the bank of the Viṣṇu-pada, fixing his mind solely on Mukunda’s feet, with the resolve of a sage free from all attachments. At that sacred place, great and noble sages arrived with their disciples, purifying the world by their presence. Many came under the pretext of visiting holy sites, for the virtuous themselves sanctify the very places they visit. Among those who gathered were Atri, Vasiṣṭha, Cyavana, Śaradvān, Ariṣṭanemi, Bhṛgu, and Aṅgirā; Parāśara, the son of Gādhi, Rāma, Utathya, Indrapramada, Edhmavāha, Medhātithi, Devala, Ārṣṭiṣeṇa, Bhāradvāja, Gautama, Pippalāda, Maitreya, Aurva, Kavaṣa, Kumbhayoni, Dvaipāyana, and the venerable Nārada. Others, distinguished among deva-sages, brahma-sages, and royal sages, arrived as well, including Aruṇa and his companions. The king, honoring the assembled eminent descendants of sages, bowed his head in reverence. When they were comfortably seated, he approached them with joined palms, his mind clear and intent on his purpose. He spoke: “Ah, among rulers, we are most fortunate, for the greatest have shown us their gracious nature. The dynasty of kings, due to the impurity of neglecting the feet of brāhmaṇas, has been cast far away—alas, such blameworthy deeds.” He continued, “For me, the Supreme Lord of all, seeing my mind repeatedly attached to household affairs, has caused a sense of detachment, rooted in the words of the twice-born, where attachment quickly brings fear. O brāhmaṇas, may you remain with me, who has approached, and may the goddess Gaṅgā, with my mind fixed upon the Lord. Whether by the curse of a brāhmaṇa or by the snake Takṣaka, let it happen; meanwhile, sing the glories of Viṣṇu. May there again be devotion and attachment 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 the brāhmaṇas everywhere.” 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 daughter of the ocean. As the king of men and gods sat fasting, the hosts of gods in heaven praised him, showering flowers upon the earth with joy, and drums resounded again and again. The great sages who had assembled, praising and approving his actions, said, “His conduct is for the welfare of the people, and is adorned by the virtues of the Lord, praised by the highest.” They remarked, “It is not remarkable, O foremost of royal sages, among those devoted to Kṛṣṇa, that they, who once occupied the throne adorned with the royal crown, immediately renounced it, desiring only the Lord’s presence. All of us shall remain here today, until he abandons his body; then this foremost devotee of the Lord will attain the supreme world, free from passion and sorrow.” Hearing the words of the sages, Parīkṣit, along with his teacher Madhucyuda, faultless and eager to hear of Viṣṇu’s deeds, addressed the assembly, greeting those present. He said, “All have gathered here from every direction, as the Vedas take form in the three worlds; here or elsewhere, there is no purpose except the supreme welfare and the nature of the self. Therefore, I ask you, O brāhmaṇas, what should be done, trusting in your guidance; for those who are dying, what is the pure duty? Let those who are engaged deliberate upon it.” Just then, the son of Vyāsa, the venerable one, arrived there by chance, wandering the earth without expectation. His appearance was unusual—his signs unrecognizable, content in his own self, surrounded by children, wearing the garb of a mocker. Though only sixteen years old, he possessed tender feet, hands, thighs, arms, shoulders, and cheeks. His limbs were graceful, his eyes large and elongated, his ears equal to his raised nostrils, his brows beautiful, his face radiant, and his neck well-formed like a conch. His collarbones were hidden, his chest broad and high, his navel deep and whorled, his belly marked with lines and softly rounded. Unclothed, his hair flowed over his face, and his arms were long and graceful, resembling the best among gods.