As Bhīṣma lay fallen upon the earth, his mighty form stretched out like a celestial being cast down from heaven, the Pāṇḍavas approached him, accompanied by their followers and the illustrious Krishna, the wielder of the discus. With reverence, they bowed before Bhīṣma, honoring the great patriarch who lay upon his bed of arrows. Word of Bhīṣma’s condition spread, and soon all the eminent sages among the Brahmanas, the foremost divine sages, and royal sages gathered to witness the chief of the Bharatas in his final moments. Among them were Parvata, Nārada, Dhaumya, the venerable Badarayana, Brihadasva, Bharadvaja with his disciples, and the son of Renuka. Vasishtha, Indrapramada, Trita, Gritsamada, Asita, Kakshivan, Gautama, Atri, Kaushika, and Sudarshana joined the assembly. Other pure-hearted sages such as Brahmarata, Kashyapa, Angiras, and many more arrived, bringing their disciples. Bhīṣma, the most fortunate and wise among the Vasus, perceived the gathering of these noble souls. Understanding the propriety of place and time, he honored each sage, offering them his respect. He then worshipped Krishna, who sat among them as the Lord of the universe, the heart’s indweller, having assumed a form by His own divine power. Turning to the sons of Pandu, who sat before him with humility and affection—eyes blinded by tears of deep attachment—Bhīṣma spoke. “Alas,” he said, “how grievous and unjust it is that you, O sons of Dharma, who are afflicted yet devoted to the Brahmanas, to righteousness, and to Acyuta, should suffer or live in distress. After the great warrior Pandu departed, your mother Kunti, left a widow with young children, endured many hardships for your sake, again and again, like a mother caring for her child.” Bhīṣma continued, “All that is unpleasant for you is, I believe, caused by the power of time. The world and its rulers are subject to its sway, just as clouds are driven by the wind. Where the son of Dharma rules as king, Bhima wields the mace, Arjuna holds the Gandiva bow, and Krishna is your friend—how can adversity prevail? O King, no one knows Krishna’s intention; even those who inquire deeply are bewildered, as are the wise. Therefore, understand this as the arrangement of destiny. Being thus ordained, O protectorless one, you must protect the people as their lord.” He then declared, “This is Bhagavan Himself, the original Narayana, who, concealing Himself among the Vrishnis, moves about, bewildering the world by His maya. His most secret power is known only to Bhagavan Shiva, the divine sage Narada, and Bhagavan Kapila. The one whom you consider your maternal cousin, dear friend, best well-wisher, whom you made your minister, messenger, and charioteer out of affection—He is the soul of all, sees all equally, is nondual and free from ego; there is never any fault in the differences He causes in people’s minds.” Bhīṣma pointed out Krishna’s compassion, saying, “See, O King, His mercy for those with exclusive devotion: as I am giving up my life, Krishna Himself has come before me. The yogi who, with devotion, fixes his mind upon Him and utters His name is freed from desires and actions when he leaves his body. May that Lord of gods, Bhagavan, wait until I relinquish this body; He, with a smiling face, reddish eyes, radiant lotus-like countenance, and four arms, stands before me as the path of my meditation.” Sūta then narrated that Yudhiṣṭhira, hearing Bhīṣma’s words, questioned him about various duties, as the assembled sages listened intently. Yudhiṣṭhira asked about duties prescribed for people according to their nature, class, and stage of life, and about the characteristics of detachment and attachment as taught in the scriptures. He inquired, both in summary and detail, about the duties of charity, kingship, liberation, women, and devotion to God, as well as their divisions and yogic aspects. The sage Bhīṣma, knowing the truth, described to him the goals of dharma, wealth, desire, and liberation, along with their means, as found in various stories and histories. As he expounded upon dharma, the auspicious time arrived—the time sought by yogis who wish to depart at will, the northern course. Bhīṣma then withdrew his speech, which had flowed like a thousand streams, and fixed his mind, free from all attachments, upon the Primeval Person—upon Krishna, shining in yellow garments, four-armed, standing before him, with unblinking eyes. With pure concentration, all inauspiciousness destroyed, and the fatigue of battle gone simply by beholding Krishna, with all the activities of his senses ceased, Bhīṣma praised Janārdana, the creator, as he prepared to depart. He spoke: “Thus, my mind, freed from thirst, is established in the Lord, the foremost of the Sātvatas, the all-pervading one who, having attained His own bliss, sometimes enters into the world of nature, from which the flow of birth arises. May my pure love be fixed upon Him, the delight of the three worlds, dark as a tamāla tree, adorned with garments shining like the rays of the sun, whose form is encircled by curling locks, and whose lotus face is the friend of Arjuna. In battle, with His face adorned by sweat from exertion, His hair dusted by the smoke of horses, His armor gleaming as His skin was pierced by my sharp arrows—may Krishna, my true self, be present for me. Hearing the words of His friend in the midst of battle, He placed the chariot between the two armies; as He stood protecting the lives of the enemy soldiers, may my love be fixed on Partha’s friend, who took away their strength. Seeing the opposing army, and out of a sense of fault, Arjuna turned away from killing his own kin; Krishna dispelled Arjuna’s confusion with knowledge of the Self—may I have supreme devotion to His lotus feet. Abandoning His own vow to fulfill mine, He leapt from the chariot, His upper garment falling, and rushed forward, whip in hand, like Hari advancing to slay an elephant. Pierced by sharp arrows, my bow shattered, my body drenched in blood, the aggressor rushed upon me to kill me—may that Lord Mukunda be my refuge. May my devotion, at the time of death, be fixed upon that Lord, the beauty of whom is seen as He stands on Arjuna’s chariot, holding the reins and whip, whom those slain here, upon seeing, attained their true form. The cowherd women, their movements graceful, their laughter charming, their sidelong glances full of love and feigned anger, imitated His playful acts in madness and blindness, for they were absorbed in His very nature. In the royal assembly at Yudhiṣṭhira’s Rājasūya sacrifice, surrounded by sages and kings, he alone was worthy of worship and became visible to my eyes—he who reveals his true self to me. I have now realized that unborn One, present in the hearts of all embodied beings, who is conceived differently by each according to their mind, just as the one sun appears manifold in many reflections; my delusion of difference has been dispelled.” Sūta concluded: Thus, fixing his mind, speech, and sight on Lord Krishna, and absorbing his self in the Supreme Self, Bhīṣma drew in his breath and became still.