Pulastya, the sage, spoke gently to Bhīṣma, promising to reveal everything in full. “Listen, O best of kings,” he said, “and you shall never again fall into delusion. I will explain how one becomes a ghost, and by what means one is freed from that state—a condition so dreadful that even the gods struggle to cross its hellish boundaries.” He continued, “Through virtuous conversation and recounting the glories of holy places, those who have fallen into ghostly births can find liberation.” Pulastya then narrated a tale from ancient times. “There once lived a Brahmin, renowned everywhere for his strict vows, always content and devoted to self-study in his home. His life was spent practicing yoga, recitation, and sacrifice. Patience and compassion were his companions; forgiveness and knowledge of truth guided him. His mind was fixed on nonviolence and gentleness. He lived in celibacy, endowed with ascetic discipline and yoga, diligent in ancestral rites and attentive to Vedic rituals. Driven by fear of the next world, he remained steadfast in truthfulness, gentle in speech, and devoted to honoring guests. Acts of charity and sacrifice fulfilled him; free from dualities, he performed his prescribed duties and continued his self-study. Thus, desiring to overcome worldly existence, he lived many years as a householder Brahmin. One day, a thought arose in his mind: ‘Let me sanctify this body, soaked with the holy waters of sacred places.’ With pure intent, he bathed at Pushkara at sunrise, completed his recitations and salutations, and set out on pilgrimage. As he journeyed, he entered a forest thick with thorny trees, deserted and devoid of birds. There, ahead of him, he saw five men—terrifying in appearance, deformed, fierce, and dreadful to behold. Though his heart trembled, he stood firm and unmoving. Gathering his courage and casting off fear, he addressed them sweetly: ‘Who are you, so deformed, and from where do you come? What deeds have you done, that you have not attained a better state? How is it that all of you are like this, and where are you headed?’ The pretas replied, ‘We are always afflicted by hunger and thirst, surrounded by great suffering. Our minds are lost, our senses destroyed, and our awareness gone. We do not know any direction, nor any region; we do not know the sky, nor the earth, nor even the heavens. What you call suffering would be happiness for us. Now it appears to be morning, as we see the rising of the sun.’ They introduced themselves: ‘I am called Paryuṣita; another is Sūcīmukha; there is Śīghraga, Rohaka, and the fifth is Lekhaka.’ The Brahmin asked, ‘How is it that pretas, born of various deeds, have names? For what reason are you known by these names?’ The pretas explained: ‘I always ate fresh food but gave stale food to Brahmins; because of this, I am called Paryuṣita. Sūcīmukha pricked many Brahmins who desired food; for this reason, he is known as Sūcīmukha. Śīghraga quickly went away when a hungry Brahmin begged him; thus, he is called Śīghraga. Rohaka always ate delicious food atop the house, out of fear of Brahmins; his mind was anxious there, and thus he is called Rohaka. Lekhaka, remaining silent when begged, scratched the earth; he is the most sinful among us and is known as Lekhaka. With difficulty Lekhaka departs, while Rohaka goes head downward. Sūcī, swift-moving and crippled, became needle-faced. Stale, with a hanging neck and called Lambodara, broad-testicles and thick lips, from sin he was born thus. All this has been told to you—my own story, with its causes. Ask if you have faith, and when questioned, we shall speak.’ The Brahmin then asked, ‘All living beings dwelling on earth are sustained by food; I wish to hear, in truth, about your food as well.’ The pretas replied, ‘Hear about our food, despised by all creatures. Upon hearing it, O Brahmin, you will reproach us again and again, always. Pretas eat in houses abandoned by cleanliness, with phlegm, urine, excrement, and women’s bodily filth. Pretas eat what is burned by women, scattered, and mixed with leftovers, even what is disgusting with filth. Pretas eat what lacks purity of mind and modesty, what is devoid of offerings, and what is without vows. Pretas eat in houses where elders are not honored, where women have conquered, and where anger and greed prevail. Shame arises in me, dear one, as I speak of my own food; it is not possible to speak of anything worse than this.’ The pretas then pleaded, ‘We ask you, steadfast in vows, about the cessation of the preta state; tell us, O possessor of austerity, how one does not become a preta.’ The Brahmin answered, ‘By performing vows such as ekarātra, dvirātra, kṛcchra, cāndrāyaṇa, and others regularly, a man does not become a preta. He who daily serves three fires, five, or even one, and is endowed with compassion for beings, does not become a preta. He who is equal in honor and dishonor, equal regarding gold and clay, equal towards enemy and friend, does not become a preta.’ Thus, Pulastya conveyed the story, revealing the causes of ghostly existence and the means of liberation, so Bhīṣma and all who hear may never fall into delusion again.