As the fierce duel between Bhīma and Jarāsandha raged on, the two mighty warriors, their anger blazing, struck each other with their iron-hard fists as well as their heavy maces. The thunderous sounds of their blows echoed like the crash of thunderbolts, the air resounding with the slapping of their palms as each sought to overpower the other. Both were equals in skill, strength, and vigor, and as they exchanged blow for blow, neither showed any sign of slowing. The onlookers could not discern any advantage for either side—the battle was perfectly matched, and neither hero’s speed diminished, O King. Thus, day after day, the struggle continued, and twenty-seven days passed as the two fought relentlessly. Each night, their friends and companions stood by, watching anxiously as the contest showed no sign of resolution. At last, Bhīma—Vṛkodara himself—turned to his maternal cousin, Kṛṣṇa, and confessed, “O Mādhava, I am not able to defeat Jarāsandha in battle.” Kṛṣṇa, who knew both the origin and the secret of Jarāsandha’s life—how his existence was sustained by the joining of two halves by Jara—understood what must be done. With compassion and wisdom, Hari infused Pārtha with his own divine energy and pondered the means to bring down their formidable foe. Having conceived a decisive plan, Kṛṣṇa, whose vision never fails, gave Bhīma a subtle sign. He tore a branch in two, demonstrating the method by which Jarāsandha could be slain. Bhīma, the foremost of fighters, instantly understood the Lord’s intention. With renewed might, he seized Jarāsandha by the feet, hurled him to the ground, and, pressing one foot upon his enemy’s leg while grasping the other with his arms, tore him apart at the hips—just as a great elephant splits a branch. All who witnessed the scene saw Jarāsandha’s body divided into two parts: one with a single leg, thigh, testicle, hip, back, breast, and shoulder; the other with one arm, eye, brow, and ear. A tremendous outcry arose at the death of the king of Magadha, and the victors embraced and honored Bhīma, together with Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, the infallible ones. Kṛṣṇa, the Lord, creator of beings and master of himself, then anointed Sahadeva, the son of Jarāsandha, as king of the Magadhas. He released all the kings whom Jarāsandha had imprisoned, restoring freedom to the many who had suffered in bondage. Thus ends the seventy-second chapter, “The Slaying of Jarāsandha,” in the second half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Śuka continued: Sixteen thousand eight hundred kings, who had been defeated in battle and long held captive by Jarāsandha, emerged from the mountain cave where they had been confined. Their bodies were frail and dirty, their garments soiled from long captivity. Emaciated by hunger, their faces drawn and pale, they were tormented by the suffering of their imprisonment. Yet before them now stood the dark-complexioned Lord, dressed in radiant yellow silk. They beheld him marked with the Śrīvatsa, his four arms adorned with the lotus, mace, conch, and discus. His lotus-like reddish eyes shone with compassion, his beautiful face graced by shining makara-shaped earrings. He wore a crown, necklace, bracelets, a girdle, and armlets. His neck gleamed with the finest jewels and was garlanded with wild forest flowers. The kings gazed upon Kṛṣṇa, drinking in his presence with their eyes, as if tasting him with their tongues, seeming to smell his fragrance with their noses and to embrace him with their arms. Freed from the taint of sin, they bowed low, placing their heads at Hari’s feet. Delighted by the sight of Kṛṣṇa, all the fatigue and suffering of their captivity vanished. With palms joined in reverence, the kings began to praise Hṛṣīkeśa with heartfelt words: “Salutations to you, Lord of gods, imperishable remover of the distress of those who seek refuge! We have sought your shelter, O Kṛṣṇa—protect us, weary as we are of this terrible cycle of birth and death. “O Madhusūdana, we do not blame you for the loss of our kingdoms at the hands of the Magadhan. O Lord, for us kings, your favor is truly the cause. “A king, intoxicated by sovereignty and opulence, never attains true welfare. Deluded by your māyā, he considers fleeting riches to be unshakable. “Just as children imagine water in a mirage, so too do those lacking discernment mistake the illusory for the real. “Once, blinded by the intoxication of prosperity, we vied with one another, driven by the desire to conquer, mercilessly destroying our own subjects, O Lord, heedless of death looming before us. “But those riches, O Kṛṣṇa, have been swept away by your profound and irresistible power. By time, by your form, and by your compassion, our pride is shattered and we remember your feet. “Therefore, we no longer desire a kingdom, which is but a mirage, nor a body ever subject to decay and pain. O Lord, we long only to worship you, for the fruit of such acts, both now and hereafter, is pleasing to the ear. “Please instruct us in the means by which, even as we journey through this world, remembrance of your lotus feet may never cease. “Obeisance again and again to Kṛṣṇa, son of Vasudeva, to Hari, the Supreme Self, to Govinda, destroyer of the distress of those who take refuge in him.” Thus the kings, freed from bondage, praised the compassionate Lord, the shelter of all. Kṛṣṇa, moved by their devotion, addressed them with gentle words: “From this day forth, O kings, firm devotion to me, the Self, the Lord of all, will arise in you, as you have earnestly desired. By good fortune, you have resolved rightly and spoken truthfully. See how pride in wealth and power drives men mad. “Haihaya, Nahuṣa, Vena, Rāvaṇa, Naraka, and others—lords among gods, demons, and men—were all brought low by pride in prosperity. “Knowing this truth, that all arising from the body and so forth is perishable, worship me through sacrifices and protect your subjects with righteousness. “Sustain your people, experiencing happiness and sorrow, birth and death as they come. Accept what comes your way and move about with your minds fixed on me. “Detached from body and so on, delighting in the Self, firm in your vows, fixing your minds wholly on me, you shall attain Brahman at the end.” Having thus instructed the kings, Kṛṣṇa, Lord of the world, assigned attendants to care for their wives, arranging for their bathing and purification. He had Sahadeva perform the ceremonial worship, clothing the kings in fresh garments, adorning them with ornaments, garlands, and fragrant ointments befitting their royal station. After bathing and adorning them, Kṛṣṇa fed them with the finest foods and provided them with every enjoyment, including betel and other delights suitable for kings. Honored by Mukunda, the kings, now radiant and free from distress, shone like planets emerging from behind the clouds after the rainy season. Finally, Kṛṣṇa had their jeweled and golden chariots yoked with fine horses, and, blessing them with kind words, sent them back to their own kingdoms—restored, honored, and forever grateful.