The Blessed Lord spoke, revealing to Arjuna the grave truth: “Know this weapon unleashed by the son of Droṇa is the terrible Brahmāstra. He, in his confusion and impending doom, does not know how to withdraw it.” The Lord continued, “There is no weapon that can counteract this, except another Brahmāstra. Only one skilled in the science of weapons can neutralize such power, for only the energy of a weapon can subdue another of its kind.” Sūta narrated what followed: Upon hearing the Lord’s words, Arjuna, the vanquisher of enemy armies, circumambulated his Lord, touched water in ritual purification, and invoked his own Brahmāstra to counter the one already released. The energies of both weapons, meeting in the sky and surrounded by a storm of arrows, grew and spread, covering earth and sky alike, blazing with the intensity of the sun’s fire. The radiance of these weapons seemed to burn the three worlds, and all beings, scorched by their heat, believed the fire of universal destruction had come. Witnessing the chaos among the people and the disturbance in the worlds, Arjuna remembered the instruction of Vāsudeva. Acting with resolve, he withdrew both Brahmāstras, restoring peace. Then, Arjuna moved swiftly toward the fierce son of Gautamī, his eyes red with anger. He bound him with ropes, as one would bind a wild beast. Dragging this enemy, tied and subdued, Arjuna made for the camp, but the lotus-eyed Lord, His anger aroused, spoke to Arjuna: “O Pārtha, do not spare this one! Slay this so-called brāhmaṇa, who, though a brāhmaṇa in name, has slain innocent, sleeping children in the darkness of night.” He continued, “One who knows dharma does not kill an enemy who is intoxicated, distracted, insane, asleep, a child, a woman, helpless, surrendered, unarmed, or afraid. Yet this cruel man, devoid of compassion, has sustained his own life by destroying the lives of others. His death is preferable, for by such sin a man falls from virtue.” The Lord reminded Arjuna, “You promised Draupadī, in my presence, ‘I will bring the head of that arrogant slayer of your sons.’ Therefore, let this sinful one be slain—he is an aggressor, a murderer of kin, whose vile act has brought disgrace to his lineage and displeased his own master.” Sūta continued: While Arjuna pondered the path of dharma, and though urged by Kṛṣṇa, he hesitated to kill the son of his teacher, despite his grievous offense. Returning to their camp, the charioteer dear to Govinda reported to his grieving wife, who mourned her slain sons. When Kṛpī, the gentle-natured wife of Droṇa, saw her son bound like an animal, face downcast in shame and his glory stripped away by Kṛṣṇa, she, overwhelmed by compassion, bowed low. Unable to bear the sight of her son in bondage, she pleaded: “Release him, release him! He is a brāhmaṇa, truly a guru.” She reminded Arjuna, “The secret science of archery, its use and withdrawal, and the array of weapons—all this you learned from his father by his grace. That same revered Droṇa now lives on in his son; half of himself remains in me, the mother who bore this heroic child. Therefore, O knower of dharma, O great one, let your noble and honored family not incur infamy through this act. Let his mother Gautamī, devoted to her husband, not weep as I have, my face wet with tears for my lost sons.” She warned, “If the brāhmaṇa lineage is angered by unruly kṣatriyas, it quickly destroys them and their kin, even if they are without fault.” Sūta said: The son of Dharma, the king, accepted the queen’s words, recognizing their righteousness, justice, compassion, honesty, and impartiality. Nakula, Sahadeva, Yuyudhāna, Dhanañjaya, the divine son of Devakī, and others—both men and women—were present. Then Bhīma, filled with rage, declared that death was the only proper fate for one who, without cause, slays sleeping children—not for his master nor for himself. Hearing Bhīma’s words and those of Draupadī, the four-armed Lord, glancing at His friend’s face, spoke gently with a smile: “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, which you gave to comfort your beloved, and what is dear to Bhīmasena, to Draupadī, and to me as well.” Sūta continued: Suddenly understanding Hari’s intention, Arjuna drew his sword and cut off the jewel, along with the hair, from the head of the twice-born one. He released him, still bound with a girdle, his brilliance dimmed by the sin of killing a child, and led him out from the camp, now deprived of the jewel’s radiance. To shave the head, take away wealth, and expel from one’s place—this is the bodily punishment for those who are brāhmaṇa in name only; there is no other. All the Pāṇḍavas, stricken with grief for their son, together with Kṛṣṇā, performed the necessary rites for their dead, such as carrying out the bodies. At this point, the seventh chapter begins. The Lord 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.” Meanwhile, the people flourished in happiness, as the loving couple cared for their children, delighting in their cooing and babbling speech. By the gentle touch of their wings, their cooing, and their charming gestures, the little ones brought joy to their parents, who, free from sorrow, rejoiced in their presence. Yet, bound by affection and deluded by Viṣṇu’s māyā, the two parents, their minds troubled, nurtured their children and the people. Once, these two householders ventured out for the sake of their young ones; in the forest, seeking food, they wandered for a long time. By chance, a hunter roaming the forest saw them. He spread his net and captured the young ones as they drew near their nest. The male and female pigeons, always eager to nourish their offspring, having obtained food, returned to their home. But when the mother saw her children trapped in the net, she rushed toward them, crying out in distress as her little ones cried for help.