When Vidura was no longer seen among them, Dharma himself wondered aloud, “Where is Vidura, that wise soul?” In response, the son of Ambika—Dhritarashtra—spoke, explaining Vidura’s absence. He described how Vidura, the charioteer, now wandered detached from all ties, indifferent to possessions and worldly concerns. Alone in solitude, he meditated deeply, his mind fixed inwardly upon the eternal truth. On the second day, while journeying through the forest to the sacred Ganga, King Yudhishthira caught sight of Vidura. The once robust Vidura now appeared emaciated, his form thinned by austerity, yet his resolve was unwavering. Seeing him, Yudhishthira approached and respectfully bowed, saying, “I bow to you, Yudhishthira.” Yet Vidura stood motionless, silent and unmoving, as if transformed into a statue, pure and serene. In that very moment, a wondrous radiance shone forth from Vidura’s face and, as if drawn by a hidden bond, merged into Yudhishthira’s own countenance. This marvel occurred because both were of one essence—Dharma itself. Then, Vidura, the charioteer, relinquished his life. Yudhishthira was overcome with grief and began to make preparations for Vidura’s funeral rites. But as the king listened, a heavenly, bodiless voice spoke to him: “He is detached and not fit for burning; go as you wish, O king.” Hearing these words, Yudhishthira and his brothers bathed in the pure waters of the Ganga. Afterwards, they returned and reported all that had transpired to Dhritarashtra in detail. The Pandavas remained at the hermitage, accompanied by the citizens. There, the venerable sage Vyasa—the son of Satyavati—arrived, as did the divine sage Narada. Other great sages also gathered at that holy place, the abode of Dharma. Then Kunti, her heart heavy, approached Vyasa, who was resplendent and auspicious in appearance. She addressed him with deep longing: “O Krishna, Karna is my son; I saw him only once, just after his birth. My mind suffers greatly with longing. O possessor of austerity, please show him to me. You are capable, O blessed one; fulfill my desire, O lord.” Gandhari too spoke, her voice filled with sorrow: “Duryodhana went to battle; I did not see him, O sage. Show me my son, together with his younger brothers, O best of sages.” Subhadra, with tears in her eyes, also pleaded: “Abhimanyu, the great hero, is dearer to me than life. I wish to see him, O all-knowing one; show him to me today, O possessor of austerity.” Hearing these heartfelt requests, the son of Satyavati, Vyasa, prepared himself. He performed breath control and entered deep meditation upon the eternal Goddess. At twilight, the eminent sage stood by the Ganges, summoning Yudhishthira and the others. After bathing in the sacred river, he praised the Mother of the Universe. Vyasa extolled Her as Nature itself, as the delight of Spirit, as both with and beyond attributes, as the Goddess of gods, the very form of Brahman, dwelling in the jeweled isle. He proclaimed, “When neither the Creator, nor Vishnu, nor Shiva, nor Indra, nor the lord of waters, nor Kubera, nor Yama, nor Fire existed—then, O Goddess, You alone were; I bow to Her. When there was neither water, nor wind, nor earth, nor sky, nor their qualities, nor senses, nor mind, nor intellect, nor the sharp-rayed moon—then, O Goddess, You alone were; I bow to Her. Having gathered this world of living beings in Your mind, and withdrawn the subtle body with its qualities into absorption, You remain for the duration of a cycle, acting by Your own will; none, even those who have attained discernment, know You. This world beseeches me for the sight of the departed, but I am not able, O Mother—You, quickly show the dead to the people.” Thus praised, the Goddess—enchantress and glorious Lady of the Worlds—answered the sage’s call. She summoned the departed from heaven and revealed them to their longing kin. Kunti, Gandhari, Subhadra, and Uttara, the daughter of Virata, all rejoiced along with the Pandavas, beholding their loved ones once more. Then, released by Vyasa of immeasurable brilliance, they remembered the great enchantress, the Goddess, as if a wondrous illusion had been lifted. Having received this blessing, the Pandavas, the sages, and all present took their leave. The king journeyed to Nagapura, recounting Vyasa’s miraculous tale along the way. On the third day thereafter, Suta recounted, a wildfire swept through the forest and consumed King Dhritarashtra, his devoted wife Gandhari, and Kunti, who accompanied them. Sanjaya, having set out on pilgrimage, had left the king’s side. When Yudhishthira heard this news from Narada, he was overcome with deep sorrow. Thirty-six years after the fall of the Kauravas, a terrible fate befell the Yadavas at Prabhasa. Due to the curse of the Brahmins, all the Yadavas perished. Intoxicated by wine, they fought among themselves, and those great souls met their end before the very eyes of Balarama and Krishna. Balarama relinquished his body, and Krishna, the lotus-eyed Lord, fulfilled the curse—struck by a hunter’s arrow, he departed this world as the blessed Hari. Upon hearing of Krishna’s departure, Vasudeva, his father, purified himself, meditated upon the glorious Lady of the Worlds, and gave up his own life. Arjuna, deeply distressed, hurried to Prabhasa and performed the proper funeral rites for all the departed. He examined Hari’s body and, gathering a funeral pyre, set it alight together with Krishna’s eight wives. Then, he burned the body of Balarama along with Revati in the fire. With these rites complete, Arjuna proceeded to Dvārakā and led the people out of the city. Soon after, the ocean rose and flooded the city of Vāsudeva, and Arjuna departed with the survivors. On their journey, Krishna’s wives were attacked by thieves and cowherds, who seized all their wealth. Arjuna, once so powerful, now found himself unable to protect them. Reaching Indraprastha, Arjuna installed Vajra, son of Aniruddha, as king, for his own strength had waned. Arjuna then went to Vyasa and poured out his sorrow. The sage consoled him, saying, “When Hari and you are born again in the next age, O wise one, your energy will again be exceedingly great.” Comforted by these words, Partha journeyed to Nagapura. There, still afflicted, Arjuna told King Yudhishthira all that had occurred—the death of Hari, Krishna, and the destruction of the Yadavas.