Sūta began: The king, Parīkṣit, was deeply troubled in heart. He reflected sorrowfully on the blameworthy act he had committed—not by his own deliberate will, but still, he thought, “Alas, I have behaved basely, like one without worth, toward the sinless and secretly powerful Brahmin.” Regret filled his mind as he pondered the consequences of his disrespect. He thought, “Surely, because of my lack of respect for the godly, a great calamity—one nearly impossible to overcome—will soon befall me. Let it come as it must, for it will serve as expiation for my sin, and may I never again commit such an offense.” With a heavy heart, he prayed, “Today, may the fire of the Brahmin’s anger, which has been kindled against me, consume my kingdom, my power, and my vast treasury. For I, so unfortunate, must never again foster such evil thoughts toward Brahmins, the gods, or cows.” In this state of remorseful contemplation, Parīkṣit learned that the sage’s son had indeed pronounced a curse of death upon him, decreeing that Takṣaka, the serpent, would be the instrument. Far from despairing, the king saw this as a blessing, for he realized that Takṣaka’s coming would free him from his deep attachments. Having weighed the worthlessness of both this world and the next, Parīkṣit resolved to renounce them both. He decided to dedicate himself to the service of Kṛṣṇa’s feet and sat down to fast unto death by the side of the immortal river. That river, whose waters mingle with the dust from Kṛṣṇa’s feet, is even more purifying than the sacred Ganges. Its waters sanctify all the worlds and their rulers. Who, when facing death, would not seek her shelter? Thus resolved, the noble son of Pāṇḍu undertook the vow of fasting until death on the bank of the Viṣṇu-pada, fixing his mind solely on the feet of Mukunda, freed from all attachments, and with the resolve of a sage. As word spread, great and noble sages arrived at that holy place, accompanied by their disciples. They came under the pretext of visiting holy sites, but in truth, it was the virtuous themselves who sanctified those places. Among the sages who gathered 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 revered Nārada. Many other distinguished sages—deva-sages, brahma-sages, and royal sages—also arrived, along with Aruṇa and his companions. The king honored all these eminent descendants of sages, bowing his head in deep reverence. When they were comfortably seated, Parīkṣit, with a clear mind and intent on his purpose, approached them with hands joined in humility. He addressed them: “Ah, among all rulers, we are the most fortunate, for the greatest among beings 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 has seen my mind repeatedly attached to household affairs, and so, through the words of the twice-born, has caused a sense of detachment to arise, for it is attachment that quickly brings fear.” “O brāhmaṇas, may you remain with me, who has come to you, and may the goddess Gaṅgā remain as well, as I fix my mind upon the Lord. Whether by the curse of a brāhmaṇa or by the snake Takṣaka, let whatever is destined happen; meanwhile, let us sing the glories of Viṣṇu.” “May I always have 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.” Having thus resolved, the king sat facing north on the eastern bank of the river, upon a bed of kuśa grass, steadfast in his vow. He had already entrusted the care of his wife and son to the daughter of the ocean. As the king of men and gods sat in fasting, the hosts of gods in heaven praised him. They showered flowers upon the earth with joy, and the sound of celestial drums resounded again and again. The assembled sages praised Parīkṣit, approving his actions, and said, “His conduct is for the welfare of the people and is 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—who once occupied thrones adorned with royal crowns—immediately renounce them, 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 assembly of sages, Parīkṣit, along with his teacher Madhucyuda, addressed them with respect, greeting all who were present and eager to hear the deeds of Viṣṇu. He said, “All have gathered here from every direction, just as the Vedas manifest in the three worlds. Here or elsewhere, there is no purpose except the supreme welfare and the realization of the self.” “Therefore, I ask you, O brāhmaṇas, what should be done? I trust in your guidance. For those who are dying, what is the pure duty? Let those who are wise deliberate upon it.” At that moment, the son of Vyāsa, the venerable Śukadeva, arrived there by chance, wandering the earth without expectation. His appearance was unassuming; his marks unrecognizable, content in his own gain, surrounded by children, and dressed as a mocker. Though only sixteen years old, his feet, hands, thighs, arms, shoulders, and cheeks were tender and graceful. His limbs were beautiful, his eyes large and elongated, his ears even with his raised nostrils, his brows well-formed, his face radiant, and his neck shaped like a conch. His collarbones were hidden by his broad and high chest, his navel deep and whorled, his belly marked with lines and softly rounded. Unclothed, his hair spread over his face, his arms long and hanging, resembling the best among gods. His complexion was dark, his youthful beauty ever fresh, his limbs marked by auspicious signs. With a charming smile, he captivated the minds of women. Even the sages, though knowing his true nature, rose from their seats to honor him, for his greatness was concealed. Viṣṇurāta, that is, Parīkṣit, worshipped this honored guest with bowed head. When the ignorant women and children withdrew, Śukadeva was seated with honor upon the great seat. There, surrounded by the assemblies of Brahmarṣis, Rājarṣis, and Devarṣis, the illustrious sage shone brilliantly, just as the moon shines surrounded by the planets, stars, and constellations. The king, a devotee of the Lord, approached the sage, who sat peacefully, his wisdom undiminished. Bowing with folded hands, Parīkṣit offered respectful words and inquired with gentle speech. He said, “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 can be said 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 by Viṣṇu.” “May the Lord, Kṛṣṇa—dear to the sons of Pāṇḍu—be pleased with me, for he has accepted the relatives of his paternal aunt out of affection for his own lineage.” “Otherwise, how could we mortals, especially those about to die, have your audience—you whose mind is fixed in the unmanifest, who are perfected and dwelling in the forest?” “Therefore, I ask you, supreme teacher of yogis, about the highest perfection: what should a person do in every way when death is near?” “What should be heard, recited, done, remembered, or worshipped by people, O master? Or, tell me if there is anything else contrary to this.” “Certainly, O brāhmaṇa, the presence of the Lord is not perceived in the homes of householders, not even at the time of milking the cows.” Sūta concluded: Thus addressed and questioned by the king in gentle words, the wise and learned son of Bādarāyaṇa, Śukadeva, prepared to reply.