As Bhīṣma lay upon his bed of arrows, a gathering of illustrious sages arrived to witness his final moments. Among them were Parvata, Nārada, Dhaumya, the venerable Bādarāyana, Brihadasva, Bharadvāja with his disciples, and the son of Renuka. Vasishtha, Indrapramada, Trita, Gritsamada, Asita, Kakshivan, Gautama, Atri, Kaushika, and Sudarshana also came. Alongside these, other pure-hearted sages—Brahmarata and many more—appeared, bringing their disciples, such as Kashyapa and Angiras. Seeing this assembly of the most fortunate and revered sages, Bhīṣma, the best of the Vasus, deeply knowledgeable in righteousness and the proper distinctions of place and time, honored them all with due respect. He then worshipped Kṛṣṇa, who sat amongst them as the Lord of the universe, present within all hearts, manifesting in a form through His own divine power. Turning to the sons of Pāndu, who sat before him with humility and affection, their eyes blinded by tears of deep attachment, Bhīṣma spoke with compassion: “Alas, how grievous and unjust it is that you, O sons of Dharma, who are afflicted, devoted to the Brahmanas, to righteousness, and to Acyuta, should suffer or live in distress. With the great warrior Pandu gone, Kunti, left as a widow with young children, has endured many hardships for your sake, time and again, like a mother protecting her child. I see all your misfortunes as the workings of time; the world and its rulers are all subject to its sway, just as clouds are driven by the wind. When the son of Dharma is king, Bhima wields the mace, Arjuna holds the Gandiva bow, and Kṛṣṇa is your friend—how can there be adversity? O King, no one truly knows His intention; even those endowed with inquiry are bewildered by it, as are the wise. Therefore, O best of the Bharatas, understand this to be the arrangement of destiny. Being thus ordained, O protectorless one, you, as the lord, must protect your people. This indeed is Bhagavan Himself, the original Nārāyaṇa, who, concealing Himself among the Vrishnis, wanders about, bewildering the world by His divine power. His most secret power is known only to Bhagavan Śiva, the divine sage Nārada, and Bhagavan Kapila. He 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. Yet, O King, see His compassion for those with exclusive devotion: as I am giving up my life, Kṛṣṇa Himself has come before me. The yogi who, with devotion, fixes his mind upon Him and utters His name with his voice, 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 relates that Yudhiṣṭhira, hearing these words, questioned Bhīṣma, who lay upon the bed of arrows, about various duties, as the sages listened attentively. He asked about duties prescribed for people according to their nature, class, and stage of life, and about the characteristics of both detachment and attachment as taught in the scriptures. Yudhiṣṭhira 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, knowing the truth, described to him the aims of dharma, wealth, desire, and liberation, along with their means, as found in various stories and histories. As he was expounding on dharma, the auspicious time arrived—the time desired by yogis who wish for death at will, the northern course. At that moment, Bhīṣma withdrew his speech, which had flowed like a thousand streams, and fixed his mind, free from all attachments, upon the Primeval Person—upon Kṛṣṇa, shining in yellow garments, four-armed, standing before him, with eyes unblinking. With pure concentration, all inauspiciousness destroyed, and the fatigue of battle gone just by beholding Him, with all the activities of his senses ceased, Bhīṣma praised Janārdana, the creator, as he was about to depart. He proclaimed: “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 Kṛṣṇa, 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 Pārtha's friend, who took away their strength. Seeing the opposing army and, out of a sense of fault, turning away from killing his own kin, He 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 to be 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 continues: Bhīṣma, fixing his mind, speech, and sight on Lord Kṛṣṇa, and absorbing his self in the Supreme Self, drew in his breath and became still. Recognizing that Bhīṣma was merging into the indivisible Brahman, all present became silent, like birds at the end of the day. At that moment, drums resounded, played by gods and humans; the virtuous praised him, and showers of flowers fell from the sky upon the king.