Seeing the most astonishing outcome brought about by his own actions, Indra realized that such success was not merely his doing, but the result of worshiping the Supreme Person. He understood that it was by the grace of the Lord that such wonders were possible. He reflected, “Those who worship the Lord without desire for personal gain are truly wise, even if they seek nothing else. But those who worship only for their own benefit do not possess such wisdom. Who, being wise, would choose the company of material qualities, which can lead even to hell, when one could instead worship the Lord—the giver of the self, the master of the universe, and the soul within all?” Turning to Diti, Indra spoke with humility: “Therefore, O Mother, please forgive this grave offense of mine. I acted out of childish ignorance. By good fortune, your embryo has returned from death.” Śrī Śuka then said: Thus permitted by her, Indra, pure-hearted and satisfied, bowed to Diti with the Maruts and returned to heaven. Śuka concluded, “Thus I have told you all you asked regarding the auspicious birth of the Maruts. What more would you hear?” Meanwhile, elsewhere, Sūta recounted the tale of King Parīkṣit. The king, deeply troubled, pondered over an act of blame that he had not committed himself, lamenting, “Alas, I have acted basely, like one unworthy, toward the sinless and secretly powerful Brahmin. Surely, because of my disrespect for the godly, a great and difficult calamity will soon befall me. Let it come as it will, for it will atone for my sin, and may I never again act in such a way.” He continued, “Let the fire of the Brahmin’s anger, kindled against me, consume my kingdom, my power, and my great treasury. May I, the unfortunate one, never again harbor such evil thoughts toward Brahmins, gods, or cows.” As he reflected thus, he heard how the sage’s son had pronounced a curse of death—Takṣaka, the serpent, would come for him. Parīkṣit accepted this as good, for the coming of Takṣaka would bring detachment to one so attached to worldly things. Resolving to renounce both this world and the next, having weighed their worthlessness, Parīkṣit decided to dedicate himself to Kṛṣṇa’s feet and sat down to fast by the immortal river. This river, whose waters are sanctified by the dust from Kṛṣṇa’s feet, is even more purifying than the Ganges, and sanctifies all worlds and their rulers. Who, facing death, would not seek her shelter? Thus, the son of the Pāṇḍavas, resolute, undertook the vow of fasting unto death on the bank of the river Viṣṇu-pada, fixing his mind solely on the feet of Mukunda, with the determination of a sage, freed from all attachments. As news spread, great and noble sages arrived at that sacred place, accompanied by their disciples. Many came under the pretext of visiting holy sites, for it is the virtuous themselves who sanctify these places. Among those who gathered were Atri, Vasiṣṭha, Cyavana, Śaradvān, Ariṣṭanemi, Bhṛgu, and Aṅgirā; Parāśara, Viśvāmitra (the son of Gādhi), Rāma, Utathya, Indrapramada, and Edhmavāha; Medhātithi, Devala, Ārṣṭiṣeṇa, Bhāradvāja, Gautama, Pippalāda; Maitreya, Aurva, Kavaṣa, Kumbhayoni, Dvaipāyana (Vyāsa), and the venerable Nārada. Many other illustrious deva-sages, brahma-sages, and royal sages came as well, including Aruṇa and his companions. The king, honoring these eminent descendants of sages, bowed his head in deep reverence. When they were comfortably seated, he approached them with joined palms, offering his respects and preparing to act according to his purpose. Parīkṣit addressed them: “Ah, among rulers, we are most fortunate, for the greatest have shown us their grace. The dynasty of kings, due to the impurity of neglecting the feet of brāhmaṇas, has been cast far away—such blameworthy deeds! For me, the Supreme Lord, seeing my mind repeatedly attached to household affairs, has granted me a sense of detachment, rooted in the words of the twice-born, where attachment quickly brings fear.” He continued, “O brāhmaṇas, please remain with me, who has approached you, and may the goddess Gaṅgā remain as well, for my mind is fixed upon the Lord. Whether it be by the curse of a brāhmaṇa or by the serpent Takṣaka, let it happen as it will. Meanwhile, sing the glories of Viṣṇu.” “May there always 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 brāhmaṇas everywhere.” Resolute in his decision, the king sat facing north on the eastern bank of the river, upon a bed of sacred kuśa grass, steadfast, having entrusted the care of his wife and son to the daughter of the ocean. As Parīkṣit sat in fasting, the hosts of gods in heaven praised him, showering flowers upon the earth with joy, and the sound of drums resounded again and again. The great sages assembled there praised him and approved his actions, saying, “His conduct is for the welfare of the people, adorned by the virtues of the Lord, praised by the highest.” They added, “It is not surprising, O foremost of royal sages, that those devoted to Kṛṣṇa, once occupying the throne adorned with the royal crown, immediately renounce it, desiring only the Lord’s presence. We shall remain here until he leaves his body, and then this foremost devotee will attain the supreme world, free from passion and sorrow.” Hearing the words of the assembled sages, Parīkṣit, together with his teacher Madhucyuda, and without fault, addressed them, greeting those present and eager to hear the deeds of Viṣṇu. He said, “All have gathered here from every direction, just 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, O brāhmaṇas, I ask you: what should be done? For those who are dying, what is the pure duty? Let those who are engaged deliberate upon it.” At that moment, the son of Vyāsa, the venerable Śuka, arrived there by chance, wandering the earth without expectation. His appearance was unassuming, his signs unrecognizable, content with whatever came to him, surrounded by children, and wearing the garb of a mocker. Though only sixteen years old, he had tender limbs—feet, hands, thighs, arms, shoulders, and cheeks—graceful in form. His eyes were large and elongated, his ears matched his prominent nose, his brows were 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 spread over his face, and his arms were long and reaching, resembling those of the best among gods. His complexion was dark, his youthful beauty ever fresh, and his limbs bore auspicious marks. With a charming smile, he captivated the minds of women. Even the sages, though aware of his true nature, rose from their seats to honor him, for his greatness was concealed. Viṣṇurāta, or Parīkṣit, bowed his head and offered worship to this honored guest. As the women and children withdrew, Śuka was seated with honor upon the great seat prepared for him. There, surrounded by the great ones—assemblies of Brahmarṣis, Rājarṣis, and Devarṣis—the illustrious sage shone brilliantly, just as the moon shines surrounded by planets, stars, and constellations. The king, ever devoted to the Lord, approached the sage, who sat peacefully, his wisdom undiminished. Bowing with folded hands, Parīkṣit offered respectful words and inquired with gentle speech: “O brāhmaṇa, today we, mere kṣatriyas, have become worthy of service, for by your mercy you have come as a guest and made our land holy. By remembering you, the houses of men are instantly purified—what then of seeing you, touching you, washing your feet, or offering you a seat and so on? By your presence, O great yogi, even the gravest sins of people are immediately destroyed, just as the demons are destroyed by Viṣṇu.