When the celestial sage Narada had unfolded before Dharmaja the splendour of other royal halls, he spoke with gentle urgency: “Your father Pandu charged me to remind you that the Rājasūya, rightly performed, shall lift your glory in both worlds and release your forefathers from the wheel of birth and death. The treasure you have gathered must be given in right measure to the worthy—scholars, brahmins, and holy sages; when their hearts are satisfied, their blessings shall strengthen your resolve. Honour and sustain the four natural orders of society, each according to its own quality, and uphold the four stages of a man’s life with their distinct duties and purpose. Thus is the sacred system preserved, guiding men to spiritual perfection through a life that fulfills both the duties of the world and the aspirations of the soul. Let your kingdom, through this sacrifice, win an undying place in both the realms of men and gods. Yet beware: the Rājasūya will draw against you the dark brood of demonic minds. Their deeds have turned them into forces of evil, and they will strive to thwart the rite so that you might be dragged into their own fall. Should the Yajña be completed without hindrance, a vast and terrible war is foretold.”
So prophesied the sage, and, having spoken, he vanished to his own bright sphere. Dharmaja, gazing upon his brothers in the presence of Vyasa, Dhoumya, his kinsmen and counsellors, pondered aloud: “It is the son’s duty to fulfil a father’s cherished wish. The merit of the children’s virtue belongs to the ancestors. This Rājasūya will bring them blessing—yet the seer has warned that its fruit is also a dreadful war.” His mind swung between the hope of heavenly gain and the dread of mortal ruin.
Then Dhoumya and Vyasa counselled him: “Perform the Ashvamedha without hesitation. By it the sins of the people will be washed away; kings will bow to your splendour; wealth will pour in from every quarter. O best of the Kuru line, no monarch shall rival your human endeavour.” Their words won the applause of his brothers. But Dharmaja, discerning the vastness of the task, knew in his heart that only one could guide such a mighty rite—Krishna himself, the eternal incarnation of Mahā-Vishnu, without beginning or end, the primal soul who descends among men to guard the righteous and chastise the wicked.
He summoned his trusted servants and said, “Go, bring hither Vāsudeva, the slayer of Madhu.” His mind, once resolved, grew calm while he awaited the Lord’s coming. Krishna, receiving the summons, longed equally to behold his kin at Indraprastha. From Dvārakā, he set forth without pause and soon arrived. The divine one—who in other ages had slain the demon Hiraṇyāksha and rescued the earth—bowed with folded hands to Kuntī and Dharmaja. He embraced the mighty Bhīma; Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva stood with heads bowed, and he raised them in affection. To elders, he offered reverence; to the younger, he gave the same warm love; in him humility and majesty mingled like light and fragrance.
Dharmaja seated Krishna upon a high throne and worshipped him as one would a great preceptor, neglecting no rite nor courtesy. Then, with quiet joy, he said: “O Padmanābha, Lord Krishna, adored by all, unshaken in every world and yet held fast by the love of thy devotees, thou knowest the moral law and the subtle craft of men. My father Pandu, through Nārada, has urged me to perform the Rājasūya for the good of our ancestors. Whether from affection or from trust in my strength, I cannot tell. My counsellors bid me accept; yet I await thy command.”
Krishna answered: “O scion of the Kurus, Yudhishthira, behind you stand brothers of incomparable worth, able to subdue all evil. It is fitting that you undertake this rite. Know that in ancient times the son of Jamadagni, Parashurāma, swept the earth clean of Kshatriya kings. Of all royal lines only two endured—the houses of Ila and of Ikshvāku. Ila, child of Vaivasvata Manu, by the grace of Īshvara once took the form of a man, then, by a curse of Śiva, became a woman, and again, by fate, returned to manhood. From her union with Budha, son of Chandra, was born Pururava, founder of the lunar race. Ikshvāku, also the son of Manu, became the root of the solar kings. From these sprang the dynasties of the moon and the sun; all other lines are but later creations and no true heirs to the ancient crown. Over time these two houses expanded into a hundred and one royal families; of these, Yayāti of the lunar race begot the Bhoja line and many others.
“Now hear of Jarāsandha, king of Magadha, whose power has crushed these royal clans. None can easily recount his courage and strength. At his side stands Śiśupāla, king of Chedi—proud, cruel and mighty—his general and constant ally. With them are the brothers Hamsa and Dimbhaka, masters of black art and illusion, trained in every form of war, never yet defeated; and the warriors Kaushika and Chitrasena with their vast hosts. Bhagadatta, as strong as Varuna himself, though once allied with your father and well-disposed to you, follows Jarāsandha in fear. Kings of Anga, Vanga, Pundra and the Kirathas, even Paundraka Vāsudeva who dares to mimic my own name, have all bound themselves to Magadha’s lord. To the east and south, Purajita, Karusha, Kalabha, Nakula, Sankarshana, Supahita, Manodatta, Chakra, Shalvaya and the Yavana chiefs obey his will.
“In the north, among the eighteen ancient clans—Uttara Panchala, Surasena, Pushkara, Pulinda, Kalinga, Kunthi, Matsya—the kings live in exile, cowed by his might. You know of Kamsa, your old foe, whose pride I shattered. His queen, daughter of Jarāsandha, inflamed her father’s hatred and turned his vengeance upon me. Hamsa and Dimbhaka, with Jarāsandha, could have conquered even the three worlds. When they once marched against Dvārakā with the Yadus, Bhojas, Andhakas and Vrishnis—eighteen thousand chariots strong—we met them with guile. We spread the rumour that Dimbhaka had fallen in battle. In grief, Hamsa drowned himself, and when Dimbhaka heard of his brother’s death, he too perished. Jarāsandha, bereft, withdrew to Magadha. Yet his malice endures, and we moved our seat from Mathura to the mountain-fort of Raivataka for safety.
“This tyrant has seized many kings and offers them in ruthless sacrifice to Bhairava. O Dharmaraja, if Jarāsandha is slain, those captive monarchs will be freed and your fame will shine across the earth and the heavens. This deed will serve a double purpose—securing your own sovereignty and bringing true deliverance to the oppressed. Let this be the first stroke in the strategy that shall make your Rājasūya a triumph and a blessing to the world.”
