As King Dhṛtarāṣṭra prepared to take his leave, Akrura, prompted by goodwill and in the presence of friends and relatives, approached the ruler who was known for his partiality toward his own sons. With gentle words, Akrura addressed him, saying, “O descendant of Vicitravīrya, you who increase the glory of the Kuru line, now that your brother Pāṇḍu has departed, you have taken up the throne. If you rule the earth with justice, delighting your people with virtue and holding yourself impartial between your own sons and the sons of Pāṇḍu, you will gain both prosperity and lasting fame. “But if you act otherwise, you will be condemned and fall into darkness. Therefore, O King, show equal regard toward the Pāṇḍavas and your own children. In this world, no one remains forever with anyone—not even with their own body, what to speak of wife, sons, and others. Each living being is born alone and dies alone; alone one experiences the fruits of good deeds, and alone also the results of evil. “Wealth gained unrighteously is soon taken by others of little understanding, just as leeches drink water while pretending friendship. One who, lacking wisdom, supports others unjustly, finds that his life, wealth, sons, and companions abandon him, leaving him unfulfilled. Having taken on sin himself and abandoned by those for whom he was not wise in his dealings, such a person, having failed in his purpose, falls into blind darkness, turning away from his own duty. “Therefore, O King, see this world as a dream, an illusion, a fantasy. Know yourself by yourself, and remain equal-minded and peaceful, O master.” Hearing these auspicious words, Dhṛtarāṣṭra replied, “O lord of charity, your words are truly a blessing, and I am never satisfied by hearing them, just as a mortal is never satisfied upon tasting nectar. Yet, gentle one, though your words are sweet, they do not remain steady in a heart restless with the poison of attachment to one’s children, just as lightning does not linger in the sky. “Who, indeed, can overturn the will of the Lord, O man? He who has descended in the Yadu dynasty for the removal of the earth’s burden. He who, by his own inscrutable power, creates this world, divides the qualities, and then enters into it—unto Him, the Supreme Lord, whose play is beyond comprehension, who moves within the wheel of worldly existence, I offer my respects.” Śuka then explained that, understanding the king’s heart, Akrura, having been permitted by his friends, returned to the city of the Yadus. There, he reported to Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa all that Dhṛtarāṣṭra had done regarding the Pāṇḍavas, for which he had been sent. Thus ends the forty-ninth chapter of the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Śuka continued: O best of the Bharatas, Asti and Prāpti, the wives of Kaṃsa, grieving over the death of their husband, went to the house of their father. To their father, Jarāsandha, the king of Magadha, who was deeply distressed, they revealed all that had happened, the cause of their widowhood. Hearing this painful news, Jarāsandha was overwhelmed with grief and anger, and made a great effort to destroy the Yadava clan. Gathering a massive force—twenty-three akṣauhiṇīs—he surrounded Mathurā, the capital of the Yadus, on all sides. Seeing this vast army, swelling like the ocean, and his city besieged, with his people filled with fear, Kṛṣṇa considered the situation. The Lord Hari, appearing in human form, reflected on the purpose of his descent, taking into account the time, place, and circumstances. He resolved, “I will destroy this force, which has gathered as a burden upon the earth, brought together by the king of Magadha from all the subjugated rulers. These armies, counted by akṣauhiṇīs, with their soldiers, horses, chariots, and elephants, must be destroyed. Yet the king of Magadha should not be slain, for he will again assemble a force. This is the purpose of my descent: to relieve the earth of its burden, to protect the virtuous, and to destroy others. Another body is also assumed by me for the protection of dharma, and, when adharma arises, for its cessation.” As Govinda thus meditated, two chariots, radiant as the sun, suddenly appeared from the sky, complete with drivers and all equipment. Divine and ancient weapons also manifested by chance. Seeing them, Hṛṣīkeśa spoke to Saṅkarṣaṇa, “Behold, O noble one, the calamity that has befallen the Yadus, O Lord of those who have descended to earth; here is your chariot, along with your beloved weapons. Indeed, for this very purpose have we been born, O Lord, bringer of happiness to the virtuous: to remove the burden of the earth, known as the twenty-three armies.” Thus having consulted together, the two sons of Dasharha, resolute and armed for battle since ancient times, set out, equipped with their weapons and accompanied by a small force. Hari, with Daruka as his charioteer, blew his conch as he set out; at that sound, terror and trembling arose in the hearts of the enemy soldiers. Seeing them, the king of Magadha mocked, “O Krishna, lowest of men, I do not wish to fight with you, a mere boy, out of shame; nor with you, who hide behind others, O dullard—go away, destroyer of kin, I will not fight you. But you, Rama, if you have faith, fight and show your courage; either abandon your body, cut down by my arrows, and ascend to heaven, or kill me.” The Blessed Lord replied, “Truly, heroes do not boast; they simply display their valor. We do not heed the words of one who is distressed and facing death, O King.” Śuka continued: The son of Jara then rushed at the two Madhavas, surrounding them with a mighty host—chariots, elephants, horses, and banners—like the wind enveloping the sun and fire with clouds of dust. The women, seeing the two chariots of Hari and Rama, marked with the emblems of Garuda and the palm tree, in the midst of battle, took refuge in the ancient towers, palaces, and gateways, overcome with grief and confusion. Hari, seeing his own army—honored by gods and demons—afflicted again and again by the fierce rain of arrows from the enemy host, sounded his supreme Sharnga bow with a thunderous twang. Drawing arrows from his quiver, stringing and releasing volleys of sharp shafts, he struck down chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers, while the whirling discus never left his hand.