A group of sages approached the royal palace, wishing to see King Parīkṣit. They instructed the guards, “Go inform your king that the sages desire an audience. We wish to bless him and, after offering sweet fruits, depart.” They reminded the guards that in the noble Bhārata lineage, there had never been doorkeepers barring entry, nor had ascetics ever been denied an audience with the king. Their intent was simple: ascend to the king, bestow blessings, and leave after receiving his permission. Sūta narrated that, upon hearing these words, the guards—recognizing the visitors as brāhmaṇas—responded according to the king’s instructions. “Today, O brāhmaṇas,” they said, “you cannot see the king. Such is our decision. Tomorrow, all ascetics may come to the royal palace.” They explained further, “The king has ordered that brāhmaṇas not ascend to the palace, out of fear of a brāhmaṇa’s curse. There is no doubt about this.” The brāhmaṇas then requested, “Let fruits, roots, and water be brought.” They instructed the guards to deliver these offerings to the king. The guards returned to Parīkṣit and informed him of the ascetics’ arrival. The king replied, “Bring me whatever fruits, roots, and such there are. Ask the ascetics their purpose, and about their coming again tomorrow morning. Convey my respects to them, for today I will not grant an audience.” The guards gathered the fruits, roots, and other items with great honor and presented them to the king. When the disguised brāhmaṇas and guards had departed, Parīkṣit took the fruits and spoke to his ministers, “Let my friends eat all these fruits today; I myself will eat this one great fruit offered by the brāhmaṇas.” He distributed the fruits to his friends, and, taking the ripe fruit in his hand, split it open. Inside the fruit, the king discovered a tiny worm—black-eyed and reddish. Astonished, he showed it to his ministers, saying, “The sun is setting; today I have no fear from poison. I accept the curse—let this worm bite me.” With resolve, Parīkṣit placed the worm upon his neck. As the sun set, the worm clung to his throat and transformed into Takṣaka, the terrifying serpent of death. Takṣaka entwined the king and bit him. The ministers, struck with wonder and grief, wept. The sight of the dreadful serpent caused the guards to flee in terror, and a great clamor arose. Parīkṣit, enwrapped by the serpent’s coils, lost all strength. He neither spoke nor moved. From Takṣaka’s mouth, a fierce, fiery flame erupted, burning and consuming the king’s body, taking his life in an instant. With swift ferocity, Takṣaka ascended into the sky, appearing to burn up the world. The king fell lifeless, like a tree consumed by fire, and all the people wailed, seeing their lord dead. Sūta continued: The ministers, seeing their king lifeless and his young son, performed the proper rites for his journey to the next world. On the banks of the Ganges, they placed Parīkṣit’s body—reduced to ashes—upon a pyre prepared with fragrant aloeswood. The priests, following the prescribed Vedic mantras, conducted the funeral rites for the one who had died a difficult death. They gave gifts to the brāhmaṇas: cows, gold as appropriate, abundant food, and many kinds of garments. At an auspicious hour, the ministers seated the young son—who increased the joy of the people—upon the splendid throne. Townspeople, villagers, and all the subjects proclaimed the child Janamejaya, endowed with royal marks, as king. The nurse taught him all about the royal insignia, and day by day, Janamejaya grew in intelligence and stature. When he reached his eleventh year, the family priest gave him the proper education, which Janamejaya received fittingly. Kripa instructed him in the complete and well-prepared science of archery, just as Drona did for Arjuna and Bhargava for Karna. Having acquired this knowledge, Janamejaya became strong and unconquerable, accomplished in archery and the Vedas, a knower of the highest truth. Skilled in the meaning of dharma’s scriptures, truthful, and self-controlled, he ruled the kingdom righteously, as the son of Dharma once did. Then, the king of Kashi, Suvarnavarma, gave his beautiful daughter—radiant in form—to Parīkṣit’s son. Janamejaya rejoiced upon receiving her, the dark-eyed princess, as kings of old rejoiced upon gaining their beloved. Just as Vichitravirya rejoiced in Subhadra, and Arjuna in her, Janamejaya wandered in forests and groves with his lotus-eyed bride. Like Shachi with Indra, his subjects flourished in happiness under his care. The ministers, skilled in their duties, accomplished all tasks. At this time, a sage named Uttanka arrived, afflicted by Takṣaka. He came to Hastinapura, pondering who might avenge his enmity.