As King Yudhiṣṭhira stood before Bhīṣma, the great elder lay upon his bed of arrows, preparing to depart from this world. Bhīṣma addressed the king with deep wisdom, saying, “O King, no one can ever truly know the intentions of the Supreme; even those who are learned and inquisitive are bewildered by His ways, as are the wise themselves. Therefore, O best of the Bharatas, understand that all this is the arrangement of destiny. Since it is ordained thus, O protectorless one, you must fulfill your role as lord and protector of the people.” Bhīṣma continued, revealing the divine presence before them: “This is Bhagavan Himself, the original Narayana, who, concealing Himself among the Vrishnis, moves throughout the world, bewildering all with His maya. His most secret power is known only to Bhagavan Shiva, the divine sage Narada, and Bhagavan Kapila, O King. He whom you regard as 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, seeing all equally, nondual and free from ego. There is never any fault in the differences He causes in people’s minds.” Bhīṣma’s gaze was fixed upon Krishna, and he said, “Yet, O King, see His compassion 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 at the time of leaving the body. May that Lord of gods, Bhagavan, wait until I relinquish this body; He stands before me, smiling, with reddish eyes, radiant lotus-like countenance, and four arms—the very path of my meditation.” Sūta, the storyteller, then explained that Yudhiṣṭhira, hearing these words, questioned Bhīṣma about various duties, while the sages listened attentively. Yudhiṣṭhira asked about the 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, referencing various stories and histories. As Bhīṣma expounded on dharma, the auspicious time arrived—the time sought by yogis who wish to depart at will, the northern course. Then, Bhīṣma 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 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. Bhīṣma 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, 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 continued: 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 him, 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; yet 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 Gandhārī. With his father’s approval and Krishna’s consent, the mighty king ruled the kingdom righteously, as inherited from his father and grandfather. His mother, the mother of heroes, repeatedly anointed her son; 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. 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.” Thus, as the people cherished him and his brothers, the joyful king mounted the elephant and, praised by all, entered the city. At every entrance were splendid makara-archways, clusters of banana trunks, and heaps of betel nuts, all beautifully arranged. Each gateway was adorned with pitchers of water with lamps, garlands of young mango leaves, and strings of pearls hanging down, welcoming the king home.