Having weighed the worthlessness of both this life and the next, King Parīkṣit, his mind resolute and free from all attachments, renounced everything. He resolved to dedicate himself wholly to the service of Kṛṣṇa’s lotus feet and sat down to fast until death on the bank of the immortal river. This river, whose sacred waters are mingled with the dust from Kṛṣṇa’s own feet, is even more purifying than the Ganges herself. She sanctifies all the worlds and their rulers; who, standing on the threshold of death, would not seek her refuge and serve her? Thus, the son of Pāṇḍu, having made his firm vow, sat by the Viṣṇu-pada, fixing his mind solely upon the feet of Mukunda, steadfast as a sage, his heart freed from all worldly ties. Word of his resolve spread, and soon the greatest and most virtuous sages of the world began to arrive, each with their disciples. Though many came under the pretense of visiting a holy place, in truth, it was their own presence that sanctified the land. Among those who gathered were the venerable 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 illustrious Nārada. Along with them came many other distinguished sages—deva-rishis, brahma-rishis, and rāja-rishis—accompanied by Aruṇa and his companions. King Parīkṣit honored these eminent descendants of sages, bowing his head in deep reverence. Once the assembly was seated comfortably, Parīkṣit, having paid his respects and with a clear mind intent upon his purpose, approached the sages, standing before them with joined palms. He spoke humbly: “Alas, among rulers, we are now the most fortunate, for the greatest of souls have blessed us with their presence. The dynasty of kings, through neglect of the brāhmaṇas’ feet, has fallen far from grace—what blameworthy deeds we have done!” He continued, “For me, the Supreme Lord, seeing my mind repeatedly drawn to household affairs, has granted me detachment, rooted in the words of the twice-born, for where there is attachment, fear quickly follows. O brāhmaṇas, please remain with me, who has sought your shelter, and may the goddess Gaṅgā stay as I fix my mind upon the Lord. Whether by the curse of a brāhmaṇa or the bite of Takṣaka, let my end come as it will; meanwhile, let the glories of Viṣṇu be sung.” “May devotion and attachment to the infinite Lord, and to those who take refuge in Him, ever be mine. Wherever I am born among the virtuous, may I always have friendship with devotees, and let me bow to the brāhmaṇas everywhere.” Having thus resolved, the king sat facing north on the eastern bank, upon a bed of kuśa grass, his mind steadfast, having entrusted the care of his wife and son to the daughter of the ocean. As he sat in his vow of fasting, the hosts of gods in heaven rejoiced, showering flowers upon the earth and sounding their drums in praise of his noble act. The assembled sages, approving and praising his conduct, declared, “His actions are for the welfare of the people and are 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—though once crowned kings—renounce everything at once, desiring only the Lord’s presence.” The sages resolved, “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 their words, Parīkṣit, together with his teacher Madhucyuda, greeted the gathering with humility, eager to hear of Viṣṇu’s deeds. He said, “All have gathered here from every direction, just as the Vedas manifest in the three worlds. Here or elsewhere, there is no other purpose but the supreme welfare and realization of the self.” He then addressed the sages: “Therefore, I ask you, O brāhmaṇas, what is the pure duty for one who is dying? Please deliberate and instruct me, for I trust in your guidance.” At that moment, the venerable son of Vyāsa, the illustrious Śuka, arrived there by chance, wandering the earth without expectation. His appearance was unassuming, his marks unrecognizable, content in his own gain, surrounded by children, wearing the garb of a mocker. He was in his sixteenth year, with tender feet, hands, thighs, arms, shoulders, and cheeks; his limbs graceful, his eyes large and elongated, his ears even with his raised nostrils, his brows beautiful, his face radiant, and his neck shaped 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 fell over his face, his arms long and hanging, resembling 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 knowing his true nature, rose from their seats to honor him, for his greatness was concealed. King Parīkṣit, recognizing the honored guest, bowed his head and offered worship to Śuka. After the women and children withdrew, Śuka was seated with honor upon the great seat. There, surrounded by the assemblies of Brahmarṣis, Rājarṣis, and Devarṣis, the illustrious sage shone brilliantly, like the full moon encircled by the stars and planets. The king, a devoted servant of the Lord, approached the sage, who sat peacefully, his wisdom undiminished. Bowing with folded hands, Parīkṣit spoke with gentle reverence: “O brāhmaṇa, today we, mere kṣatriyas, have become worthy of service, for by your mercy you have come as a guest and sanctified our land. By remembering you, the homes 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 are destroyed, just as Viṣṇu destroys the demons.” “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, perfected and dwelling in the forest?” “Therefore, I ask you, supreme teacher of yogis: What is the highest perfection? What should a person do in every way when death is near? What should be heard, recited, done, remembered, or worshipped, O master? Or, if there is anything else contrary to this, please tell me.” He added, “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 said: Thus addressed and questioned by the king in gentle words, the wise and learned son of Bādarāyaṇa replied. He spoke of the qualities of Śrī—independence and the like. True happiness, he said, is the end of pleasure and pain; pain arises from desire for pleasure. The wise know the difference between bondage and liberation. The fool identifies with the body and such, but the true path is that of the Veda. Distraction of mind is a wrong path; heaven is the rise of sattva-guṇa. Hell is darkness and pride; friend, teacher, and self are one. Home is the body; humanity is wealth in qualities, and the truly wealthy is so called. He is poor who is not content; pitiable is he who has not mastered his senses. One whose mind is unattached to the qualities is a lord; attachment to the qualities is the opposite. Thus, in the presence of the assembled sages and the holy river, King Parīkṣit, guided by the words of the wise, prepared to meet his end with his mind fixed on the Lord, seeking the highest good.