May my pure and unwavering love be fixed upon that Supreme Lord, the joy of the three worlds, whose complexion is dark as the tamāla tree, radiant in garments that shine like sunlight, whose beautiful form is crowned with curling locks of hair, and whose lotus-like face is the beloved companion of Arjuna. I remember Him as He appeared in battle, His face glistening with sweat from exertion, His hair powdered with the dust kicked up by galloping horses, His armor shining as His skin was pierced by my sharp arrows. May Kṛṣṇa, my true self, be ever present before me. In the midst of the great war, as He listened to the words of His dear friend, He placed their chariot between the two armies, standing there to protect the very lives of those who stood against Him, yet in His presence, their strength was sapped. My heart longs to be ever fixed on this friend of Pārtha. When Arjuna, seeing his kinsmen on the opposing side, was overcome with sorrow and turned away from battle, Kṛṣṇa dispelled his confusion with the knowledge of the Self. May I have supreme devotion to His lotus feet. To fulfill my vow, He abandoned His own, leaping from the chariot with His upper garment slipping off, whip in hand, rushing toward me like Hari advancing to slay an elephant. Even as my sharp arrows pierced Him, as my bow broke and my body was drenched in blood, He, the aggressor, rushed upon me to kill me—may that Lord Mukunda be my refuge. May my love, especially at the time of death, be fixed upon that Lord, whose beauty shines as He stands upon Arjuna’s chariot, holding the reins and whip, the very sight of whom granted those slain on the battlefield their true, spiritual form. I recall the cowherd women of Vraja, their movements graceful, their laughter enchanting, their sidelong glances full of love and playful anger, who, in a blissful frenzy, imitated His pastimes, being so deeply absorbed in His nature. In the royal assembly at Yudhiṣṭhira’s Rājasūya sacrifice, surrounded by sages and kings, only He was worthy of worship and revealed Himself to my eyes—He who graciously shows His true form to me. Now I have realized that unborn One, present in the hearts of all beings, who is perceived differently by each according to their mind, just as the one sun appears in many reflections. My illusion of difference has been dispelled. Thus, with mind, speech, and vision fixed upon Lord Kṛṣṇa, and his very self absorbed in the Supreme Self, Bhīṣma drew in his breath and became utterly still. Recognizing that Bhīṣma was merging into the indivisible Brahman, all those present fell silent, like birds at sunset. At that sacred moment, drums resounded, played by gods and men; 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, yet for a time, he remained deeply sorrowful. The delighted sages praised Kṛṣṇa with secret, sacred names, and with hearts devoted to Him, they returned to their hermitages. Then Yudhiṣṭhira, accompanied by Kṛṣṇa, went to Gajāhvaya to console his father and the ascetic Gāndhārī. With his father’s approval and Kṛṣṇa’s consent, the mighty king ruled the kingdom justly, as inherited from his forebears. From her breasts flowed milk and from her eyes, auspicious tears, as the mother of heroes repeatedly anointed her son. The people said to the queen, “By great fortune, your son, the remover of distress, has returned after long absence and will now protect the earth.” They added, “Surely, O queen, you have worshipped the Lord, the remover of distress, for those who meditate on Him with steady mind conquer even death, which is so hard to overcome.” Thus, as the people cherished Yudhiṣṭhira and his brothers, the joyful king mounted his elephant. Praised by all, he entered the city. At every entrance, splendid makara-archways stood, with clusters of banana trunks and heaps of betel nuts beautifully arranged. Each gateway was adorned with water pitchers crowned with lamps, garlands of fresh 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 the shining spires of mansions gleamed in the sunlight. The courtyards, streets, and crossroads were immaculately clean and sprinkled with sandal paste, and offerings of parched rice, whole grains, flowers, fruits, and rice were placed everywhere. As the steadfast king passed along the road, the city’s women came forward at various places, bringing auspicious items—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, delighting in their sweet, childlike songs. In that splendid palace, adorned with clusters of great jewels, he 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 and all furnishings were made of gold. On walls of crystal 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 humming of intoxicated bees. Ponds with steps of lapis lazuli were filled with lotuses, water lilies, and kumuda flowers, frequented by swans, cranes, and chakravaka ducks. King Uttānapāda, the royal sage, witnessing his son’s extraordinary glory, was filled with the highest wonder. Seeing Dhruva grown, beloved by the people, and approved by the ministers, the king made him lord of the earth. Realizing his own old age, the king, now 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 and secured his kingdom, what did he do next? How did he proceed?” Sūta replied: Hari, the creator of the world, restored the Kuru dynasty, which had been devastated by the fire of its own descendants, and, having established Yudhiṣṭhira in his rightful kingdom, was pleased at heart. Having heard the words of Bhīṣma and Acyuta, his doubts dispelled by true knowledge, Yudhiṣṭhira ruled the earth, supported by the unconquered, like Indra with his brothers by his side. The clouds rained as desired, the earth yielded all that was wished for, and the cows joyfully drenched the villages with abundant milk. The rivers, oceans, mountains, forests, and all the herbs and plants produced their fruits as desired for him.