Śuka continued: In this way, the Sarasvata brāhmaṇas, by devotedly serving the lotus feet of the Supreme Person, attained the highest destination, dispelling the doubts of the people. Sūta then spoke: Whoever listens again and again with attentive ears to this nectar-like story—fragrant with the presence of the sage’s son and concerning the Supreme Person—finds relief from the fears of worldly existence. Such a listener, journeying through life, abandons all exhaustion and sorrow. Śuka resumed: Once, in the city of Dvārakā, a brāhmaṇa’s wife gave birth to a son. But as soon as the child touched the earth, he died. The heartbroken brāhmaṇa carried his lifeless child to the gates of the king and, overwhelmed with grief, lamented aloud before the assembly. In his anguish, the brāhmaṇa cried, “Because of the king’s misdeeds—his hatred for brāhmaṇas, his deceit, greed, and attachment to sense pleasures—my child has died. When a king delights in violence, acts wickedly, and cannot control his senses, the people suffer. They become poor and are constantly afflicted.” This tragedy was not an isolated event. When a second and then a third child died in the same way, the brāhmaṇa left each at the king’s gate, repeating his sorrowful lament. At some point, Arjuna, in the presence of Keshava (Krishna), heard the brāhmaṇa’s cries when the ninth child had died. Moved, Arjuna approached the grieving father and said, “O brāhmaṇa, what is lacking in your household? Here, brāhmaṇas perform sacrifices with kṣatriya friends in support. Yet, if brāhmaṇas, surrounded by wealth, wives, and sons, are forced to lament, then those who call themselves kṣatriyas are impostors, living in disgrace.” He vowed, “O brāhmaṇa, I will protect your afflicted, helpless children. If I fail to keep my word, I shall enter fire and be purified of my sins.” But the brāhmaṇa replied, “Even Sankarshana, Vasudeva, Pradyumna—best among archers—and Aniruddha, whose chariot none can conquer, were unable to protect my children. How, then, do you, wishing to perform a deed difficult even for the Lords of the world, intend to succeed? This seems childish; I cannot believe it.” Arjuna responded, “O brāhmaṇa, I am not Sankarshana, nor Krishna, nor Krishna’s son. I am Arjuna, known for the bow Gandiva. Do not underestimate my power, which has pleased Tryambaka (Shiva). I have conquered death in battle; I will bring back your children, O master.” Thus reassured by Arjuna, the brāhmaṇa, pleased after witnessing Arjuna’s valor, returned to his home. When the time of birth approached for the brāhmaṇa’s wife, the anxious brāhmaṇa called out to Arjuna, “Protect my child from death!” Arjuna purified himself with clean water, bowed to Maheshvara, recalled his divine weapons, and readied his Gandiva bow. He surrounded the birthing chamber with arrows, employing various celestial weapons, creating a cage of arrows on all sides—across, above, and below. But as soon as the child was born, crying, he vanished—body and all—into the sky before their eyes. In Krishna’s presence, the brāhmaṇa reproached Arjuna, saying, “See my foolishness, believing in his boastful words. Neither Pradyumna, nor Aniruddha, nor Rama, nor Kesava could protect my children. Who else could succeed, O Lord of the universe? Shame on Arjuna for his false promises and self-praise; deluded, he seeks to do what fate has decreed.” Thus cursed by the brāhmaṇa, Arjuna, relying on his knowledge and weapons, quickly set out for Samyamanī, the abode of Yama, Lord of death. Not finding the brāhmaṇa’s son there, he journeyed to the cities of Indra, Agni, Nirriti, Soma, Vayu, and Varuna. He searched Rasatala, the heavens, and the abodes of other deities, bearing his weapons. But nowhere could he find the brāhmaṇa’s son, nor could he fulfill his vow. In despair, he resolved to enter fire, but Krishna stopped him. Krishna said, “I will show you the brāhmaṇa’s sons. Do not belittle yourself. Those who establish our pure fame will be blessed.” Thus, Krishna spoke to Arjuna, and together they mounted Krishna’s divine chariot and journeyed westward. The Supreme Lord crossed the seven continents, seven oceans, and seven mountains, passing even beyond Lokāloka, entering the inner realms of creation. There, the chariot’s horses—Śaibya, Sugrīva, Meghapuṣpa, and Balāhaka—lost their way, swallowed by darkness. Seeing this, Krishna, Lord of yoga, sent forth his own discus, Sudarśana, shining like a thousand suns. The discus, swift as thought, entered the vast, dense, and terrible darkness, splitting it with its radiance, just as Rama’s arrow would pierce an army. Through the path opened by the discus, Arjuna beheld a supreme, boundless light beyond the darkness. Its brilliance was so intense that he closed his eyes, unable to bear it. Then, carried by the wind, he entered waters adorned with great waves and saw a wondrous, radiant palace, shining with thousands of jeweled columns. Within, he beheld a great, infinite serpent with a thousand heads, each hood adorned with brilliant gems, its eyes fierce, body white as a mountain, tongue blue-black. Upon that serpent’s comfortable seat sat the all-pervading Lord—of supreme majesty, highest among persons—dark as a raincloud, clad in yellow garments, with a serene face and beautiful, wide eyes. He was adorned with a radiant crown and jewel earrings, his hair surrounded by a glowing aura, eight long, graceful arms, bearing the Kaustubha gem, marked with Śrīvatsa, and garlanded with a forest wreath. Krishna bowed to the infinite Self, and Arjuna, overwhelmed with awe, did likewise. The Lord of lords, with joined palms and a powerful, smiling voice, addressed them: “Desiring to see you both, I brought the brāhmaṇa’s sons here to preserve righteousness on earth. You, who are incarnations of My portion, should quickly return after destroying the burden of evil on earth.