The fisherman, addressing the noble prince, said, “Take my daughter, O greatly fortunate one, and make her your wife. But there is one condition: her son must be king after you; your own offspring may not inherit the throne while you live.” Hearing this, Gāṅgeya—Bhīṣma—replied with unwavering resolve, “Let this daughter of the fisherman be my mother. I renounce the kingdom; her son shall certainly rule, of this there is no doubt.” The fisherman, moved by Bhīṣma’s words, responded, “I know your promise is true. Yet if you have a son, he may, by his own strength, seize the kingdom.” Bhīṣma assured him, “I will never marry, in any way. My word is my vow, O father. I have taken the vow of Bhīṣma.” Hearing this tremendous vow, the fisherman joyfully gave his radiant daughter Satyavatī to King Śantanu. Thus, by this solemn arrangement, Satyavatī was united with Śantanu, though the noble king was unaware of the further birth of Vyāsa. Sūta continued: Thus Satyavatī became Śantanu’s wife, and two sons were born to her. Yet, by the force of time, both sons died. Later, by the sage Vyāsa’s seed, Dhṛtarāṣṭra was born, but he was blind, for when the sage approached, the woman shut her eyes in shyness. When another, the king’s daughter, saw Vyāsa and turned pale with fear, Pandu was born from Vyāsa’s anger—this is certain. Pleased by the maidservant skilled in the art of desire, Vyāsa begot Vidura, a portion of Dharma himself, ever truthful and pure. Though Pandu was the younger, the ministers established him as king, for Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s blindness prevented his ascension. With Bhīṣma’s approval, mighty Pandu ruled the kingdom, and wise Vidura was entrusted with counsel and governance. Dhṛtarāṣṭra had two wives: Gandhari, daughter of Subala, and another, a Vaishya woman devoted to her household. Pandu, too, had two wives as the Vedic scholars declare: Kunti, daughter of Shurasena, and Madri, princess of Madra. Gandhari bore a hundred splendid sons, while the Vaishya woman bore Yuyutsu, her beloved son. Kunti, while still a maiden in her father’s house, first bore Karna, radiant as the Sun, and only later married Pandu. The sages, astonished, questioned Sūta, “How is this possible? How was Karna born from the Sun while Kunti was yet a maiden? How did she remain a maiden and marry Pandu?” Sūta explained: Kunti, daughter of Shurasena, was, as a child, given to King Kuntibhoja, who adopted her as his own. With a gentle smile, she was chosen to serve the radiant sage Durvasa, who arrived during the sacred four-month vow. Kunti served him with devotion, and the sage, pleased, bestowed upon her a sacred mantra: by invoking it, any god would come and fulfill her desire. After the sage departed, Kunti, curious and alone, wondered which god she might invoke to test the mantra’s power. At that moment, the Sun appeared before her. Reciting the mantra, she called upon the blazing deity. From his brilliant orb, the Sun descended in a human form of surpassing beauty, appearing before her in her chamber. Astonished and trembling, Kunti immediately felt the consequences of her womanhood. With folded palms and shining eyes, Kunti addressed the Sun, “I am honored by your presence, but now, O lord, please return to your realm.” The Sun replied, “Kunti, by the power of your mantra you have summoned me. Why call me here if you do not honor me, though I stand before you? O dark-eyed one, I am overcome with desire. Unite with me, for you have drawn me here under your control.” Kunti protested, “I am a maiden, O knower of righteousness, and a noble daughter. I bow to you, witness of all, but I cannot be reproached for this.” The Sun insisted, “If I leave in vain, I shall be shamed among the gods. If you refuse, I will curse the sage who gave you the mantra, and you as well, Kunti. But know this: your maidenhood will remain intact, and no one will know. A son, equal to me, will be born to you.” Thus, after uniting with Kunti, who was deeply modest and troubled, the Sun granted her the desired boon and departed. The beautiful Kunti bore the embryo in secret, known only to her nurse and dearest companion—not even her mother knew. In time, a radiant son was born, adorned with natural armor and earrings, shining like a second Sun. Overwhelmed with shame and sorrow, Kunti entrusted the infant to her nurse, saying, “What am I to do, tormented for my son? Though you are dearer to me than life itself, I must abandon you. May the supreme Goddess Ambika protect you, and may Mother Katyayani nourish you. When will I see your beautiful lotus face again, O son of the Sun? Abandoning you in the lonely forest, I am as wretched as a wanton woman.” Thus unfolded the destinies of Satyavatī, her lineage, and the wondrous birth of Karna, each event woven into the great tapestry of the Bharata.