All undertakings for fame and prosperity—whether by fulfilling the duties of one’s caste and stage of life, by performing austerities, or by the study of sacred texts—reach their highest purpose only when they lead to unfailing remembrance of Śrīdhara’s lotus feet. This remembrance is kindled through reverent hearing and praise of the virtues of Hari. When one remembers Krishna’s lotus feet, all inauspiciousness is destroyed and well-being flourishes; the mind is purified, supreme devotion to the indwelling Lord arises, and knowledge dawns, accompanied by realization and detachment. Those among you who are foremost twice-born are truly blessed, for you constantly worship Nārāyaṇa, the Lord of lords, the ruler of all, the very soul within every being, steadfastly fixing Him in your hearts. I too have been reminded of the truth of the Self, a truth I once heard long ago from the lips of the supreme sage, when King Parīkṣit observed his fast, surrounded by the assembly of great sages and seers. O brāhmaṇas, thus have I recounted to you the glorious deeds of the Lord, whose mighty acts dispel all misfortune. Whoever, with unwavering mind and faith, recites or listens to these accounts daily, even for a moment, becomes purified. Hearing this narration on the twelfth or eleventh day of the lunar fortnight bestows long life; reciting it with self-control and fasting frees one from sin. One who is self-disciplined, observing a fast and reciting this collection at sacred places like Puṣkara, Mathurā, or Dvārakā, becomes freed from fear. By the praise and hearing of whose glories, the gods, sages, perfected beings, ancestors, Manus, and kings grant the desires of those who sing or listen, one is truly blessed. A twice-born who studies the Ṛg, Yajur, and Sāma Vedas attains the fruits of honey, clarified butter, and streams of milk. Yet, a devoted twice-born who studies this Purāṇa attains the supreme abode spoken of by the Lord Himself. Through this study, a brāhmaṇa attains wisdom, a kṣatriya gains sovereignty as vast as the ocean, a vaiśya acquires lordship over wealth, and a śūdra is purified from sin. Elsewhere, Hari—the Lord who burns away the mass of Kali’s impurity—is not constantly sung; but here, in these narratives, the all-encompassing Lord is thoroughly praised, verse by verse. To You, the unborn, infinite, true Self, whose power creates, sustains, and dissolves the universe, whose praise is difficult even for Brahmā, Indra, Śiva, and other lords of heaven to grasp—O infallible One, I bow down. Homage to You, the eternal Supreme among the gods, whose own power forms the stable and moving worlds within Yourself, whose abode is realized only by the blessed. I offer my respects to Vyāsa’s son, who, absorbed in his own bliss and free from all else, was drawn by the unconquered Lord’s enchanting play, and who, out of compassion, revealed this Purāṇa—the lamp of truth, destroyer of all sin. Sūta continued: Vidura, having learned the path of the self from the sage Maitreya during his pilgrimage, returned to Hastināpura, his thirst for knowledge now fully quenched. While he questioned the sage Kauṣārava, Vidura developed exclusive devotion to Govinda, and, having attained this devotion, he ceased his inquiries. When Vidura returned, Dharmaputra (Yudhiṣṭhira) and his brothers, along with Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Yuyutsu, Sūta, Kṛpa, and Pṛthā, as well as Gāndhārī, Draupadī, Subhadrā, Uttara, Kṛpī, and the other wives of the Pāṇḍavas, together with their sons and female relatives, all rose up in joy. It was as if life itself had returned to their bodies. They approached Vidura respectfully, greeting him with embraces and salutations. Overwhelmed by the longing born of separation, they shed tears of love. The king honored Vidura, offering him a seat and welcoming him warmly. After Vidura had eaten, rested, and was comfortably seated, King Yudhiṣṭhira, bowing with humility, spoke while all listened. He said, “Do you remember us, who thrived under your protection and were saved—along with our mother—from so many dangers, such as poison and fire? How have you managed to live while wandering the earth? Have you visited the chief holy places and sacred fields? O Lord, devotees like you are themselves holy places; they sanctify even sacred sites, for they carry within their hearts the bearer of the mace. O dear one, have you seen or heard of our friends and relatives, the worshippers of Krishna? Are the Yadavas living happily in their city?” Thus addressed by Dharmaraja, Vidura described everything he had experienced, step by step, except for the destruction of the Yadu dynasty. Although something so distressing and unbearable had occurred, he did not recount it, out of compassion, unwilling to cause sorrow to others. For some time, Vidura remained there, honored and happy like a god, bringing well-being to his elder brother and happiness to all around him. During this time, Aryama administered justice to wrongdoers, while Yama, due to a curse, lived as a Shudra for a hundred years. Yudhiṣṭhira, having regained his kingdom and seeing his grandson established as the heir of the dynasty, rejoiced with his brothers—guardians of the world—in supreme prosperity. Yet, for those absorbed in their homes and heedless, time—so difficult to overcome—passed by unnoticed. Perceiving this, Vidura spoke to Dhṛtarāṣṭra: “O King, depart quickly; see how danger has arrived. There is no remedy here, from anywhere or at any time. This is the Supreme Time, the Lord, who has come for all of us. Even those most dear, with their very lives, are overtaken by Him, and people are suddenly separated. What need to speak of others—of wealth and so forth? Fathers, brothers, friends, sons—all have been slain; youth has departed; your self is consumed by old age, and you reside in another’s house. “Ah, how great is the hope for life in a living being! By that hope, you, like a caretaker, accept food left aside by Bhima. Fire has been set, gifts given, poison administered, wives dishonored, land and wealth stolen—what remains now for those who gave their lives for such things? Even your body, O pitiable one, desiring to live but unwilling, will depart, worn out by old age, like clothes that are threadbare.