O brāhmaṇas, I have thus recounted to you the wondrous deeds of the Lord, He whose mighty acts dispel all misfortune. Whoever, with steady mind and faith, recites or listens to this narration daily, even for a short while, becomes purified. If one hears these sacred stories on the twelfth or eleventh day of the lunar fortnight, long life is attained; and for those who recite them with self-control and fasting, freedom from sin is assured. Especially potent is the recitation of these tales at holy places like Puṣkara, Mathurā, or Dvārakā—there, with self-restraint and fasting, one is freed from all fear. By praising and hearing the glories of the Lord, even the gods, sages, perfected beings, ancestors, Manus, and kings are pleased, and they grant the desires of those who sing or hear these stories. A twice-born who studies the Ṛg, Yajur, and Sāma Vedas receives the fruits of honey, clarified butter, and flowing milk. Yet, a devoted twice-born who studies this Purāṇa attains the supreme abode spoken of by the Lord Himself. By such study, a brāhmaṇa attains wisdom, a kṣatriya gains sovereignty, a vaiśya becomes lord of wealth, and a śūdra is purified from sin. Elsewhere, the Lord Hari—He who burns away the impurities of the age of Kali—is not always sung. But here, in these stories, the all-encompassing Lord is recited thoroughly, verse by verse. To Him, the unborn, infinite, true Self—whose power creates, maintains, and dissolves the universe, and whose praise is beyond even Brahmā, Indra, and Śiva—I bow. Homage to the eternal Supreme among the gods, whose own power forms the stable and moving worlds and whose abode is realized only by the blessed. I bow to Vyāsa’s son, the sage Śuka, who, absorbed in his own bliss and drawn by the Lord’s unconquerable play, revealed this Purāṇa out of compassion, a lamp of truth that destroys all sin. Now, 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 Vidura had questioned the sage Kauṣārava, his devotion to Govinda grew, and, satisfied, he ceased from further inquiries. When Vidura returned, his kinsmen—Yudhiṣṭhira, his brothers, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Yuyutsu, Sūta, Kṛpa, and Pṛthā—saw him and rejoiced. Gāndhārī, Draupadī, Subhadrā, Uttara, Kṛpī, and the other wives of the Pāṇḍavas, with their sons and female relatives, all rose up with delight, as if life itself had returned to their bodies. They approached Vidura with proper gestures, greeting him with embraces and reverent salutations. Overcome by the longing of separation, they shed tears of love, and the king honored Vidura, offering him a seat and welcoming him warmly. When Vidura had eaten, rested, and was comfortably seated, Yudhiṣṭhira, bowing humbly, spoke as all listened. He asked, “Do you remember us, who thrived under your shelter and were saved, along with our mother, from so many dangers—poison, fire, and more? How have you lived while wandering the earth? Have you visited the chief holy places and sacred fields? O Lord, devotees like you are themselves holy places, for you carry within your hearts the bearer of the mace, sanctifying even the sacred sites you visit. Have you seen or heard news of our friends and relatives, the worshippers of Krishna? Are the Yadavas well, living happily in their city?” Thus addressed by Yudhiṣṭhira, Vidura described all he had experienced, step by step, except for the destruction of the Yadu dynasty. Though he knew of this unbearable calamity, out of compassion and unwillingness to bring sorrow, he did not speak of it. For some time, Vidura remained there, honored and happy like a god, bringing well-being to his elder brother and happiness to all. Aryama, in the place of Yama, carried out justice, for Yama, due to a curse, had to remain as a Shudra for one hundred years. Yudhiṣṭhira, having regained his kingdom and seeing his grandson as heir, rejoiced with his brothers, who were like guardians of the world, in great prosperity. Yet, for those attached to their homes and absorbed in worldly pursuits, time—so difficult to overcome—passed unnoticed. Vidura, perceiving this, spoke to Dhritarashtra: “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 us all. By Him, even those most dear are overtaken, and people are suddenly separated—even from their very lives. What to say of others, like wealth and possessions? Fathers, brothers, friends, sons—all have been slain. Youth has departed, and old age consumes you; you reside in another’s house. Ah, how strong is the hope for life! By this, you, like a caretaker, accept food left aside by Bhima. Fire has been set, gifts given, poison administered, wives dishonored, land and wealth stolen—how much remains for those who gave their lives for such things? Even your body, O pitiable one, though it desires to live, will depart when worn out by old age, just as threadbare clothes are cast aside. One who, having lost all purpose for the body, becomes detached and freed from bonds, leaves it without concern for its destination—such a person is wise. He who, whether by his own cause or another’s, has become disillusioned and self-possessed, and places Hari in his heart, leaves home—such a man is supreme. Therefore, let your journey be toward the north, with your path unknown to others; for from here onward, time generally draws men away through the influence of the qualities.” Thus, King Dhritarashtra, awakened by the words of his wise younger brother Vidura, cut the strong bonds of affection for his own people and departed along the path shown by his brother.