Bhīṣma, eager to understand the mysteries of karma and yoga, asked, “How did the descendants of Kauśika attain supreme yoga? And how is the exhaustion of karma accomplished through five births?” Pulastya began his tale: “There was a great sage named Kauśika, righteous and pure-hearted, who dwelled in Kurukṣetra. Let me recount the story of his sons, both their names and their deeds.” Kauśika’s sons were Svasṛpa, Krodhana, Hiṃsra, Piśuna, and Kavi, as well as Vāgduṣṭa and Pitṛvartin. These seven became disciples of the sage Garga. After their father passed away, a terrible famine struck, bringing drought and terror to all people. Following Garga’s guidance, the ascetics took to guarding a milking cow in the forest. But hunger tormented them so severely that they considered eating the cow. As they debated this sinful act, the youngest brother suggested, “If she must be killed, let it be done as a śrāddha offering.” The others agreed, convinced that such a ritual would destroy their sin. Pitṛvartin, permitted by his brothers, performed the śrāddha with a focused mind, then partook of the cow. Two brothers received the divine share, three the ancestral share, and one was appointed as the guest. Pitṛvartin, as the śrāddha-giver, performed the rites with mantras, remembering their ancestors with devotion. Afterward, they approached their teacher without hesitation and reported, “The cow has been killed by a tiger; let this calf be accepted.” Thus, the seven ascetics consumed the cow, relying on their Vedic power and fearlessly committing this cruel act. In time, they died and were reborn as hunters in ten cities. Endowed with remembrance of their past lives, they remained devoted to their ancestors. There, realizing detachment, they gave up their lives righteously, fasting at holy places unseen by others. Next, they were born as deer on Mount Kālañjara. Through knowledge and yoga, they abandoned their bodies once more. Dying by falling, their minds filled with detachment, they were reborn as seven yogins in the city of Mānasa. Their names and deeds were: Sumanas, Kusumavasu, Cittadarśin, Sudarśin, Jñāta, Jñānasya, and Pāraga. Devoted to their eldest and foremost among men, these seven purified themselves through yoga. Yet, three among them, their minds unsteady, fell from yoga. They encountered the radiant Anuha, surrounded by women and enjoying various pleasures, a being of great strength and valor. Among aquatic creatures, one was born in the Panchala lineage, strong and possessing many vehicles, desiring sovereignty. There was also a Brahmin who followed his father’s path, performed śrāddha rites, and was devoted to his ancestors. He saw two other ministers, both powerful and possessing many vehicles. Desiring the position of minister, the two excellent Brahmins, sons of Vibhrāja, became ministers; one was known as Brahmadatta. The ministers’ sons were Puṇḍarīka and Subāla, while Brahmadatta was consecrated as king in the splendid city of Kampilya. Brahmadatta, the valiant king of the Panchalas, devoted to his ancestors and a performer of śrāddha, was a knower of yoga, able to understand the minds of all beings. His wife was Sannati, the daughter of Sudeva, renowned and descended from Kapila’s lineage. Because she engaged in ancestral duties, she became learned in the Vedas, and with her, the king’s son ruled the kingdom. One day, the king and his wife visited a garden, where they witnessed a pair of insects engaged in a quarrel of love. The male insect, standing before the female whose mouth was downward and whose body was scorched by the arrows of Kāma, spoke to her in a faltering voice. He praised her beauty, her slender form, her sweet smile, and her golden color, comparing her mouth to jaggery and sugar. He spoke of their shared life: “When I eat, you eat; when I bathe, you bathe. When I am away, you are sorrowful; when I am angry, you are restless with fear.” He asked, “Why do you always keep your face downward?” Burning with anger, she replied, “Why do you speak thus, O deceitful one? You ate the sweetmeat powder, leaving me aside; you gave it away, and then, disregarding me, became enamored with another.” The ant explained, “Because she resembled you, O fair-complexioned one, I gave it to another. Forgive me this one offense, O beautiful one. I will not do so again; give up your anger, O lovely-breasted one. I touch your feet in truth—be gracious to me, who am bowed before you. If you are angry, death stands before me; if you are pleased, all my desires are fulfilled. Always drink fully from my face, which is like the full moon and as sweet as nectar, for I am ever attached to love. Show compassion to me in auspicious deeds.” Hearing these words, the female ant became pleased. She offered herself for enchantment, and Brahmadatta, understanding all this, smiled gently. He knew the speech of all beings due to the power of his previous actions. Bhīṣma then asked, “How did King Brahmadatta come to know the speech of all beings? Where and how did that group of four chakravaka birds come to be? Tell me, O all-knowing one, in whose family and of what virtue?