As Bhīṣma lay upon his bed of arrows, his words—once flowing like a thousand streams—gradually ceased. Withdrawing his speech, he gathered his mind, now free from all worldly attachments, and fixed it wholly upon the Primeval Person, Lord Kṛṣṇa, who stood before him. Kṛṣṇa shone resplendent in yellow garments, four-armed, with unblinking eyes, illuminating the space with his divine presence. In that sacred moment, Bhīṣma, his mind purified and all inauspiciousness destroyed, felt the exhaustion of battle lift from him simply by beholding the Lord. All the activities of his senses stilled, he began to praise Janārdana, the creator of all, as he prepared to depart from this world. Bhīṣma spoke: “My mind, now freed from all thirst and longing, is established in that Supreme Lord, the foremost among the Sātvatas, the all-pervading one. Though He delights in His own bliss, He sometimes enters this world of nature, from which the endless flow of birth arises. May my pure love forever rest upon Him, the delight of the three worlds, dark as a tamāla tree, adorned in radiant garments like sunlight, his form encircled by curling locks, his lotus face the dear friend of Arjuna. “In the heat of battle, I saw Him—His face shining with sweat from exertion, His hair dusted by the smoke of horses, His armor gleaming, and His skin pierced by my sharp arrows. May that Kṛṣṇa, my true self, be ever present for me. I remember Him as He listened to His friend’s words in the midst of the armies, placing the chariot between the two hosts, protecting even the lives of the enemy soldiers. May my love be fixed on Pārtha’s friend, who took away the strength of those opposed. “When Arjuna, seeing his kin before him, faltered and turned away from the prospect of battle, Kṛṣṇa dispelled his confusion with knowledge of the Self. May I have supreme devotion to His lotus feet. To fulfill my vow, He cast aside His own, leaping from the chariot with His upper garment falling, whip in hand, rushing toward me like Hari advancing to slay an elephant. “Pierced by sharp arrows, my bow shattered, my body drenched in blood, I saw Him, the aggressor, rush upon me. May that Lord Mukunda be my refuge. At the time of my death, may my devotion be fixed upon that Lord—so beautiful as He stood on Arjuna’s chariot, holding the reins and whip. Even those slain on the battlefield, upon seeing Him, attained their true form. “I recall the cowherd women, their movements graceful, laughter charming, sidelong glances filled with love and feigned anger, who, in their madness and absorption, imitated His playful acts. 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 revealed His true self to me. “Now I realize that unborn One, present in the hearts of all beings, who is conceived differently by each according to their own mind, just as the one sun appears manifold in many reflections. My delusion of difference has been dispelled.” Thus, with his mind, speech, and sight fixed on Lord Kṛṣṇa, and his very self absorbed in the Supreme Self, Bhīṣma drew in a deep breath and became utterly still. All present recognized that Bhīṣma was merging into the indivisible Brahman. Silence fell, as if the birds had quieted at the end of the day. At that very moment, celestial drums resounded, played by gods and humans alike. The virtuous praised Bhīṣma, and showers of flowers rained from the sky upon the king. After Bhīṣma’s passing, Yudhiṣṭhira, son of Bhārgava, performed the proper rites for the departed, yet for a time, he remained deeply sorrowful. The delighted sages praised Kṛṣṇa with secret names, and then, their hearts devoted to Him, they returned to their hermitages. Yudhiṣṭhira, accompanied by Kṛṣṇa, went to Gajāhvaya to comfort his father and the ascetic Gāndhārī. With his father’s approval and Kṛṣṇa’s consent, the mighty king ruled the kingdom righteously, as inherited from his father and grandfather. His mother, the mother of heroes, anointed her son again and again, tears of joy and milk of affection flowing together. The people spoke to the queen: “By great fortune, your son, the remover of distress, has returned 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.” Cherished by the people and his brothers, the joyful king mounted his elephant. Praised by all, he 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 topped with lamps, garlands of young mango leaves, and strings of pearls hanging down. The city sparkled on all sides with ramparts, gateways, and houses adorned with golden ornaments, and the shining spires of mansions. Courtyards, streets, and crossroads were swept 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 offerings—rice, unbroken grains, curd, water, sacred grass, flowers, and fruits. Out of affection, these virtuous women offered their blessings as he entered his father’s palace, their sweet, childish songs filling the air. Within 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, with golden ornaments; the seats were most precious, and all furnishings were made of gold. Crystal walls and great emeralds gleamed with jeweled lamps, adorned with gems from women’s ornaments. Delightful gardens, filled with wondrous celestial trees, cooing pairs of birds, and intoxicated bees singing, surrounded the palace. There were ponds with steps of lapis lazuli, filled 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. Seeing him grown and beloved by the people, and approved by the ministers, the king made Dhruva the lord of the earth. Realizing his own old age, the lord of men, detached, set out for the forest, contemplating the path of his soul. At this point, Śaunaka inquired, “O best of the righteous, after Yudhiṣṭhira had vanquished his enemies, regained his kingdom and wealth, and secured the well-being of his brothers, what did he do next? How did he proceed?” Sūta replied: “Hari, the creator of the world, restored the Kuru dynasty, which had been destroyed by the fire of its own descendants. Having established Yudhiṣṭhira firmly in his kingdom, Lord Kṛṣṇa was pleased at heart.