Kunti, her heart heavy with longing, approached Krishna and revealed the secret that had burdened her soul: “Krishna, Karna is my son; I saw him just after his birth. My mind suffers greatly—please, O possessor of austerity, let me see him once more.” She pleaded with him, trusting in his power and compassion, “You are capable, O blessed one; fulfill my desire, O lord.” Gandhari, too, poured out her sorrow: “Duryodhana went to battle, O sage, and I did not see him before he left this world. Show me my son, O best of sages, together with his younger brothers.” Subhadra, her voice trembling with emotion, added, “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 pleas, the wise charioteer recounted that the son of Satyavati—Vyasa, the great sage—listened with compassion. At twilight, after performing breath control and meditating upon the eternal Goddess, Vyasa made his way to the banks of the sacred Ganges. There, having bathed in the purifying waters, he gathered all the elders and the Pandavas, with Yudhishthira at their head, and began to praise the Mother of the Universe. He extolled her as the very essence of Nature, the delight of Spirit, the one who possesses attributes and yet is beyond all attributes, the Goddess of gods, the form of Brahman herself, dwelling in the jeweled isle. He remembered that, before even the Creator, Vishnu, Shiva, Indra, the lord of waters, Kubera, Yama, or Fire existed, she alone was—eternal and supreme. He bowed to her, acknowledging that when there was neither water, wind, earth, nor sky, nor their qualities, nor senses, nor mind, nor intellect, nor even the moon, she alone remained. Vyasa spoke of how she gathers all living beings into her mind and, withdrawing the subtle body and its qualities into absorption, abides for the duration of a cosmic cycle, acting by her own will—unfathomable, even to those who have attained discernment. He confessed, “This world beseeches me for the sight of the departed, but I am not able, O Mother. You alone can quickly show the dead to the people.” Thus praised, the glorious Lady of the Worlds, the great enchantress, responded. She summoned all the departed souls from heaven and revealed them to the grieving families. Kunti, Gandhari, Subhadra, and Virata’s daughter beheld their beloved sons and kin once more, and the Pandavas rejoiced at this wondrous reunion. When Vyasa, radiant with immeasurable brilliance, released the departed souls, all remembered the Goddess, the great enchantress, marveling as if awakening from a miraculous dream. Afterward, the Pandavas and the sages took their leave, and the king journeyed to Nagapura, recounting Vyasa’s divine tale along the way. Three days later, tragedy struck again. Dhritarashtra, the aged king, perished in a wildfire deep within the forest, accompanied by his devoted wife and Kunti. Sanjaya, having gone on pilgrimage, was not with them at the end. When Narada brought this news to King Yudhishthira, he was overcome with sorrow. Years passed, and after thirty-six years since the fall of the Kauravas, calamity befell the Yadavas at Prabhasa. Owing to the curse of the Brahmins, all the Yadavas perished. Intoxicated by wine, they fought amongst themselves, and those great souls met their end before the eyes of Balarama and Krishna. Balarama then relinquished his body, and Krishna, the lotus-eyed, fulfilled the curse—struck by a hunter’s arrow, he departed this world as the blessed Hari. When Vasudeva heard that Hari had left his mortal form, he too surrendered his life, having purified himself and meditated upon the glorious Lady of the Worlds. Arjuna, stricken with grief, hastened to Prabhasa and performed the proper funeral rites for all. He examined Krishna’s body, gathered a funeral pyre, and, together with Krishna’s eight wives, set it alight. He also burned the body of Balarama along with Revati, and then journeyed to Dvaraka, leading the remaining people away from the city. But fate was relentless. The ocean surged and swallowed the city of Vasudeva, and Arjuna, with the survivors, departed from the ruins. On the journey, Krishna’s wives were attacked by thieves and cowherds; their wealth was seized, and Arjuna, once mighty, found himself powerless to protect them. Arriving at Indraprastha, Arjuna installed Vajra, Aniruddha’s son, as king, for his own strength had faded. Burdened by sorrow, he sought out Vyasa and recounted all that had transpired. The great sage comforted him, saying, “When Hari and you are born again, O wise one, your energy will be exceedingly great in the next age.” Consoled, Arjuna set out for Nagapura. Afflicted, he told King Yudhishthira of all that had happened—the death of Krishna and the destruction of the Yadavas. The king, resolute, decided to renounce the world and depart for the golden mountain, installing Parikshit, the son of Uttara, on the throne after thirty-six years of rule. With Draupadi and his brothers, Yudhishthira left for the forest, having ruled at Hastinapura for thirty-six years. They journeyed to the Himalayas, and there, the six sons of Pritha surrendered their lives, while Parikshit, the royal sage, righteously protected the people. Parikshit ruled tirelessly for sixty years, but eventually became fond of hunting and ventured into the great forest. One day, while searching for a wounded deer at midday, he grew thirsty, exhausted, and hungry. Oppressed by heat, he came upon a sage deep in meditation and asked him for water. The sage, lost in his inner world, did not reply. Overcome by thirst and his mind clouded by the influence of Kali, Parikshit, in a moment of weakness, lifted a dead snake with the tip of his bow and placed it on the sage’s neck. Yet the sage remained unmoved, deep in meditation, and Parikshit returned to his palace. Meanwhile, the sage’s son, a boy of great austerity born of a cow, was playing near the forest. His friends told him, “Your father now has a snake on his neck.” And thus, the wheel of fate turned once more, setting the stage for the next chapter in the world’s great story.