Vidura, addressing his elder brother Dhritarashtra with compassion and gravity, spoke of the inescapable force of Supreme Time—the Lord Himself—who now approached them all. “O King,” he said, “there is no means, place, or time that can offer us a remedy against this power. It is by His will that even those most dear to us, our very life’s companions, are overtaken and separated from us in an instant. If this is so for those bound to us by love, what can be said of lesser things, like wealth and possessions?” He continued, “Fathers, brothers, friends, sons—all have been slain; the days of youth are gone. Your own body is now withered by age, and you dwell in the house of another. How powerful is the hope for life in living beings! Even now you accept food left aside by Bhima, as a caretaker might, clinging to life despite all that has passed.” Vidura reminded his brother of the many indignities they had suffered: “Fire was set to your home, gifts were deceitfully given, poison was administered, wives were dishonored, land and wealth were stolen. What remains now for those who once risked their very lives for such things?” He gently warned, “Even your body, O pitiable one, though it longs to live, will soon depart—worn out by old age, like clothes that are threadbare and cast off. The wise one, having lost all purpose for the body, becomes detached and freed from all bonds, leaving it behind without concern for its fate. Such a person is truly wise. He who, through his own realization or through another’s guidance, becomes disillusioned and self-controlled, placing Hari in his heart, and leaves home—such a man is supreme.” Vidura then urged, “Therefore, let your journey begin toward the northern direction, unseen by others. For from this point, time, through the influence of the qualities, draws all men away.” Awakened by Vidura’s wisdom, King Dhritarashtra cut the powerful bonds of affection for his family and departed along the path shown by his brother. Gandhari, the virtuous daughter of Subala, devoted to her husband, followed him. She set aside her staff of authority, just as noble souls relinquish their attachments at the end. Meanwhile, Yudhishthira, having made peace with all and performed fire sacrifices, honored the brahmins with gifts of sesame, cows, land, and gold. When he entered his house to pay respects to his elders, he did not find his parents or Gandhari. There he found Sanjaya seated, and, filled with anxiety, he asked, “O Gavalgana, where is our aged father, now deprived of sight? And where is our mother, who grieves for her slain sons? Where has my uncle, our friend, gone? Perhaps, thinking me lacking in wisdom and now bereft of kin, he has, with his wife, sought the Ganga, hoping for relief from sorrow.” Yudhishthira’s heart was heavy with distress. He lamented, “After our father Pandu passed away, our uncles protected all our friends and children from calamity. Where have those protectors gone now, leaving us behind?” Sanjaya, deeply afflicted by compassion and the pain of separation, could not answer, overwhelmed by his sorrow and unable to perceive the Lord within himself. Wiping his tears and steadying his heart, Sanjaya remembered the Lord’s feet and replied, “O delight of your lineage, I do not know the decision of your parents or of Gandhari, O mighty-armed one; I have been deceived by these great souls.” At that moment, the venerable sage Narada arrived with Tumburu. Yudhishthira and his brothers rose to greet and honor the sage, worshipping him with reverence. Yudhishthira said, “O revered one, I do not know where my parents have gone, nor where my mother, grieving for her slain sons and devoted to austerity, has departed.” Like a helmsman guiding a ship across the sea, the illustrious Narada, best among sages, spoke: “Just as cows are tied to a stake by their own ropes, so too are living beings bound by names and words, carrying out their offerings to the Lord. The coming together and separation of playthings depend on the will of the player; similarly, the unions and separations of people occur by the will of the Lord. What you consider permanent or impermanent in this world is not truly so; there is no cause for grief, except due to attachment born of delusion.” “O dear one,” Narada gently advised, “give up this weakness of heart, which arises from ignorance. How could those helpless and pitiable ones survive without me? This body, composed of the five elements, is subject to time, action, and the modes of nature. How can one protect another, just as a person seized by a serpent cannot save another? Among all creatures, the handless are food for the handed, the footless for the four-footed; the weak are the sustenance of the strong—life lives upon life.” He continued, “O King, the Supreme Lord, the one Self of all selves, perceives Himself by Himself and dwells both within and without; see Him, who appears through His own power of illusion. This very Lord, O great King, the creator and sustainer of beings, has now descended in the form of Time, to bring about the destruction of the enemies of the gods. The divine task has been accomplished; now He awaits what remains to be done. Until then, you all should observe, as long as the Lord remains here.” Narada then revealed, “Dhritarashtra, together with his brother and Gandhari his wife, has gone south of the Himalayas to the hermitage of the sages, accompanied by his own wife. There, the celestial Ganga divides herself into seven streams for the pleasure of the seven sages. There, after bathing at the proper times and offering oblations into the fire according to the prescribed rules, he lives on water alone, with a tranquil mind, free from all desires. He has mastered posture and breath, withdrawn his six senses, and destroyed the impurity of passion and ignorance through meditation on Hari, becoming pure in the mode of goodness. Merging his mind into knowledge, dissolving the knower into the Self, and placing the Self in Brahman, as space within a pot merges into the sky, he abides. With the residue of illusion and its qualities destroyed, with the senses and mind restrained, having given up all food, he remains unmoving like a pillar. Let there be no obstacle for him, who has renounced all actions.” “O King,” Narada concluded, “from today, on the fifth day hence, he will abandon his body, and it will be reduced to ashes. As her husband’s body burns in the fire, the faithful wife, together with her brother-in-law, will stand outside, gazing upon her husband as he enters the flames. Hearing this astonishing news, O descendant of the Kurus, Vidura, filled with both joy and sorrow, will depart from there to visit holy places.” Having thus spoken, Narada, together with Tumburu, ascended to the heavens. Yudhishthira, holding Narada’s words deep within his heart, relinquished his grief.