As time advanced, ominous signs began to appear among the people—portents so dire that King Yudhishthira grew deeply troubled. He observed the rise of greed and unrighteousness, and, perceiving these changes, he addressed his younger brother with concern. Yudhishthira spoke: “Arjuna was sent to Dvārakā, longing to see our relatives and to learn of the deeds of the illustrious Krishna. Yet now, seven months have passed, and our younger brother Bhīmasena has not returned; I do not know why. Has the time foretold by the divine sage now arrived, when the Lord intends to relinquish His earthly play? For by His grace, we gained wealth, kingdom, wives, life, family, subjects, victory over enemies, and even the worlds themselves.” He continued, his voice heavy with foreboding, “Look at these portents, O tiger among men—celestial, terrestrial, and bodily—terrible and ominous, appearing all around us, filling our hearts with fear and confusion. My thighs, eyes, and arms tremble again and again; my heart is unsteady. Surely, something inauspicious is approaching.” He described the strange occurrences: “A she-jackal with a fiery mouth howls at the rising sun, and, O dear one, this dog cries at me as if in fear. Animals circle me on both sides, and I see my horses weeping. A pigeon, messenger of death, and the owl unsettle my mind, while the screeching of the night-owl portends sleeplessness and emptiness.” “The quarters are filled with smoke; the horizons and mountains tremble. Great thunderclaps and lightning fill the sky. The wind blows harshly, scattering dust and darkness, and the clouds rain blood everywhere in a dreadful manner. The sun’s brilliance is dimmed, the planets collide in the sky, and the heavens seem ablaze and crowded with strange beings. Rivers and streams are agitated, lakes and even our minds are disturbed; the fire does not blaze even when ghee is poured. What will this time bring?” He went on, “Calves do not drink from their mothers, nor do cows yield milk. The cows, with tearful faces, cry, and the bulls do not rejoice. The deities seem to weep, sweat, and tremble. Towns, villages, gardens, lakes, and hermitages have lost their splendor and joy. What misfortune are these signs showing us?” Yudhishthira’s voice grew somber. “By these great omens, I think the earth has been deprived of the feet of the Lord and of those unique persons blessed by His fortune, and thus has lost its prosperity.” While he reflected in this way, his mind disturbed by these portents, Arjuna—the one with the monkey-banner—returned from the city of the Yadus. Yudhishthira saw his brother fall at his feet, unlike ever before, distressed, his face lowered, tears dropping from his eyes. Seeing Arjuna so troubled and changed, the king questioned him in the presence of their friends, recalling the words of Nārada. Yudhishthira asked, “Are our relatives in Anarta city living happily—the Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Ahukas, Satvatas, Andhakas, and Vrishnis? Is Shura, our maternal grandfather, well, and is his wife also well? Is our uncle Anakadundubhi, along with his younger brothers, safe? Are the seven sisters, their husbands, other maternal uncles with their sons and daughters-in-law, led by Devaki herself, all well?” He continued, “Is King Ahuka alive, and his son and younger brother? Is Hridika with his son, Akrura, Jayanta, Gada, and Sarana well? Are Shatrujit and others safe? Is Rama, Lord of the Satvatas, living happily? Is Pradyumna, the great chariot-warrior of all the Vrishnis, well? Is Aniruddha, deep in his passions, growing and blessed? Are Sushena, Charudesha, Samba—the son of Jambavati—and the foremost of the Karsnis, with their sons, like Rishabha, well? And likewise, are the followers of Shauri—Shrutadeva, Uddhava, Sunanda, Nanda, Shirishanya, and other chief Satvatas—well?” He asked further, “Are all those who rely on the arms of Rama and Krishna safe? Do those bound by friendship remember our welfare? Is Govinda, the Lord, devoted to the Brahmanas and affectionate to his devotees, living happily in the city of Sudharma, surrounded by friends? For the welfare, safety, and prosperity of the worlds, does the primeval, infinite friend, the man, remain in the ocean of the Yadu dynasty?” He recalled the happiness of the Yadus: “When the Yadus are honored in their own city, protected by many strong arms, they play in supreme bliss, like great heroes. By serving at His feet, which is their chief duty, Satyā and the other sixteen thousand women, having conquered the celestial goddesses in beauty, receive blessings suited for the beloveds of Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt. The foremost Yadus, living by the strength of their many arms and fearless at all times, forcibly enter the Sudharmā assembly hall, fit for the best of gods, with their feet, having brought it there.” Turning to Arjuna with concern, Yudhishthira asked, “My dear, are you free from illness? You seem as if your radiance has faded. Have you failed to obtain something, been disrespected, or stayed away for a long time? Have you not been struck by inauspicious things—sounds or other disturbances? Have you failed to give or fulfill what was promised to supplicants out of desire? Have you, as a giver of refuge, not rejected a Brahmin, child, cow, elder, sick person, woman, or any being who approached you for shelter?” He questioned further, “Have you not approached a woman who should not be approached, or one who should be, or one made your companion? Have you been defeated by superior or inferior paths? Have you eaten food that should be shared with elders and children? Have you committed any act that is disgraceful or beyond your capacity?” Finally, with deep affection, Yudhishthira asked, “O dearest, do you always feel empty and deprived in your heart by your own kin? Or do you think otherwise? If not, then there is no sorrow.” Thus, Yudhishthira, surrounded by ill omens and troubled by his brother’s sorrowful return, sought to understand the cause of Arjuna’s distress, fearing the loss of Krishna and the end of an era blessed by the Lord’s presence.