Bhīma, burning with anger at the sight of the slain children, declared that death was the only fitting punishment for one who, without reason, kills sleeping children—not for any master, nor for his own sake. As Bhīma spoke these harsh words, and Draupadī too expressed her views, the four-armed Lord Kṛṣṇa, glancing gently at his dear friend Arjuna, spoke with a soft smile. The Blessed Lord said, “A brāhmaṇa, even if he becomes an aggressor, should not be killed; yet, by the laws of righteousness, an aggressor deserves death. I have taught both sides—uphold my instruction.” He reminded Arjuna to fulfill the promise he made to the Kuru elders, the vow that had comforted his beloved Draupadī, and to do what was dear to Bhīma, to Draupadī, and to himself as well. Suddenly understanding Lord Hari’s intention, Arjuna drew his sword and, with a swift motion, cut the shining jewel along with the hair from the head of the twice-born Aśvatthāmā. Releasing him—his brilliance dimmed by the sin of killing a child, now deprived of the jewel’s radiance—Arjuna led him out from the camp, still bound by a girdle. This, it is said, is the bodily punishment for those who are brāhmaṇa in name only: to have their heads shaved, their wealth taken, and to be expelled from their place—no other punishment is prescribed. Overcome with grief for their lost son, all the Pāṇḍavas, together with Kṛṣṇā (Draupadī), performed the necessary rites for the dead, carrying out the bodies as tradition required. Thus, the seventh chapter begins. Śrī Bhagavān spoke, “O greatly fortunate one, what you have asked of me is exactly what I desire to do. Even Brahmā, Śiva, and the guardians of the worlds wish to dwell in my realm.” In the days that followed, the people flourished in happiness, as loving parents cared for their children, delighting in their cooing and babbling. The gentle touch of their children’s hands, their sweet sounds and charming gestures, filled the parents—now free from sorrow—with joy. Yet, bound by deep affection and deluded by Viṣṇu’s māyā, the two parents, with troubled minds, nurtured their children and tended to their people. One day, these two householders ventured out into the forest for the sake of their young ones, wandering a long time in search of food. As they were away, a hunter, roaming the forest by chance, spotted the young ones near their nest and, spreading his net, captured them. The male and female pigeons, always eager to nourish their offspring, returned home with food. But when the mother saw her children trapped in the net, she rushed toward them, crying out in distress as her little ones called back to her. Overwhelmed by love and grief, bewildered by illusion, she too became ensnared in the net, losing awareness as she saw her children bound. The father, seeing his beloved children—dearer to him than life itself—caught, and his wife, his equal and companion, also trapped, was plunged into deep sorrow. “Alas,” he lamented, “see my misery! Of little merit and foolish mind, I am unsatisfied and unfulfilled; my pursuit of the three aims of life as a householder is ruined. She who was my devoted and agreeable wife, my goddess, has left me in this empty house, going to heaven with our virtuous sons. Left behind, bereft of wife and children, miserable, why should I wish to live, afflicted by sorrow?” Surrounded thus by the loss of his family, seized by the grip of death and writhing helplessly, the pitiable bird, though seeing the hunter’s arrows, fell down in ignorance. The cruel hunter, satisfied with his catch, took the pigeon, his mate, and their young—householders all—back to his home. In this way, a householder whose mind is restless, who delights in the dualities of the world like a bird, and who clings to family out of attachment, sinks down, bound by his connections. He who, having attained the human world where the door to liberation stands open, remains attached to household life like a bird—they say he is one who, having climbed up, has fallen down. After these events, Sūta continued: Desiring to offer water for their departed relatives, the women, led by Kṛṣṇā, went to the sacred Gaṅgā. Having offered water and lamented intensely, they bathed in the river, sanctified by the lotus feet of Hari and by Brahmā, the unborn. There, Madhava (Kṛṣṇa) saw the king of the Kurus, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, seated with his younger brother, along with Gāndhārī, stricken with grief for her sons, Pṛthā (Kuntī), and Kṛṣṇā (Draupadī). With the sages, he consoled all those overwhelmed with sorrow, showing them that the course of time is inevitable among all beings and cannot be countered. Having restored Ajātaśatru (Yudhiṣṭhira) to his kingdom, which had been taken by gamblers, and having slain the unrighteous kings whose lives were stained by the touch of Kaca, Kṛṣṇa accomplished his purpose. He had Yudhiṣṭhira perform three horse sacrifices with excellent arrangements, spreading his pure fame in all directions, like Indra. Having taken leave of the sons of Pāṇḍu, and accompanied by Sātyaki and Uddhava, Kṛṣṇa was honored by Vyāsa and other sages, and he honored them in return. Having resolved to depart, he mounted his chariot to go to Dvārakā, but at that moment, Uttarā came running toward him, overwhelmed with fear. “Protect me, protect me, O great yogin, God of gods, Lord of the universe!” she cried. “I see no other refuge but you, as death threatens on all sides. O Lord, a blazing iron arrow is rushing toward me! Let it burn me if it must, but, O master, do not let my unborn child be destroyed.” Hearing her words, the Lord—ever affectionate to his devotees—understood that Droṇa’s son had released a weapon meant to destroy the Pāṇḍava line. The five Pāṇḍavas, seeing the blazing arrows approaching, took up their own weapons to defend themselves. But seeing the calamity that had befallen his devotees, the Lord protected his people with his Sudarśana discus. Hari, the master of yoga, who dwells within all beings as their very self, by his own power covered the embryo in Uttarā, the descendant of the Kurus, shielding it. Though the Brahmaśiras weapon is unfailing and cannot be counteracted, it was subdued upon encountering the Lord’s Vaiṣṇava power.