As the gathering of sages continued by the banks of the Gaṅgā, many eminent figures arrived—deva-sages, brahma-sages, royal sages, and Aruṇa with his companions. King Parīkṣit, recognizing the greatness of these assembled descendants of sages, honored them and bowed his head in deep reverence. Once everyone was comfortably seated, the king, having offered his respects and with a clear, focused mind, approached them with joined palms, ready to speak and act according to his purpose. Standing before the assembly, Parīkṣit addressed them: “Ah, among rulers, we are truly 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 reflected further: “For me, the Supreme Lord, seeing my mind repeatedly attached to household affairs, has granted a sense of detachment, rooted in the words of the twice-born, where attachment quickly brings fear. O brāhmaṇas, please remain with me, who has approached you, and may the goddess Gaṅgā stay as my mind is fixed upon the Lord. Whether by the curse of a brāhmaṇa or by the snake Takṣaka, let it happen; meanwhile, let us sing the glories of Viṣṇu.” Parīkṣit prayed: “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 brāhmaṇas everywhere.” Resolute in his decision, 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 fasted, the hosts of gods in heaven praised him. They joyfully scattered flowers upon the earth, and drums resounded again and again. The great sages who had assembled praised the king, approving his actions: “His conduct is for the welfare of the people, adorned by the virtues of the Lord, praised by the highest.” They remarked, “It is not surprising, O foremost of royal sages, that those devoted to Kṛṣṇa, who once occupied the throne adorned with the royal crown, immediately renounce 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 these words, Parīkṣit, along with his teacher Madhucyuda, addressed the sages, greeting all present and expressing eagerness to hear the deeds of Viṣṇu. “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, by chance, the son of Vyāsa arrived. He wandered the earth without expectation, his signs unrecognizable, content in his own gain, surrounded by children, wearing the garb of a mocker. Though only sixteen years old, his limbs were tender and graceful, his eyes large and elongated, his ears matched 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. He was 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, and his charming smile 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, offered worship with bowed head to this honored guest. As the ignorant women and children withdrew, he was seated with honor upon the great seat. Surrounded by Brahmarṣis, Rājarṣis, and Devarṣis, the illustrious sage shone brilliantly, just as the moon shines surrounded by hosts of planets, stars, and constellations. The king, a devotee of the Lord, approached the sage, who sat peacefully, his wisdom undiminished. Bowing his head with folded hands, Parīkṣit spoke gently: “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.” He prayed: “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 and 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.” He continued: “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 then said: Thus addressed and questioned by the king in gentle words, the wise and learned son of Bādarāyaṇa replied. He spoke: “The qualities of Śrī are independence and the like; happiness is the end of pleasure and pain. Pain comes from desire for pleasure. The wise one knows bondage and liberation. The fool identifies with body and such; my path is called 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. O Uddhava, all your questions have been properly answered. Why elaborate further on the characteristics of virtue and fault? To see faults in virtues is itself a fault, but virtue is that which is free from both.” Śuka then narrated: The cowherds recounted to the women the wondrous deeds of Kṛṣṇa and Rāma—how they extinguished the forest fire and how Pralamba was slain. Hearing this, the elder cowherds and the women, astonished, considered Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, who had come to Vraja, to be foremost among the gods. Then the rainy season began, arising with all living beings. The horizon was lit up, the sky and earth resounded with thunder. The sky, dense with dark clouds, streaked with lightning and roaring thunder, shone dimly, veiled—like Brahman with qualities. When the time arrived, the clouds began to release, by their own power, the water they had drawn from the earth over eight months.