O King, in this world, no one enjoys eternal companionship—not even with one’s own body, let alone with wife, sons, or others. Each being enters life alone and departs alone; alone one experiences the fruits of good deeds, and alone one suffers the consequences of evil. Wealth gained unrighteously is swiftly seized by others of little wisdom, much like leeches draining water under the guise of friendship. One who, lacking discernment, supports others in ways that are not righteous, relying on his own judgement, finds himself abandoned by his life, wealth, sons, and companions, his efforts unfulfilled. Such a person, having taken on sin for the sake of others, and then deserted by those for whom he was unwise with his wealth, fails in his purpose and plunges into blind darkness, turning away from his own duty. Therefore, O King, recognizing this world as a dream, an illusion, a fleeting fantasy, know yourself by yourself; be equal-minded and peaceful, O master. Dhṛtarāṣṭra replied, “O lord of charity, your auspicious words are so pleasing that I never tire of them, just as a mortal never tires of nectar. Yet, gentle one, though your words are sweet, they do not remain steady in my heart, which is restless with the poison of attachment to my children, as lightning does not linger in the sky. Who can overturn the will of the Lord, O man? He who has descended in the Yadu dynasty to relieve the earth of its burden. He who, by his own inscrutable power, creates the world, divides its qualities, then enters into it—unto him, the Supreme Lord, whose play none can comprehend, who moves within the wheel of worldly existence, I offer my respects.” Śuka then narrated: Understanding the king’s intention, the Yadava, having been permitted by his friends, returned 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 of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Śuka continued: O best of the Bharatas, Asti and Prāpti, the wives of Kaṃsa, grieving over their husband’s death, went to their father’s house. To their father, Jarāsandha, king of Magadha, who was deeply distressed, they revealed all—the cause of their widowhood. Hearing this painful news, Jarāsandha was overwhelmed by grief and anger, and he resolved to destroy the Yadava clan. Surrounded by twenty akṣauhiṇīs and three more, he besieged Mathurā, the Yadus’ capital, on all sides. Seeing this vast army swelling like the ocean, his city surrounded, and his people filled with fear, Kṛṣṇa pondered 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, assembled by the king of Magadha from all the subjugated rulers. The armies, counted by akṣauhiṇīs, with soldiers, horses, chariots, and elephants, must be destroyed, but the king of Magadha is not to be slain, for he will again gather a force. This is my purpose: to relieve the earth’s 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 thus meditated, two radiant chariots suddenly appeared from the sky, complete with drivers and all equipment. Divine, ancient weapons also appeared by chance, and seeing them, Hṛṣīkeśa spoke to Saṅkarṣaṇa: “Behold, O noble one, the calamity that has befallen the Yadus, O Lord of those descended to earth; here is your chariot, along with your beloved weapons. Truly, 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 departed; immediately, terror and trembling arose in the hearts of the enemy soldiers. Seeing them approach, Jarāsandha, king of Magadha, said, “O Krishna, lowest of men, I do not wish to fight 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. But you, Rama, if you have faith, fight and show your courage; either abandon your body, cut down by my arrows, and ascend to heaven, or kill me.” The Blessed Lord replied, “Truly, heroes do not boast; they simply display their valor. We do not heed the words of one who is distressed and facing death, O King.” Śuka continued: The son of Jara then rushed at the two Madhavas, surrounding them with a mighty host—chariots, elephants, horses, and banners—like the wind enveloping the sun and fire with clouds of dust. The women, seeing the two chariots of Hari and Rama, marked with the emblems of Garuda and the palm tree, in the midst of battle, took refuge in ancient towers, palaces, and gateways, overcome with grief and confusion. Hari, seeing his own army—honored by gods and demons—afflicted again and again by the fierce rain of arrows from the enemy host, sounded his supreme Sharnga bow with a thunderous twang. Drawing arrows from his quiver, stringing and releasing volleys of sharp shafts, he struck down chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers, while the whirling discus never left his hand. Elephants with shattered tusks fell in great numbers; horses, their necks severed by arrows, collapsed; chariots, with their horses, banners, drivers, and leaders slain, and foot soldiers with arms, thighs, and necks cut, lay scattered. As the limbs of elephants, horses, and men were severed, rivers of blood flowed in hundreds, filled with arms, horse heads, human skulls, and turtle-like torsos, crowded with the corpses of slain elephants, horses, and warriors. These rivers had waves of arms, hair as waterweeds, bows as currents, and were choked with clusters of weapons; their terrifying whirlpools were formed by spinning swords, and they sparkled with gems, pearls, ornaments, and stones. In that battle, Saṅkarṣaṇa, of immeasurable brilliance, wielding his mace, struck down the arrogant foes, causing terror among the timid and joy among the brave, as the warriors destroyed each other.