It was a serene morning in Hastinapur. Yudhisthir was surprised to see Shree Krishna—He upon whom the whole world meditates—lost in deep contemplation. Curious, he asked, “O Shyamsundar, whom do You meditate upon today?” Krishna replied, “Upon Bhishma, son of Ganga. Though he lies on a bed of arrows in Kurukshetra, his mind remains absorbed in Me. And as one worships Me, I reciprocate accordingly. Thus, I meditate upon him.” ये यथा मां प्रपद्यन्ते तांस्तथैव भजाम्यहम्  (Bhagavad Gita Verse 4.11).

Those words stirred Yudhisthir’s heart. Memories of the Mahabharat war resurfaced, and remorse gripped him. He wondered, if his desire for the throne caused such devastation. Krishna, sensing his sorrow consoled him, “Do not grieve, Yudhisthir. You are not to blame. Free yourself from grief by understanding the true meaning of Dharma.” Moved by the Lord’s words, Yudhisthir humbly sought the path to wisdom. Krishna said, “There is no greater knower of Dharma than Bhishma, who now awaits his final moments. Let us go to him.”

Waiting Earnestly

With Shree Krishna and the Pandavas stepping onto the soil of Kurukshetra, a profound chapter was about to unfold. At its core was Bhishma, the grandsire of the Kuru dynasty. Bhishma, unmatched in valor, was at heart a rasik—ever immersed in the divine Pastimes of Shree Krishna. Though he commanded the Kaurava army in the Mahabharat war, Bhishma knew victory belonged to the Pandavas. The Bhagavad Gita affirms this:

यत्र योगेश्वर: कृष्णो यत्र पार्थो धनुर्धर: । 

तत्र श्रीर्विजयो भूतिध्रुवा नीतिर्मतिर्मम ॥ ~ Verse 78

Wherever there is Shree Krishna, wherever there is Arjun, there will always be victory.

Bhishma’s choice to fight for the Kauravas was not born of allegiance. His intent was to glorify the Lord by demonstrating that even with the might of Bhishma on their side, the Kauravas could not triumph. This was his offering: a paradox of loyalty and surrender. When Bhishma fell in the battle, pierced by countless arrows, his body did not touch the earth. Sustained by the boon of Swechha Mrityu—the freedom to choose his moment of death—he lay upon a bed of arrows, awaiting the auspicious time to depart.

Amid this stillness, an unforgettable vision got etched into Bhishma’s heart: Shree Krishna, charging towards him with a chariot wheel in hand—His eyes blazing with fury. Though Shree Krishna had vowed never to wield a weapon in the war, Bhishma had declared, “If I don’t make Krishna lift weapons in the battle, then I am not the son of Mother Ganga and King Shantanu.” To honor His devotee’s word, the Lord broke His own. Even in that fierce Form, Krishna’s presence overflowed with sweetness. Smiling in ecstasy, Bhishma thought, “What a blessed sight!.” For six months, on the bed of arrows, Bhishma meditated on that very Form of the Lord. 

At the destined hour, the Pandavas, Draupadi, and Shree Krishna gathered at Bhishma’s side. Word of this sacred moment spread across the celestial realms, drawing sages to witness the venerable warrior’s final hours. The Pandavas and Draupadi offered respects; Krishna stood beside him. Overwhelmed, Bhishma offered his pranam through tears.

Golden Words of the Grandsire

At this juncture, Yudhishthir humbly sought Bhishma’s guidance on Dharma. As Bhishma expounded in detail on the essence of duties, values, conduct, and righteous living—Draupadi, unexpectedly, let out a laugh. Bhishma turned to her with gentle concern, “My child, why are you laughing?” Her response was sharp yet dignified: "Maharaj, you speak of Dharma with such conviction, but tell me where was this Dharma when I was dishonored in the Kaurava assembly? You were present there yet remained silent.”

Bhishma admitted, “My child, you are right. I was bound by my obligations. I had partaken of Duryodhan’s grain, and in doing so, I became indebted to him. My judgment became clouded. But, as Arjun’s arrows pierced my body, the blood has drained away, and along with it all the impurities. My intellect is now clear, and I see things as they truly are.”

