Then, like a skilled helmsman guiding travelers across the vast and uncertain sea, the illustrious sage Nārada, foremost among the sages, began to speak. He said, “Just as cows are bound to a stake by the ropes tied around their necks, so too are all beings in this world bound by names and words, performing their duties and offerings for the Lord, caught in the bonds of worldly designations. “In truth, the coming together and separation of people is not in their own hands. Just as toys are united or scattered at the will of the child who plays with them, so too do unions and partings among men occur solely by the will of the Lord. What you consider as permanent or impermanent in this world is, in reality, neither truly so; such distinctions are the products of attachment and delusion, and not to be grieved for. “Therefore, O dear one, abandon 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 anyone protect others when they themselves are helpless—just as a man seized by a serpent cannot save another? “In this world, the handless are food for those with hands, the footless are prey for the four-footed, and among all creatures, the weak become the sustenance of the strong—life lives upon life. O King, the Supreme Lord, the one Self within all selves, perceives Himself by Himself. He dwells both within and without; behold Him, appearing through the power of His own illusion. “This very Lord, O great King, the creator and sustainer of all beings, has now descended in the form of Time, bringing about the destruction of the enemies of the gods. The divine task is accomplished; now He remains, awaiting what is yet to be done. Until then, observe and remain attentive, as long as the Lord stays among you. “As for Dhritarashtra, together with his brother and Gandhari, his devoted wife, he has gone south of the Himalayas to the hermitage of the sages, accompanied by his wife. There, the celestial river Ganga, for the pleasure of the seven sages, divided herself into seven streams by seven channels; thus she is called the river of seven streams. “There, after bathing at the proper times and offering oblations into the sacred fire according to the prescribed rules, Dhritarashtra lives on water alone, with a tranquil mind, free from all desires. He has conquered posture and breath, withdrawn his six senses, and, through meditation on Hari, destroyed the impurity of passion and ignorance, becoming pure in the mode of goodness. “Merging his mind into knowledge, dissolving the knower of the field into the Self, and placing that Self in Brahman—just as space within a pot merges into the vast sky—he abides. With the last traces of illusion and its qualities destroyed, with senses and mind restrained, having given up all food, he remains unmoving like a pillar. May there be no obstacle for him, who has renounced all actions. “O King, know that from today, on the fifth day hence, he will abandon his body, which will be reduced to ashes. As her husband’s body burns in the fire, the faithful Gandhari, together with her brother-in-law, will stand outside, gazing upon him 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 spoken thus, Nārada, accompanied by Tumburu, ascended to the heavens. Yudhishthira, holding these words deep in his heart, relinquished his grief. Now, what is this wonder, that in Vasudeva, the Soul of all, unprecedented love is blossoming among the people of Vraja and their children? In that sacred land where the unconquered Lord resided, even natural enemies—men and beasts—lived together like friends, along with swift deer and other creatures. There, the Supreme Lord—non-dual, infinite, and of unfathomable knowledge—enacted the childhood pastimes of a cowherd boy, searching for calves and friends as before, holding a morsel of food in His hand. In that form, He was beheld by Brahmā, the creator. 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 two feet with the crowns of his four heads, tears of joy streaming down as he performed a ceremonial ablution. Again and again, Brahmā rose and fell at Krishna’s feet, recalling the greatness he had witnessed. Then, rising slowly and wiping his eyes, his neck bowed in awe, Brahmā gazed upon Mukunda. With palms joined in reverence, 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. Yet Arjuna did not return. Then, O best of the Kurus, ominous and dreadful signs began to appear. Yudhishthira observed the fierce march of Time, the reversal of natural order, and the worsening conduct of people, driven by anger, greed, and falsehood. Dealings became crooked, friendships tainted with deceit, and quarrels erupted among fathers, mothers, friends, brothers, and married couples. As these dire omens manifested and Time advanced among the people, the king, seeing the rise of greed and unrighteousness, spoke to his younger brother. Yudhishthira said, “Arjuna was sent to Dvārakā, longing to see his relatives and to learn of the illustrious Krishna’s deeds. Now seven months have passed, and your younger brother Bhīmasena has not returned; I do not know the reason 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. “See these portents, O tiger among men—celestial, terrestrial, and bodily—terrible and ominous, appearing nearby, filling us with fear and confusion. My thighs, eyes, and arms are trembling again and again, and my heart is unsteady; surely, something inauspicious is approaching. “The she-jackal, with fiery mouth, howls at the rising sun; and, O dear one, this dog is crying at me like one who is afraid. Animals circle me on the left and the right, and, O best of men, I see my horses weeping. This pigeon, a messenger of death, and the owl, unsettling my mind, and the screeching of the night-owl—these portend sleeplessness and emptiness.” Thus, the story unfolds, with the wise words of Nārada, the wonders of Krishna’s pastimes, and the ominous signs that herald a great change for the sons of Kuru.