After the mighty warrior Pandu departed from this world, his wife Kunti was left behind, a widow with young children. For their sake, she endured countless hardships, persevering again and again, much like a mother caring for her vulnerable child. Reflecting on all the difficulties that befell them, Bhīṣma spoke with wisdom, saying he considered every unpleasant event as the work of time. Just as clouds are driven by the wind, so too are the rulers and people of the world subject to time’s unfathomable power. How could adversity arise, he wondered, when the son of Dharma, Yudhiṣṭhira, was king, Bhīma wielded his fearsome mace, Arjuna held the Gandiva bow, and Krishna himself was their friend? Yet, Bhīṣma admitted, no one truly knows Krishna’s intention. Even those who inquire deeply, even the wise, are bewildered by his ways. Therefore, he advised Yudhiṣṭhira, the best of the Bharatas, to accept these events as the arrangement of destiny. Since this was ordained, and since Yudhiṣṭhira was now protectorless, he should fulfill his duty as lord and safeguard the people. Bhīṣma then revealed a profound truth: Krishna, who moves among the Vrishnis, is none other than Bhagavan Narayana himself, the original Lord, who conceals his divinity and bewilders the world through his maya. His most secret power is known only to Bhagavan Shiva, the divine sage Narada, and Bhagavan Kapila. Bhīṣma reminded Yudhiṣṭhira that Krishna, whom he regarded as his maternal cousin, his dear friend, his best well-wisher, and whom he had made his minister, messenger, and charioteer out of affection, was truly the soul of all. Krishna sees all equally, is nondual and free from ego, and never incurs fault for the differences he causes in people’s minds. Yet, Bhīṣma pointed out the Lord’s special compassion for those with exclusive devotion. As Bhīṣma was preparing to leave his body, Krishna himself had come before him. The yogi who, with devotion, fixes his mind on Krishna and utters his name is freed from desires and actions at the time of death. Bhīṣma prayed: “May that Lord of gods, Bhagavan, remain before me until I relinquish this body. With his smiling face, reddish eyes, radiant lotus-like countenance, and four arms, he stands as the path of my meditation.” Sūta narrated that, hearing Bhīṣma’s words, Yudhiṣṭhira questioned him, who lay upon his bed of arrows, about various duties, while the sages listened attentively. Yudhiṣṭhira 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. 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. Bhīṣma, the sage who knew 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 expounded on dharma, the auspicious time arrived—the time yogis desire for death 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—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, Bhīṣma ceased all activity of his senses and praised Janārdana, the creator, as he was about to depart. He declared: “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 amidst the 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, turning 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, Krishna 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, Krishna 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 continued: 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. 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 Bhīṣma, and showers of flowers fell from the sky upon the king. After Bhīṣma’s passing, Yudhiṣṭhira, son of Bhārgava, performed the proper rites for the departed, but for a while, he remained deeply sorrowful. The delighted sages praised Krishna with secret names, and then, their hearts devoted to Krishna, they returned to their own hermitages. Yudhiṣṭhira, accompanied by Krishna, went to Gajāhvaya and comforted his father and the ascetic Gāndhārī. With his father’s approval and Krishna’s consent, the mighty king ruled the kingdom righteously, as inherited from his father and grandfather. Kunti, the mother of heroes, repeatedly anointed her son, and from her breasts flowed milk and from her eyes, auspicious tears. The people said to the queen, “By good fortune, your son, the remover of distress, has been restored after long absence, and will protect the circle of the earth.” They praised her, saying, “Surely, O queen, you have worshipped the Lord, the remover of the distressed, for those who meditate on him with steady mind conquer even death, which is so hard to overcome.