A fierce and blazing energy suddenly erupted in all directions, threatening every living being. Sensing the danger, Arjuna turned to Lord Viṣṇu—who was present before him as Kṛṣṇa—and spoke with urgency and devotion: “O Kṛṣṇa, mighty-armed one, you alone remove fear from your devotees. You are the deliverer from the burning suffering of this endless cycle of birth and death. You are the original person, the direct Lord, who stands above nature itself. By your own power, you cast aside illusion and remain ever established in the Self, in perfect oneness. “It is you alone, by your strength, who bestow the highest good—dharma and all virtues—upon living beings whose minds are deluded by your māyā. And now, you have appeared on earth in this incarnation to relieve her burden, and again and again, for the constant meditation of your devoted ones. But what is this phenomenon, O God of gods? I do not know its origin. 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 draws near. No other weapon can counteract this, except another Brahmāstra. Only one skilled in weapons can neutralize such energy by invoking a similar weapon.” Hearing these words, Arjuna, destroyer of enemy heroes, circumambulated the Lord, purified himself by touching water, and invoked his own Brahmāstra to counter the one unleashed by Aśvatthāmā. The energies of both weapons met, their arrows filling the earth and sky, blazing like the sun’s fire. The radiance of these weapons burned so fiercely that all beings, scorched and terrified, thought the fire of destruction itself had come. Seeing the turmoil among the people and the disturbance spreading through the worlds, Arjuna recalled Vāsudeva’s instruction and withdrew both weapons. Then, swiftly approaching the fierce son of Gautamī, Aśvatthāmā—his eyes red with anger—Arjuna bound him with ropes as one would bind a wild animal. As Arjuna dragged the bound enemy, intending to bring him to their camp, the lotus-eyed Lord Kṛṣṇa, his own anger aroused, addressed Arjuna: “O Pārtha, do not spare this one! Kill this so-called brāhmaṇa, who, though a brāhmaṇa in name, murdered innocent, sleeping children at night. One who knows dharma does not kill an enemy who is intoxicated, distracted, insane, asleep, a child, a woman, helpless, surrendered, unarmed, or afraid. But this wicked man, devoid of compassion, who sustains his life by destroying the lives of others—his death is truly better, for by such sin a man falls down. “And you promised Draupadī, in my presence, ‘I will bring you the head of the arrogant slayer of your sons.’ Therefore, let this sinful one be slain—he is an aggressor, a killer of kin, and has committed a vile act displeasing to his master, bringing disgrace to his lineage.” As Arjuna deliberated on dharma, urged by Kṛṣṇa, he found himself unable to kill the son of his teacher, even though Aśvatthāmā was a great offender. Returning to camp, Arjuna reported to his grieving wife Draupadī, who mourned her slain sons. When Kṛpī, the gentle-natured mother of Aśvatthāmā, saw her son brought like an animal, bound and shamed, his glory stripped by Kṛṣṇa, she was overcome with compassion. Unable to bear the sight of her son in such a state, the faithful wife pleaded, “Release him, release him! He is a brāhmaṇa, truly a guru. The secret science of archery, its use and withdrawal, and the array of weapons—all this you learned from his father by his favor. Droṇa now exists in the form of his son; half of himself remains in Kṛpī, the mother who bore this heroic child. Therefore, O knower of dharma, O great one, let not your noble family, so honored and revered, incur infamy through such an act. Let his mother Gautamī, devoted to her husband, not weep as I have wept for my dead sons. If the brāhmaṇa lineage is angered by unruly kṣatriyas, it can quickly destroy them and their kin, even if they are pure.” King Yudhiṣṭhira, the son of Dharma, accepted the queen’s words, which were righteous, just, compassionate, honest, and impartial. Nakula, Sahadeva, Yuyudhāna, Arjuna, the divine son of Devakī (Kṛṣṇa), and all the others, men and women, were present. Then Bhīma, enraged, declared that death was the proper fate for one who, without cause, kills sleeping children—not for his master or himself. Hearing the words of Bhīma and Draupadī, the four-armed Lord Kṛṣṇa, with a gentle smile, looked at his friend Arjuna and spoke: “A brāhmaṇa, even if an aggressor, should not be killed; yet an aggressor deserves death. I have taught both sides—uphold my instruction. Fulfill the promise you made to the Kuru queen, to comfort your beloved, and what is dear to Bhīmasena, to Draupadī, and to me as well.” Suddenly understanding the intention of Hari, Arjuna drew his sword and cut off the jewel and the hair from the head of the twice-born Aśvatthāmā. Releasing him—his brilliance dimmed by the sin of killing a child, deprived of the jewel’s radiance, and bound with a girdle—Arjuna led him out from the camp. Shaving the head, taking away wealth, and expelling from one’s place—this is the bodily punishment for those who are brāhmaṇa in name only; there is no other. Grieving for their lost sons, the Pāṇḍavas, together with Draupadī, performed the last rites and carried out the necessary ceremonies for the dead. Thus, as the seventh chapter begins, Śrī Bhagavān said, “What you have asked of me, O greatly fortunate one, is exactly what I wish to do. Brahmā, Śiva, the guardians of the worlds—all desire to dwell in my realm.” Thereafter, the people flourished in happiness, as the loving couple cared for their children, delighting in their innocent speech and playful babbling, and all hearts were soothed.