As the age of Kali advanced, after two hundred years had passed since Parīkṣit’s momentous hearing, on a pure and auspicious ninth day, Gokarṇa, born of a cow, recited the sacred Bhāgavata story. Thirty years later, as Kali’s grip tightened, on the ninth day of the bright half of Kārtika, the sons of Brahmā themselves recited it. Thus, O sinless one, the tale you inquired about—the Bhāgavata story in Kali, which destroys the disease of worldly existence—has been described. This narration, so dear to Kṛṣṇa, destroys all sins, is the sole cause of liberation, and brings forth the divine play of devotion. Let the virtuous drink this tale with reverence—what need is there for pilgrimage or ritual service in this world when such nectar is available? Even Yama, the lord of death, is said to whisper to his own servant holding the noose: “Avoid those intoxicated by the stories of the Lord; I am the master of others’ anger, but not of the Vaiṣṇavas.” In this insubstantial world, where minds are troubled by the poison of sense-objects, drink, even for half a moment, the nectar-like verses of Śuka for your welfare. Why wander uselessly on the wrong path, listening to base stories, when Parīkṣit himself witnessed the narration that grants liberation upon hearing? The story spoken by Śuka, flowing with the stream of rasa, binds to the throat the one who recites it—and he becomes the Lord of Vaikuṇṭha. Thus, the most confidential truth, established by all doctrines, has been spoken to you at once; having surveyed the multitude of scriptures, nothing in this world is as pure as the tale of Śuka—drink, for the sake of supreme joy, the essence of the twelve books. Whoever listens to this regularly with devotion, and whoever narrates it before pure Vaiṣṇavas—both, by properly performing this act, obtain its fruit; for them, nothing in this world is unattainable in reality. Śaunaka then asked Sūta, “O Sūta, when Nārada had departed, what did the venerable Bādarāyaṇa, having understood his intent, do next?” Sūta replied: On the western bank of the divine Sarasvatī river, there is an āśrama called Śamyāprāsa, renowned for fostering the gatherings of sages. In that āśrama, adorned with clusters of badarī trees, Vyāsa sat down, purified himself with water, and concentrated his mind by his own will. With his mind made pure and steady through devotion, Vyāsa beheld the complete Person and Māyā, who stands dependent upon Him. By her, the living being, though transcendental, becomes deluded and considers himself to be made of the three guṇas, imagines misfortune, and accepts what is caused by her. For the cessation of these miseries, the wise Vyāsa composed the Sātvata Saṃhitā, teaching direct devotion to the Transcendent, for the benefit of people who do not know. In this scripture, when it is heard, devotion to Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Person, arises in a person, removing sorrow, delusion, and fear. Having composed this Bhāgavata Saṃhitā in proper order, the sage taught it to his son Śuka, who was devoted to renunciation. Śaunaka wondered, “That sage, devoted to renunciation and indifferent to all, being self-satisfied—why did he, the self-delighted one, study this great work?” Sūta explained: Even sages who are self-satisfied and free from all bonds perform causeless devotion to Hari, for His qualities are such. The venerable son of Badarāyaṇa, whose mind was captivated by Hari’s qualities, constantly studied the great narrative, ever dear to the devotees of Viṣṇu. Sūta then promised, “Now I will describe the birth, deeds, and departure of King Parīkṣit, and the passing of the sons of Pāṇḍu, as well as the rise of Kṛṣṇa’s story.” When, in the battle between the Kauravas and the Sṛñjayas, the heroes had fallen to the fate of warriors, and the son of Dhṛtarāṣṭra lay with his thighs broken by the blow of Bhīma’s mace, Aśvatthāmā, desiring to please his master, committed a heinous act: he severed the heads of the sleeping sons of Kṛṣṇā, bringing only harm, an act condemned by all. Hearing of the dreadful slaughter of her sons, the mother, overwhelmed with grief, wept, her eyes brimming with tears. To console her, the one crowned with a diadem, Arjuna, spoke gently: “O gentle lady, I will wipe away your sorrow—by arrows released from Gāṇḍīva, I will bring you the head of that brahma-bandhu, the aggressor, so that you may bathe after cremating your sons.” Thus, having comforted his beloved with sweet and varied words, Arjuna, the son of Acyuta’s friend, with anger pursued the mighty-armed son of his teacher, his chariot bearing the banner of Hanumān. Perceiving him approaching from afar, the prince, his mind agitated, fled with his chariot across the earth, seeking to preserve his life, just as one flees from the sun out of fear of Rudra. When the twice-born son saw himself without refuge, his horses exhausted, he considered the Brahmāstra weapon as his only means of self-protection. Then, having purified himself with water, he concentrated and invoked that weapon, though he did not know how to withdraw it, as death drew near. Thereupon, a fierce and blazing energy manifested in all directions; seeing the threat to life, Arjuna spoke to Viṣṇu: “O Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, mighty-armed one, you alone are the remover of fear for your devotees; you are the deliverance from burning suffering in this cycle of birth and death. You are the original person, the direct Lord, transcendent over nature; casting aside illusion by your power of consciousness, you remain established in the Self, in oneness. You alone, by your own strength, bestow the highest good, marked by dharma and other virtues, upon the living beings whose minds are deluded by your māyā. Thus, this incarnation of yours has appeared on earth to relieve its burden, and repeatedly for the constant meditation of your own devoted ones. What is this, and from where does it come, O God of gods? I do not know. From all sides, a most terrible and blazing energy approaches.” The Blessed Lord replied, “Know this to be the Brahmāstra weapon unleashed by the son of Droṇa; he does not know how to withdraw it, as death approaches. There is no other weapon that can counteract this; only another weapon of the same kind can neutralize its force, for only one skilled in weapons can subdue the energy of a weapon with another.” Hearing the words of the Blessed Lord, Arjuna, destroyer of enemy heroes, circumambulated, touched water, and invoked the Brahmāstra to counter the Brahmāstra. The energies of both weapons, meeting and enveloped by arrows, covered the earth and sky, growing like the fire of the sun. Seeing the blazing energy of those weapons burning the three worlds, all beings, being scorched, thought it was the fire of destruction. Observing the turmoil among the people and the disturbance in the worlds, and recalling Vāsudeva’s instruction, Arjuna withdrew both weapons, restoring peace to the world.