Pṛthā and Vidura sat together, recounting to Akrura all the wrongs committed by the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra—every misdeed, from the poisoning to the many injustices suffered by the Pāṇḍavas. When Pṛthā saw her brother Akrura arrive, emotion overtook her; tears welled in her eyes as memories of her birthplace flooded back. She approached him and spoke softly, her voice trembling with longing: “O gentle one, do our parents, brothers, sisters, nephews, sisters-in-law, and friends remember us still? Does Krishna, our illustrious cousin and refuge of His devotees, and Rama, lotus-eyed and compassionate, remember their maternal aunt’s children?” Her grief deepened as she reflected on her situation: “In the midst of my co-wives, I mourn like a doe among wolves. Krishna will console me with His words and comfort my children, who are bereft of their father. Krishna, Krishna—great yogi, soul of the universe, creator of all—protect me, O Govinda, for I have taken refuge in You and am sinking with my children. I see no other shelter for anyone but Your lotus feet, O Lord, who delivers souls from the fearful ocean of birth and death. Salutations to Krishna, the pure, the Supreme Spirit, the Supreme Soul, the Lord of yoga and embodiment of yoga; I have sought refuge in You.” Śuka, the sage, narrated: “Thus, remembering her relatives and Krishna, the Lord of the universe, your great-grandmother, O King, began to pray, deeply afflicted by sorrow.” Vidura, ever impartial in happiness and distress, and Akrura, renowned for his wisdom, comforted Kunti with words about the birth and destiny of her sons. As the time came for Akrura to depart, he approached King Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who favored his own sons, and spoke among the gathered friends and relatives, prompted by goodwill. Akrura addressed him: “O descendant of Vicitravīrya, you who increase the fame of the Kurus, now that your brother Pāṇḍu has passed, you have assumed the throne. Rule the earth righteously, please the people with virtue, and remain impartial to your own—thus you will attain prosperity and fame. Otherwise, if you act differently, you will be condemned and fall into darkness; therefore, show equal regard for the Pāṇḍavas and your own sons. In this world, O King, no one has perpetual association with anyone—not even with one’s own body, let alone wife, sons, and others. A being is born alone and dies alone; alone one enjoys the fruits of good deeds and suffers the results of evil. Wealth acquired unrighteously is seized by others of little intelligence, just as leeches take water under the pretext of friendship. He who, lacking wisdom, supports others unrighteously by his own judgment, finds that his life, wealth, sons, and others abandon him unfulfilled. Having taken on sin himself, abandoned by those for whom he was not wise in wealth, he, failing in his purpose, enters blind darkness, turning away from his own duty. Therefore, O King, seeing this world as a dream, illusion, and fantasy, know yourself by yourself, and be equal-minded and peaceful, O master.” Dhṛtarāṣṭra replied: “O lord of charity, just as you speak these auspicious words, so I am never satisfied by them, as a mortal is never satisfied upon obtaining nectar. Yet, gentle one, though words may be sweet, they do not remain steady in the heart, which is restless with the poison of attachment to one’s children, just as lightning does not linger in the sky. Who indeed can overturn the will of the Lord, O man? He who has descended in the Yadu dynasty for the removal of the earth’s burden. He who, by his own inscrutable power, creates this world and divides the qualities, then enters into it—unto Him, the Supreme Lord, whose play is beyond comprehension, who moves within the wheel of worldly existence, I offer my respects.” Śuka continued: “Understanding the king’s intention, that Yadava, Akrura, having been permitted by his friends, returned again to the city of the Yadus. He reported to Rāma and Kṛṣṇa all that Dhṛtarāṣṭra had done regarding the Pāṇḍavas, for which he himself had been sent.” Thus concludes the forty-ninth chapter of the first half of the tenth book in the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Śuka resumed his narration: “O best of the Bharatas, Asti and Prāpti, the wives of Kaṃsa, grieving at the death of their husband, went to the house of their father. To their father, Jarāsandha, the king of Magadha, who was himself distressed, they revealed everything—the cause of their widowhood. Hearing this unpleasant news, Jarāsandha, filled with grief and anger, made a great effort to destroy the Yadava clan. Surrounded by twenty akṣauhiṇīs and three more, he besieged Mathurā, the capital of the Yadus, on all sides. Seeing that vast army, swelling like the ocean, and his own city besieged, with his people filled with fear, Kṛṣṇa considered the situation. The Lord Hari, in his human form, reflected on the purpose of his descent, considering the time, place, and circumstances: ‘I will destroy this force, which has gathered as a burden upon the earth, brought together by the king of Magadha from all the subjugated rulers. The armies, counted by akṣauhiṇīs with soldiers, horses, chariots, and elephants, are to be destroyed, but the king of Magadha is not to be slain, for he will again assemble a force. This is the purpose of my descent: to relieve the earth of its burden, to protect the virtuous, and to destroy others. Another body is also assumed by me for the protection of dharma, and, when adharma arises at certain times, for its cessation.’ As Govinda was thus meditating, two chariots, radiant as the sun, suddenly appeared from the sky, complete with drivers and all equipment. Divine, ancient weapons also appeared by chance. Seeing them, Hṛṣīkeśa spoke to Saṅkarṣaṇa: ‘Behold, O noble one, the calamity that has befallen the Yadus, O Lord of those who have descended to earth; here is your chariot, along with your beloved weapons.