The virtuous Gandhari, daughter of Subala, devoted to her husband Dhritarashtra, chose to follow him as he departed for the forest. In doing so, she set aside her staff of authority, relinquishing her worldly attachments just as noble souls do at the end of their journey. Meanwhile, King Yudhishthira, known as Ajatashatru, having made peace with all, performed sacred fire sacrifices and honored the brahmins with gifts of sesame, cows, land, and gold. Afterwards, he returned home to offer respects to his elders, but was troubled to find that neither his parents nor Gandhari were present. There, finding Sanjaya seated, Yudhishthira anxiously inquired, “O Gavalgana, where is our aged father, now bereft of sight? And where is my mother, who grieves for her slain sons? Where has my uncle, our friend, gone? Perhaps, thinking me lacking in wisdom and now alone, he has, with his wife, sought the Ganga, hoping for relief from sorrow.” These thoughts plunged Yudhishthira into distress. He lamented further, “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?” Suta explained that, overwhelmed by compassion and the pain of separation, Sanjaya was unable to reply, his heart heavy and his vision clouded. After wiping his tears and steadying himself by remembering the Lord’s feet, Sanjaya finally answered Yudhishthira. Sanjaya said, “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. Rising to greet and honor him, Yudhishthira and his brothers worshipped the sage. Yudhishthira addressed Narada, “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.” Then, like a helmsman guiding a ship across the sea, the illustrious Narada, best among sages, spoke: “Just as cows are bound to a stake by their own ropes, so too are beings bound by names and words, each carrying out their offerings for the Lord. The coming together and separation of people are like the playthings of a child, occurring by the will of the Lord. What you consider as permanent or impermanent in this world is not truly so; such things are not to be grieved for, except due to attachment born of delusion.” Narada continued, “Therefore, dear one, give up this weakness of heart born of ignorance. How could those helpless and pitiable ones survive without me? This body, made of the five elements, is subject to time, action, and the modes of nature. How can one protect others, just as someone seized by a serpent cannot save another? The handless are food for the handed, the footless for the four-footed; among all, the weak are the sustenance of the strong—life lives upon life.” “O King, that Supreme Lord, who is the one Self of all selves and perceives Himself by Himself, dwells both within and without; see Him, who appears through His own illusion. This very Lord, O great King, the creator and sustainer of beings, has now descended as Time to bring about the destruction of the enemies of the gods. The divine work has been accomplished; now He awaits what remains to be done. Until then, you 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 flows the celestial Ganga, who divided herself into seven streams for the seven sages; hence she is called the river of seven streams. There, after bathing at the proper times and offering oblations into the fire as prescribed, he lives on water alone, with a tranquil mind, free from all desires.” “Having mastered posture and breath, withdrawn his six senses, and destroyed the impurity of passion and ignorance through meditation on Hari, he has become pure in the mode of goodness. Merging the 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 senses and mind restrained and 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, from today, on the fifth day hence, he will abandon his body, and it will be reduced to ashes. As the body of her husband 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, Vidura, filled with both joy and sorrow, will depart from there to visit holy places.” Having spoken thus, Narada, together with Tumburu, ascended to heaven. Yudhishthira, holding the sage’s words in his heart, gave up his grief. Yudhishthira then reflected in wonder, “What is this, that seems so wonderful? In Vasudeva, the Soul of all, unprecedented love is increasing among the people of Vraja and their children.” In that sacred land, even natural enemies such as men and beasts lived together like friends, for the unconquered Lord resided there, along with swift deer and other creatures. There, the Supreme, non-dual, infinite Lord, whose knowledge is unfathomable, enacted the childhood pastimes of a cowherd boy, searching for calves and friends as before, holding a morsel of food in His hand, and was beheld by Brahma, the creator. Seeing Him, Brahma quickly descended from his vehicle, bowed down as if casting a golden staff, and touched the Lord’s two feet with the crowns of his four heads, performing an abhisheka with tears of joy. Rising again and again, he fell at Krishna’s feet, recalling repeatedly the greatness he had previously witnessed. Then, rising slowly and wiping his eyes, with his neck bowed, Brahma gazed upon Mukunda. With joined palms, full of humility and composure, trembling, he spoke in a choked, tearful voice. Meanwhile, Sūta continued: When Arjuna had departed for Dvārakā, longing to see his relatives and to learn of the deeds of the illustrious Krishna, several months passed without his return. Then, O best of the Kurus, ominous signs of dreadful appearance were seen. Yudhishthira observed the fierce course of Time, the reversal of natural order, and the worsening conduct of people—driven by anger, greed, and falsehood. Dealings became mostly crooked, friendship was tainted with deceit, and quarrels arose among fathers, mothers, friends, brothers, and married couples.