Bhishma then recited the thousand names of the Lord and finally declared:

एष मे सर्वधर्माणां धर्मोऽधिकतमो मतः । 

यद्भक्त्या पुण्डरीकाक्षं स्तवैरर्चेन्नरः सदा ॥ ~ Mahabharat Verse 13.135.8

The highest Dharma is to develop love at the lotus feet of Shree Krishna. There is no Dharma greater than this.

Bhishma finally turned to Krishna and said, “O Lord, my time has come. Before I depart, I wish to offer you something precious—my unmarried daughter.” Though an Akhand Brahmachari, famed for his lifelong vow of celibacy, Bhishma’s words bore deeper meaning. The daughter he spoke of was his intellect—unattached to the world and ever-devoted only to the Lord. Aware that even the strongest minds could falter at death’s door, he offered his intellect entirely at the lotus feet of the Lord, wishing for it to remain eternally wedded to Him in unwavering devotion.

Shree Krishna accepted the offering with grace, and Bhishma departed in peace. Celestial beings paid homage to the noble warrior-saint and the heavens echoed with reverence for his final act of surrender. Krishna, having fulfilled his role in this divine leela, returned to Dwarka.

Life, Legacy, and the March of Fate

Meanwhile, Uttara gave birth to Parikshit—the grandson of the Pandavas—who instinctively sought the divine presence of Krishna he had perceived while he was in his mother’s womb. He was born to become the listener of the Bhagavatam, yet the tale of how he becomes its listener is yet to be uncovered.

After Shree Krishna left for Dwarka, Yudhishthir ascended the throne of Hastinapur. True to his noble nature, he offered Dhritarashtra a dignified life within the palace, despite the torment Dhritarashtra’s sons had caused him. Vidur, who had left Hastinapur before the war, returned briefly and observed Dhritarashtra’s deep attachment to the world. With piercing honesty, he spoke of its illusions, reminding him of the eternal truth. That very night, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari quietly departed for the forest, accompanied by Vidur, embracing the spiritual path.

Dhritarashtra, an elevated soul from past lives, immersed himself in sadhana and attained samadhi. A fiery serpent emerged from his body, consuming it and marking his departure from the mortal realm. Gandhari, devoted to her husband, entered the fire that arose from his body, performing sati. With their departure, Vidur resumed his pilgrimage.

Under Yudhishthir’s reign, Hastinapur flourished, a kingdom of peace and righteousness. Years passed, and Parikshit grew into a wise and spirited fifteen-year-old. Around this time, Arjun set out to visit Shree Krishna in Dwarka once more. Yet, as time moved on, Yudhishthir began noticing troubling omens across his kingdom of Hastinapur. Clouds gathered but brought no rain. Donkeys brayed at dawn, horses neighed restlessly, and cows ceased to yield milk. A sense of calamity weighed on him. 

Soon, Arjun returned. His gait was heavy, his face pale, and his eyes downcast. Alarmed, Yudhishthir asked, “My dear brother, what has happened? Why do you look so stricken? How are Vasudev, Devaki, Ugrasen, and our beloved Krishna Chandra?” Arjun’s voice trembled. “They have all departed—and so has Shree Krishna. The Lord whose presence empowered my gandiv now walks no longer upon this earth. Since His departure, even my weapons have lost their strength. I was overpowered by mere thieves.”

Hearing this heart-wrenching news, Yudhishthir was stunned. Mother Kunti, overwhelmed by the Lord’s departure, quietly left her body. Bhimsen spoke gravely of the rising unrest and the gradual fading of Dharma across the land. The Pandavas realized that the era of righteousness had ended; Kaliyug had begun. Yudhishthir, crowned Parikshit king of Hastinapur, entrusting the future to the next generation. Then, with his brothers and Draupadi, he renounced worldly life and began the sacred journey of Swarga Arohan—the ascent to heaven.

