Sūta spoke to the sages, recounting the events that followed the great war. When Vidura returned to Hastināpura, he found Dhṛtarāṣṭra preparing to renounce the world. Out of deep compassion and the pain of impending separation, Sūta himself was overwhelmed and unable to perceive the Lord within his heart. Tears streaming down his face, he could not answer the questions put to him, so afflicted was he by sorrow. Steadying himself and wiping away his tears, Sanjaya, remembering the feet of the Lord, at last found his composure. He addressed King Yudhiṣṭhira, Ajātaśatru, the delight of the Kuru lineage, and humbly admitted, “O mighty-armed one, I do not know the decision made by your parents or by Gandhārī. These great souls have eluded my understanding and I have been deceived by them.” Just then, the venerable sage Nārada arrived, accompanied by the celestial musician Tumburu. Yudhiṣṭhira and his brothers immediately rose to greet and honor the sage, worshipping him with great reverence. Yudhiṣṭhira, troubled at heart, spoke: “O revered one, I do not know where my father and mother have gone. My mother, grieving for her slain sons and devoted to austerity, has departed, but I do not know where.” Like a skilled helmsman guiding a boat across the sea, the illustrious Nārada, foremost among sages, began to speak words of wisdom. “O King,” he said, “all living beings are bound by their own names and identities, just as cows are tied to a stake by their ropes. They act, offering all to the Supreme Lord. “As the coming together and separation of playthings depend upon the will of the player, so too do the unions and separations of people occur by the will of the Lord. What you see as permanent or impermanent in this world is neither truly so; grief arises only from attachment born of delusion. “Therefore, dear Yudhiṣṭhira, give up this weakness of heart, born of ignorance. Do not think, ‘How will the helpless and pitiable survive without me?’ This body, made of the five elements, is subject to time, actions, and the modes of nature. One seized by a serpent cannot save another; how then can one protect others? “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, the one Self of all selves, perceives Himself by Himself and dwells both within and without. See Him, who appears by His own divine power. “This very Lord, O great King, the creator and sustainer of all 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, observe the world as long as the Lord remains here. “As for Dhṛtarāṣṭra, he has gone south of the Himalayas to the hermitage of sages, accompanied by his wife Gandhārī and his brother. There flows the celestial Gaṅgā, who divided herself into seven streams for the pleasure of the seven sages, and thus is called the river of seven streams. “There, 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 is now pure in the mode of goodness. “Merging his mind into knowledge, dissolving the knower of the field into the Self, and placing the Self in Brahman—just 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, 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 Gandhārī, 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, Nārada, accompanied by Tumburu, ascended to the heavens. Yudhiṣṭhira, holding the sage’s words in his heart, relinquished his grief. Meanwhile, in the land of Vraja, something wonderful was unfolding. In Vasudeva, the Soul of all, unprecedented love was blossoming among the people of Vraja and their children. There, even natural enemies—men and beasts—lived together as friends, for the unconquered Lord resided among them, along with swift deer and other creatures. There, the Supreme, non-dual, infinite Lord—whose knowledge is unfathomable—enacted His childhood pastimes as a cowherd boy, searching for calves and friends as before, holding a morsel of food in His hand. In this form, He was beheld by Brahmā, the creator. Upon seeing Him, Brahmā quickly descended from his own vehicle, bowed down to the earth as if casting down a golden staff, and touched the Lord’s feet with the crowns of his four heads, tears of joy streaming down as he performed an abhiṣeka of love and reverence. Rising again and again, he fell at Kṛṣṇa’s feet, and then sat, remembering the greatness he had previously witnessed. Slowly rising and wiping his eyes, Brahmā bowed his neck and gazed upon Mukunda. With palms joined in reverence, full of humility, his voice choked with emotion and tears, he spoke. Back in Hastināpura, Sūta continued: When Arjuna departed for Dvārakā, longing to see his relatives and to learn of the deeds of the illustrious Kṛṣṇa, several months passed without his return. Then, O best of the Kurus, ominous signs of dreadful appearance began to manifest. Yudhiṣṭhira observed the fierce march of Time, the reversal of the natural order, and the deterioration of people’s conduct—driven by anger, greed, and falsehood. Dealings became mostly crooked, friendship tainted with deceit, and quarrels arose among fathers, mothers, friends, brothers, and married couples. Seeing the rise of greed and unrighteousness as such dire omens appeared among the people, the king addressed his younger brother. He said, “Arjuna was sent to Dvārakā, longing to see our relatives and to learn of the deeds of the illustrious Kṛṣṇa. Now seven months have passed, and your younger brother Bhīmasena has not returned; for what reason, I do not know at all. Has the time foretold by the divine sage now arrived, when the Lord intends to relinquish His earthly play? For by His grace we obtained wealth, kingdom, wives, life, family, subjects, victory over enemies, and even the worlds.” Thus, the hearts of the Pāṇḍavas were filled with concern and longing, as the age turned and the Lord’s earthly pastimes approached their close.