In the palace, Kunti, surrounded by her co-wives and grieving like a gentle doe among wolves, worried for herself and her children, bereft of their father. She imagined how Krishna would console her with kind words and comfort her sons, who now faced a world without their father’s protection. In her anguish, Kunti called out: “Krishna, Krishna! Great yogi, soul of the universe, creator of the world, protect me, O Govinda. I have taken refuge in You and am sinking, along with my children.” She continued, “I see no other refuge for anyone but Your lotus feet, O Lord, You who deliver us from the fearful ocean of birth and death.” Offering salutations, Kunti prayed, “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 then explained: As she remembered her relatives and Krishna, the Lord of the universe, your great-grandmother, O King, began to pray, deeply afflicted by sorrow. Seeing her distress, the noble Vidura—ever impartial in happiness and distress—and the renowned Akrura comforted Kunti, offering reasons related to the birth of her sons to console her. Meanwhile, as the king prepared to depart, he approached the ruler who favored his own sons. Among friends and relatives, prompted by goodwill, Akrura spoke: “O descendant of Vicitravīrya, you who increase the fame of the Kurus, now that your brother Pāṇḍu has departed, you have assumed the throne. By ruling the earth righteously, pleasing the people with virtue, and remaining impartial to your own, you will attain prosperity and fame. Otherwise, if you act differently, you will be condemned and fall into darkness. Therefore, remain impartial toward the Pāṇḍavas and your own sons.” Akrura continued, “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 results of good deeds, and alone also 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 and abandoned by those for whom he was not wise, 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. Still, 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 then narrated: Understanding the king’s intention, that Yadava, 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 continued: 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, Jarāsandha, the king of Magadha. There, they revealed everything to him—the cause of their widowhood. Hearing this painful news, Jarāsandha was filled with grief and anger, and resolved to destroy the Yadava clan. He gathered a vast army: twenty akṣauhiṇīs and three more, besieging Mathurā, the capital of the Yadus, on all sides. Seeing this immense army swelling like the ocean, his city besieged, and his people filled with fear, Kṛṣṇa carefully considered the situation. The Lord Hari, in his human form, reflected on the purpose of his descent, considering the time, place, and circumstances. He resolved: “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. Indeed, for this very purpose have we been born, O Lord, bringer of happiness to the virtuous: remove the burden of the earth, known as the twenty-three armies.” Having consulted together, the two sons of Dasharha, resolute and armed for battle since ancient times, set out, equipped with their weapons and accompanied by a small force. Hari, with Daruka as his charioteer, blew his conch as he set out; then, in the hearts of the enemy soldiers, terror and trembling arose. Seeing them approach, the king of Magadha spoke scornfully: “O Krishna, lowest of men, I do not wish to fight with you, a mere boy, out of shame; nor with you, who hide behind others, O dullard—go away, destroyer of kin, I will not fight you.