Dawn of Kaliyug

King Parikshit ruled righteously, upholding the noble legacy of the Pandavas. However, one day, while inspecting his kingdom, he came upon a sorrowful sight—a bull limping painfully on a single leg, with a cow beside it weeping in distress. Parikshit soon realized that the bull was Dharma personified. In the age of Truth, Dharma had stood firmly on four legs—Satya (truthfulness), Daya (compassion), Tapasya (austerity), and Shuchi (cleanliness). Now, three legs were broken, leaving Dharma standing precariously on just one. The cow, Bhumi Devi, personifying the Earth, wept for the suffering of all beings.

As the bull tried to console the cow, a cruel-looking man suddenly appeared, brandishing a stick. Without hesitation, he struck the bull’s remaining leg. Horrified, Parikshit exclaimed at the atrocity and seized the man. “Who are you, to commit such a crime in my kingdom?” he demanded. The man replied, “I am Kali, the spirit of Kaliyug—the age of darkness, discord, and deceit. By divine law, the four ages follow one another: Satya, Treta, Dvapar, and now Kaliyug. My time has come, and I must exert my influence upon the earth.”

Recognizing this as God’s Will, Parikshit then firmly declared, “You shall not roam freely in my kingdom. I banish you to four places—where irreligion thrives: to houses of prostitution, where cleanliness is lost; gambling dens, where truth is destroyed; slaughterhouses, where compassion dies; and places of intoxication, where austerity perishes.”

Kali protested, “O King, such places are rare in your righteous reign. Grant me one more refuge.” Parikshit reflected and replied, “Very well. You may dwell wherever gold is found—for greed and corruption will shelter you.” Thus, Kali gained a foothold in the world through wealth and material attachment. Satisfied, he departed—but over time, Parikshit gradually forgot the danger of that concession. The seed of Kaliyug had been sown, and its shadow was destined to grow.

Curse of Parikshit

One day, as King Parikshit prepared to leave his palace, he adorned his head with a gold crown. Unknowingly, this act opened a subtle doorway for Kali to exert his influence—for if the king could be corrupted, so could the kingdom.

While wandering the forest, Parikshit grew weary and thirsty. In search of water, he came upon Sage Shamik Rishi, absorbed in meditation. Parikshit humbly asked, “O revered sage, could you give me a drink of water?” But the sage, lost in contemplation, did not respond. Feeling slighted, the king, in a moment of weakness, picked up a dead snake, placed it around the sage’s neck as a garland, and walked away.

Shamik Rishi’s young son, Shringi, had gone to a nearby river to bathe. Possessing spiritual insight, he sensed what had transpired. Enraged at the insult, Shringi pronounced a curse: “Seven days from now, the most venomous serpent, Takshak, shall bite King Parikshit and cause his death.” When Shamik Rishi emerged from his meditation and learned of the incident, he was deeply saddened. The sage said, “My son, you have erred. Parikshit is a noble king. Even if he acted wrongly, forgiveness would have been wiser than fury. He is unaware of the curse. At least go and inform him.” Shringi obeyed.

Upon learning of the curse, Parikshit remained calm, undisturbed by fear, and embraced its inevitability. “So be it,” he said. “If my time has come, I shall use these seven days wisely. My worldly duties are done; now a higher calling awaits.”  Renouncing his kingdom and comforts, he walked into the forest. On the holy banks of the Ganga, he sat down to fast and meditate, seeking spiritual realization before death. News spread swiftly and great sages from across the universe—Atri, Ved Vyas, Shakti, Parashar, Vashisth, Pulastya, Pulaha—arrived drawn by the king’s extraordinary renunciation. They said, “O noble king, we have heard of your curse.”

Parikshit folded his hands and said, “I once saw this as a curse, but now I see it as a blessing. It has brought me the good fortune of your sublime company. I have many spiritual questions. I humbly request one of you to take the seat of Vyas and enlighten me.” All waited silently. And soon arrived the one qualified to speak—the radiant sixteen-year-old sage, Shukadev Maharaj, son of Ved Vyas.

Resources

●        The Curse of Parikshit - How Kaliyuga Started - Srimad Bhagavatam Part 4

●        Srimad Bhagavatam [Bhagwat Katha] Part 8 - Swami Mukundananda - Bhishma's Lecture on Dharma

Srimad Bhagavatam [Bhagwat Katha] Part 9 - Swami Mukundananda - Where does Kaliyuga reside?