King Yudhiṣṭhira, standing before the venerable Bhīṣma as he lay on his bed of arrows, humbly inquired about the duties that are prescribed for people according to their nature, social class, and stage of life. He wished to understand, as taught in the scriptures, the true characteristics of both detachment and attachment. With both a broad and detailed mind, Yudhiṣṭhira asked about the duties related to charity, kingship, liberation, the responsibilities of women, and devotion to God, including their various divisions and yogic aspects. The wise sage Bhīṣma, who knew the truth of things, explained to Yudhiṣṭhira the four aims of life—dharma (righteousness), artha (wealth), kāma (desire), and mokṣa (liberation)—and the means to attain them, drawing upon stories and histories from the scriptures. As Bhīṣma was expounding on dharma, the auspicious time arrived—the time longed for by yogis who wish to depart from this world at will, during the northern course of the sun. Recognizing this moment, Bhīṣma gradually withdrew his speech, which had flowed like a thousand streams, and fixed his mind, now free from all attachments, upon the Primeval Person—upon Lord Kṛṣṇa Himself, who stood before him, radiant in yellow garments, four-armed, with unblinking eyes. With pure concentration, all inauspiciousness removed, and the fatigue of battle washed away simply by beholding the Lord, Bhīṣma’s senses ceased their outward activities. In that sacred moment, as he prepared to depart, he began to praise Janārdana, the creator. Bhīṣma spoke: “Now my mind, freed from all thirst, is firmly established in the Lord, the foremost of the Sātvatas, the all-pervading one, who, though ever-blissful in His own nature, sometimes enters the world of matter, from which the stream of birth flows. May my pure love be fixed upon Him, the delight of the three worlds, dark as a tamāla tree, adorned in garments shining like the rays of the sun, with curling locks surrounding His form, and whose lotus face is the dear friend of Arjuna. “In battle, I saw Him—His face adorned with 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. I remember how, hearing Arjuna’s words in the midst of battle, He placed the chariot between the two armies. As He stood there, protecting the lives of the enemy soldiers, He took away their strength. May my love be fixed on Pārtha’s friend. “When Arjuna, distressed at the prospect of fighting his own kin, turned away from battle, Kṛṣṇa dispelled his confusion with knowledge of the Self. May I have supreme devotion to His lotus feet. And when He abandoned His own vow to fulfill mine, He leapt from the chariot, His upper garment slipping to the ground, whip in hand, rushing forward like Hari attacking an elephant. “Pierced by sharp arrows, my bow shattered, my body drenched in blood, the Lord Mukunda rushed upon me as the aggressor. May He be my refuge. May my devotion at the time of death be fixed upon Him, 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. “I remember the cowherd women, their movements graceful, their laughter charming, their sidelong glances full of love and playful anger, who, absorbed in His very nature, imitated His delightful acts in joyful madness. In Yudhiṣṭhira’s royal assembly, surrounded by sages and kings at the Rājasūya sacrifice, it was He alone who was worthy of worship and became visible to me, revealing His true self. “Now I realize that unborn One, present in the hearts of all 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.” As Bhīṣma thus fixed his mind, speech, and sight on Lord Kṛṣṇa, absorbing his self in the Supreme Self, he drew in his breath and became perfectly still. All those present, recognizing that Bhīṣma was merging into the indivisible Brahman, fell silent, like birds at the end of the day. At that moment, drums resounded in the heavens and on earth, played by gods and humans. The virtuous praised Bhīṣma, and showers of flowers rained down from the sky upon the king. After Bhīṣma’s passing, Yudhiṣṭhira, son of Bhārgava, performed the proper rites for the departed, though for a time he remained deeply sorrowful. The delighted sages praised Kṛṣṇa with secret names, and then, their hearts devoted to Him, returned to their hermitages. Yudhiṣṭhira, accompanied by Kṛṣṇa, went to Gajāhvaya and comforted his father and the ascetic Gāndhārī. With his father’s approval and Kṛṣṇa’s blessing, the mighty king ruled the kingdom righteously, as inherited from his father and grandfather. The mother of heroes, overwhelmed with joy, anointed her son again and again; 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 returned after a 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, cherished by the people along with his brothers, the joyful king mounted the royal 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. The city was decorated on all sides with ramparts, gateways, and houses adorned with golden ornaments, and with the shining spires of mansions. The courtyards, streets, and crossroads were clean and sprinkled with sandal paste, and offerings of parched rice, unbroken grains, flowers, fruits, and rice were everywhere. As the steadfast king passed along the road, the city women at various places brought auspicious items—rice, unbroken grains, curd, water, sacred grass, flowers, and fruits. Out of affection, the virtuous women offered their blessings as he entered his father’s palace, their sweet, childish songs filling the air. In that splendid palace, adorned with clusters of great jewels, Yudhiṣṭhira was cherished exceedingly by his father and dwelled there like a god in heaven. The beds were white as milk foam, decorated with golden ornaments; the seats were most precious, and all furnishings were of gold. On crystal walls and great emeralds, jeweled lamps shone, adorned with gems from women’s ornaments. There were delightful gardens with wondrous celestial trees, filled with the cooing of birds and the singing of intoxicated bees. Ponds with steps of lapis lazuli brimmed with lotuses, water lilies, and kumuda flowers, frequented by swans, cranes, and chakravaka ducks. King Uttānapāda, the royal sage, upon seeing and hearing of his son’s extraordinary glory, was filled with the highest wonder.