Kuntī, weighed down by the sorrow and enmity that had arisen among the women whose loved ones had been slain in the recent conflict, spoke with a heavy heart. She confessed that the hostility born from the actions of householders—those who had brought about such loss—was beyond her power to dispel. She likened the situation to muddy water, which cannot be cleansed with more mud, or the stain of liquor, which cannot be removed by the same; in the same way, one act of killing cannot be purified by further sacrifices. The burden of violence cannot be lifted by more ritual acts. Turning to the prince, she offered a path of hope. “Listen,” she said, “to the supreme and secret mantra. If recited for seven nights, this mantra grants one the vision to see the celestial beings who move through the sky.” She then revealed the sacred invocation: “Om, obeisance to the Blessed Lord Vāsudeva.” With this mantra, she instructed, the wise should worship the Lord, making offerings with various substances, at the proper place and time, using pure water, flowers, wild roots, fruits, tender sprouts, fresh garments, and especially the beloved leaves of tulasī. She explained that worship should be directed to a consecrated image—whether fashioned of earth, water, or other elements—by one who is self-controlled, peaceful, measured in speech, and moderate in food. The Lord, praised in sublime verses, would manifest by His own inconceivable power, and the devotee should meditate on Him as present in the heart. All previous acts of service should now be offered to the Lord’s form established through the mantra, with the heart absorbed in that sacred sound. When one serves the Lord with body, mind, and speech, and with devotion springing from the heart, true worship is achieved. To those who are free from deceit and worship Him properly, the Lord increases their devotion and grants the highest good they seek—something unattainable by ordinary duties. One who is detached from sense pleasures should worship Him with constant and sincere devotion, through the yoga of devotion, to attain complete liberation. Having received these instructions, the prince circumambulated her and bowed in reverence. He then journeyed to the sacred Madhuvana, sanctified by the footprints of the Lord. There, in the forest dedicated to penance, the sage Nārada entered the inner chambers, was duly honored by the king, and, seated comfortably, spoke to him. Nārada asked, “O King, why do you sit lost in thought, your face withered with sorrow? Is it because some desire or duty, tied to wealth, remains unfulfilled?” The king replied, “O brāhmaṇa, my young son—just five years old—has been exiled with his mother by a cruel-hearted woman. He is a great sage, yet helpless in the forest. May the wolves not harm that child, who lies tired, hungry, and with his lotus-like face withered. Alas, see my wretchedness! Conquered by a woman’s will, I failed to welcome that innocent boy when he sought my lap out of love—how base I am!” Nārada reassured him, saying, “O protector of the people, do not grieve for your son, who is guarded by the gods. You lament because you do not know his greatness, but his fame will spread throughout the world. Having performed a deed difficult even for the guardians of the worlds, your son will soon bring you immense renown.” Maitreya, the sage, remarked that after hearing Nārada’s words, the king—though lord of the earth—set aside royal pleasures and thought only of his son. In Madhuvana, having been consecrated and purified, he spent the night in observance, with a focused mind, serving the Supreme Person as he had been instructed. At the end of every three nights, subsisting on wood-apple and jujube fruits, the prince spent a month worshipping Hari as best he could. In the second month, on every sixth day, he prepared food from fallen leaves and grass and continued his worship. In the third month, on every ninth day, he lived on water alone, absorbed in meditation on the Glorious Lord. In the fourth month, on every twelfth day, he survived on air, having conquered his breath, and maintained his meditation on the Lord. When the fifth month arrived, the prince, having mastered his breath, stood on one leg, meditating on the Absolute, unmoving as a pillar. Withdrawing his mind from all else and fixing it in his heart—the seat of the elements and senses—he meditated solely on the form of the Lord. As he sustained the Supreme, the Lord of primordial matter and the great elements, the support of all, the three worlds began to tremble. When that royal boy stood on one foot, the earth, pressed by his big toe, bent wherever he stood, as the platform of an elephant tilts under its weight. Absorbed in meditation on the Self of the universe, closing the doors of his senses with unwavering concentration, the worlds and their guardians, oppressed and breathless, sought refuge in Hari. The gods prayed: “O Lord, we have never witnessed such restraint of life-breath in any being, moving or unmoving, whose abode is You. Please release us from this distress; we have come to You, our ultimate refuge.” The Blessed Lord replied, “Do not fear. I will cause the boy to desist from this arduous austerity. Return to your realms. It was because of his union with Me that your breath was restrained, O sons of Uttānapāda.” Meanwhile, Sūta continued the tale. Out of concern for his subjects and wishing to know all righteousness, the king went to where Devavrata (Bhīṣma) lay. At that time, all his brothers, with horses adorned in gold, followed in chariots, as did the sages Vyāsa, Dhaumya, and others. The Blessed Lord Himself, together with Dhanañjaya (Arjuna), rode in a chariot; among them, the king shone like Kubera among the Yakṣas. Upon seeing Bhīṣma fallen on the ground, like a god fallen from heaven, the Pāṇḍavas, their followers, and the wielder of the discus (Krishna), bowed to him. There, all the great sages among the Brahmanas, the foremost among the divine sages, and the royal sages assembled to see the chief of the Bharatas. Among those present were Parvata, Nārada, Dhaumya, the venerable Badarayana, Brihadasva, Bharadvaja with his disciples, and the son of Renuka. Also present were Vasishtha, Indrapramada, Trita, Gritsamada, Asita, Kakshivan, Gautama, Atri, Kaushika, and Sudarshana. Many other sages, pure-hearted and wise—such as Brahmarata and others—arrived with their disciples, including Kashyapa, Angiras, and the rest, all gathered to witness and honor the great Bhīṣma at his final moment.