After his brother’s tragic death, Gokarna wandered the world, crying out in anguish, “Alas, fate!” He found no shelter anywhere, his heart heavy with sorrow. In time, Gokarna learned from others of his brother Dhundhukari’s passing. Recognizing how helpless his brother had been, Gokarna performed the sacred funeral rites at Gaya for him. Not content with just one offering, wherever Gokarna traveled to a holy place, he conducted the rites there, hoping to grant his brother peace. Thus, after much wandering, Gokarna eventually returned to his own city. One night, he lay down to sleep in the courtyard of his house, unnoticed by anyone. While Gokarna slept, Dhundhukari, his departed brother, appeared to him in the dead of night, revealing himself in a most terrifying form. Before Gokarna’s eyes, Dhundhukari transformed—first into a sheep, then an elephant, a buffalo, Indra, Agni, and again a man, each form only once. Witnessing these bewildering changes, Gokarna remained composed and resolute. He understood that this was a soul in great misery, and he spoke to the apparition. He asked, “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 us.” Thus questioned, the being cried out loudly again and again, unable to form words, expressing only gestures of consciousness. Seeing his suffering, Gokarna took water in his hands and raised him up. Freed by this single act, the tormented soul began to speak. The ghost said, “I am your brother, Dhundhukari. By my own fault, I have destroyed my human birth. My deeds, born of great ignorance, are beyond counting. I harmed the worlds and was killed by women through suffering. Thus, I have become a ghost, bearing this wretched state. I live on air, receiving only what fate allows.” He pleaded, “O friend, ocean of compassion, brother—quickly release me!” Hearing these words, Gokarna replied, “For your sake, I have duly offered the ancestral oblation at Gaya. How is it that you have not been liberated? This is truly astonishing to me. If liberation does not come even from the Gaya śrāddha, then there is no other means here. What should I do for you, O departed one? Tell me the truth in detail.” The departed one answered, “Even with a hundred Gaya śrāddhas, I will not attain liberation. Consider now some other means for my release.” Gokarna was amazed. “If liberation is not gained even by a hundred śrāddhas, then your release is indeed difficult. Still, remain in your own place, O departed one, without fear. I will consider and perform some act that will bring about your liberation.” Thus instructed, Dhundhukari went to his own place, while Gokarna spent the night deep in thought, unable to sleep. In the morning, as Gokarna arrived, people gathered joyfully to see him. He told them everything that had transpired during the night. The learned, the steadfast in yoga, the wise, and those versed in the Vedas all examined the scriptures, but none could find a means for Dhundhukari’s liberation. Then, all agreed that the words of the Sun were supreme regarding this matter. At that moment, Gokarna restrained the speed of the Sun and prayed, “O witness of the world, I offer my respects. Tell me the cause of liberation.” Hearing this from afar, the Sun spoke clearly, “Recite the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam for seven days—this brings liberation.” All recognized this as the true form of dharma and said, “This must be done with effort, for it is indeed easy.” Gokarna resolved to begin the recitation. For the sake of hearing it, people came from villages and regions—the lame, the blind, the old, and the slow—all longing for the destruction of their sins. A great assembly formed, so wondrous that even the gods marveled, as Gokarna took his seat and began to narrate the sacred story. At that time, the departed Dhundhukari also arrived, looking everywhere for a place to listen. He saw a bamboo with seven knots, standing upright. Entering a hole at its base, he stood inside, unable to remain in his ghostly, wind-like form, and so entered the bamboo. Recognizing the chief Vaiṣṇava brāhmaṇa as the foremost listener, Gokarna, son of Dhenu, began the clear narration from the first book of the Bhāgavatam. At the end of the first day, when the verse was recited, a wondrous event occurred: the first knot in the bamboo split open with a sound, witnessed by the virtuous assembly. On the second evening, the second knot broke; on the third day, the third; in this way, over seven days, all seven knots were broken. Having listened to the twelve cantos, Dhundhukari abandoned the state of a departed soul. He assumed a divine form, adorned with a garland of tulasi, clad in yellow garments, dark as a rain cloud, crowned and wearing earrings. He immediately bowed to his brother Gokarna and said, “By your compassion, I have been freed from bondage and the impurity of being a departed soul.” He declared, “Blessed is the discourse of the Bhagavata, which destroys the suffering of departed souls; blessed too is the seven-day recitation, which grants the fruit of attaining Krishna’s realm. All sins tremble when the seven-day hearing is undertaken; this narration will bring about our immediate deliverance. Whether moist or dry, light or heavy, done by speech, mind, or action, hearing burns away sin, just as fire consumes fuel. In this land of Bharata, among the wise and in the assembly of gods, the birth of those who do not hear the narration is declared fruitless. What is the use of protecting a well-nourished, strong body, which is unstable, without hearing the teachings of Shuka?” Thus, the power of the Bhāgavatam and the compassion of Gokarna brought liberation not only to Dhundhukari, but to all who listened with faith.