At the age of sixty, compelled by his son’s words yet resolute in his purpose, a noble man left behind his home and journeyed to the forest. There, each day, he devoted himself to the service of Lord Hari, reciting the sacred Tenth Canto, and through this devotion, he attained the grace of Śrī Kṛṣṇa. In due course, he resided in the celestial city, amidst gardens radiant with the splendor of the gods. He dwelled in the palace of Indra, a wondrous abode crafted by Viśvakarmā himself, where the fortune of all three worlds resided, and all forms of prosperity were present. This man was blessed with knowledge, wealth, and noble birth, yet he remained free from pride and arrogance. When the father eventually departed from this world, his wife—the mother—was cruelly beaten by their son. Driven by greed, he threatened her, demanding, “Tell me where the wealth is kept, or I will kill you with this stick!” Terrified by his words and overwhelmed by sorrow for her son, the mother, in the darkness of night, threw herself into a well and met her end. The son named Gokarṇa, established in yoga, left home and set out on pilgrimage. He remained untouched by sorrow or joy, and harbored neither enemies nor friends. But his brother, Dhundhukārī, stayed at home, surrounding himself with five courtesans. Deluded by his need to support them, he committed extremely cruel deeds. One day, the courtesans, desiring ornaments, incited him further. Blinded by lust and heedless of death, he left to obtain these treasures. He gathered wealth from various places, returned home, and offered the women fine clothes, ornaments, and many gifts. Observing the large accumulation of riches, the courtesans worried among themselves at night, “He steals every day; surely the king will arrest him. Once the king seizes the wealth, he will certainly kill Dhundhukārī. So, to protect ourselves, why shouldn’t we secretly kill him first?” Resolved, they bound him with ropes as he slept and began to kill him, taking the wealth and fleeing elsewhere. They placed a noose around his neck, but though they acted swiftly, he did not die, and they grew anxious. Finally, they forced burning coals into his mouth; tormented by the flames, Dhundhukārī perished. The reckless women abandoned his body in a pit, and no one knew the truth of what had happened. When questioned by others, they would say, “He has gone far away, for he is dear to us; he will return this year, drawn away by greed for wealth.” The narrative warns: a wise person should never trust wicked women, for the fool who does is overwhelmed by suffering. The words of lustful women are sweet as nectar and bring pleasure, but their hearts are sharp as razors—who among men is truly dear to them? After seizing his wealth, these promiscuous women, who had many husbands, departed. Thus, Dhundhukārī became a great ghost, tormented by the results of his evil deeds. Taking the form of a whirlwind, he wandered in all directions, suffering from heat and cold, without food or water, and finding no shelter anywhere. He cried out in despair, “Alas, fate!” After some time, Gokarṇa heard from the people of his brother’s death. Recognizing Dhundhukārī’s helpless state, Gokarṇa performed the funeral rites at Gayā, and wherever he traveled to holy places, he offered rites for his brother. After wandering thus, Gokarṇa returned to his own city. One night, he lay down to sleep in the courtyard of his house, unseen by others. There, as Gokarṇa slept, Dhundhukārī appeared to his brother in the dead of night, revealing a most terrifying form. In an instant, he became a sheep, then an elephant, a buffalo, Indra, Agni, and again a man—each form only once. Witnessing these transformations, Gokarṇa, composed and resolute, realized this was a soul in deep misery and spoke to him: “Who are you, so fierce in the night? From where have you come to this condition? Are you a ghost, a goblin, or a demon? Tell me.” Questioned thus, the spirit wailed loudly, unable to speak, expressing only gestures of consciousness. Gokarṇa then took water in his hands and raised him up. Freed by this single act, the tormented soul began to speak: “I am your brother, Dhundhukārī. Through my own faults, I have destroyed my human birth. There is no count of my misdeeds, born of ignorance. I have harmed the worlds and was killed by women through suffering. Thus, I have become a ghost, bearing this wretched state, living on air, and receiving the results of my actions as fate allows. O friend, ocean of compassion, brother—quickly release me!” Hearing these words, Gokarṇa replied, “For your sake, I have performed the ancestral oblation at Gayā. How is it that you have not been liberated? This truly astonishes me. If even the Gayā śrāddha does not grant liberation, what else can be done? Tell me the truth in detail.” Dhundhukārī replied, “Even with a hundred Gayā śrāddhas, I will not be freed. Consider some other means for my release.” At these words, Gokarṇa was amazed. “If liberation is not gained even by a hundred śrāddhas, then your release is indeed difficult. Now, remain in your own place without fear. I will consider and perform some act for your liberation.” Thus instructed, Dhundhukārī went to his own place, while Gokarṇa spent the night deep in thought, unable to sleep. In the morning, when the people saw Gokarṇa arrive, they gathered around him with joy, and he recounted to them everything that had happened during the night.