Vedāyana, desiring to understand Mukunda’s predicament, gently asked, “How did the sin arising from neglect of your teacher come upon you? Please, dear one, tell me this, so that I may know the truth.” Mukunda replied earnestly, “I have not violated the command of those who created the sacred thread for girls, nor have I transgressed the Veda, nor the instructions of the one who gave me the sacred thread. I have served my father-in-law and mother-in-law as a servant would, and I have never disobeyed you, my teacher in the scriptures. Yet, against the family priest, the preceptor accomplished in the Veda and its end, I did commit an offense. You ought to hear of it. “In our family, when a son skilled in righteousness is born, it is customary to give a cow or something equivalent as a fee to the family priest. By giving this, the lineage is considered pure and established. But on the auspicious day when my own son was born, Father, I did not perform the family rites. Foolishly neglecting them, I became one who caused the loss of my lineage. All this I have reported to you: how sin befell me due to the loss of my lineage. Grant me permission, for I wish to go to the abode of the gods.” Vedāyana then said, “Within the region of Indraprastha exists this auspicious Kośalā. By her grace, one may remember their previous birth. By what merit have your bones fallen in this holy place? Tell me, Mukunda, if you possess memory of this.” Mukunda answered, “Once, a certain Brahmin came to my house in the evening. I gave him a place and food according to proper custom. He ate as he wished and slept on a fine bed. At midnight, a severe fever afflicted his whole body. Tormented in every limb, the Brahmin could not sleep. At dawn, with death approaching, he departed from life. I performed the prescribed rites for his cremation, O teacher, and his bones were properly cast into the Ganges. By that merit, my bones have fallen in this holy place, Kośalā, created by Brahmadeva, which bestows auspiciousness.” Nārada then spoke: “Having spoken thus, that Brahmin, radiant as a god, immediately ascended to heaven in a celestial vehicle. I have narrated how he met death at the hands of a thief, yet attained heaven by the grace of this king of holy places.” Thus concludes the two hundred and tenth chapter in the story of Mukunda, in the section on the glory of the Kalindi, in the Uttarakhaṇḍa of the revered Padma Mahāpurāṇa, which contains fifty-five thousand verses. Nārada continued: “O auspicious one, before you I have recounted the excellent story of Mukunda. Now listen to the tale of Caṇḍaka, the barber. On the day Mukunda, the Brahmin, was slain by Caṇḍaka, O king, the event was heard by the townspeople. Having heard it, they reported it clearly before the king, saying, ‘Caṇḍaka has killed Mukunda, the foremost Brahmin, O king. He has taken much wealth; if it is proper, let it be restored. You are the protector of our people and the ruler over the wicked.’ Hearing this, the king’s eyes reddened with anger. He addressed his minister, who stood nearby: ‘What is being said by these people? Listen. Quickly bring the wicked one; otherwise, I will have you killed. Arise, arise, O most sinful one; let the welfare of the virtuous be ensured. In whose realm the subjects are oppressed by fierce robbers, that king goes to hell if he does not protect them.’ Upon the king’s command, the minister, together with the king, swiftly mounted a horse, accompanied by hundreds of foot soldiers. They went to Mukunda’s house and questioned his relatives: ‘By whom was Mukunda killed? Tell me the truth before me. I will destroy that wicked one by the king’s order.’ Hearing these words, the relatives of the Brahmin replied, ‘Mukunda was killed by the fierce barber. As he was fleeing, his turban fell off. He was seen with her own eyes by Mukunda’s wife, committing the crime. What can we do with that sinner, drowned in the ocean of grief?’ Hearing these words, the minister went to the house of the wicked barber. Dismounting quickly from his horse, he entered the house with a few soldiers and saw the barber lying there. The soldiers, commanded at that moment, dragged him by the hair and lifted that wicked, vile barber from his bed. Muttering, ‘What, what?’ he opened his eyes, and as soon as the sinful barber saw them before him, he remembered his own deed—the sin he committed at night. For a moment he stood with his head bowed, seeing Yama standing above his head. The minister, having seized the wicked one with his soldiers, brought him before the king and spoke: ‘O king, here is the murderer of a Brahmin, the fierce barber. Whatever you command, master, I will do at once.’ The king said, ‘O wise minister, listen to my words. This river, Candrabhāgā, is pure and excellent among rivers. Those who give up their lives here attain the abode of the gods. Therefore, this sinful barber must not be killed here. If, outside the boundary of this river, in the region of Pañcakośa, he crosses the limit, let this murderer of a Brahmin quickly go to the dreadful hells.’ Thus instructed by the king, the excellent minister sent the outcaste men to kill him by the king’s order.