The era of the Dwapara Yuga was drawing to a somber close. The Great Kurukshetra War had long since ended, leaving behind a scarred earth and a dynasty of kings who had witnessed the ultimate destruction of their kin. For thirty-six years, Yudhishthira, the eldest of the Pandavas and the personification of Dharma, ruled Hastinapura with justice and wisdom. However, the world felt increasingly hollow. The news of the death of Lord Krishna, the divine architect of their destiny, hit the Pandavas like a thunderbolt. With Krishna’s departure, the spirit of the age seemed to vanish, and the dark shadow of the Kali Yuga began to lengthen across the land. The brothers—Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva—realized that their time on earth had also come to an end. It was time to embark on the Mahaprasthana, the Great Departure.
Yudhishthira summoned his grandson Parikshit and crowned him the new king of Hastinapura, entrusting the guidance of the kingdom to the elderly Kripacharya and Yuyutsu. The brothers, along with their devoted wife Draupadi, cast off their royal silken robes and donned simple garments made of tree bark and deer skin. They renounced all worldly possessions, leaving behind the palace that had been the site of so much joy and grief. As they walked through the gates of the city, the citizens wept, begging them not to leave, but the Pandavas moved forward with a resolve that was unshakable. They were headed toward the East, toward the rising sun, intending to circle the world before making their final ascent into the icy heights of the Himalayas.
As they began their long trek, a stray dog appeared from the outskirts of the city and began to follow them. It was a humble, silent creature, yet it remained steadfastly at their heels. They traveled through forests, across roaring rivers, and past the ruins of old cities, eventually turning their gaze northward toward the Great Snowy Mountains. The air grew thin and the temperature plummeted as they climbed higher into the Garhwal Himalayas. The landscape was no longer one of green valleys but of jagged stone and eternal ice. This was the path to Swargarohini, the stairway to heaven, where it was said that the physical body could transcend the mortal coil if the soul was pure enough.
The climb was grueling. The brothers, once the greatest warriors in the world, were now aged and weary. The first to succumb to the exhaustion and the biting cold was Draupadi. As she collapsed onto the snow, the brothers stopped in shock. Bhima, his voice trembling with grief, turned to Yudhishthira and asked why such a virtuous woman, who had endured so much, was the first to fall before reaching the holy summit. Yudhishthira, without looking back, his heart heavy but his mind fixed on the divine, replied that her flaw was her partiality. Though she was the wife of all five, she had loved Arjuna more than the others, and that flicker of uneven affection was a chain that bound her to the earth.
They continued their ascent, the wind howling like a wounded beast. Soon, Sahadeva, the youngest and most learned of the brothers, fell. Again, Bhima questioned his brother. Yudhishthira answered that Sahadeva’s fall was due to his intellectual pride; he believed that no one was as wise as he was, and that vanity prevented him from reaching the peak. A short while later, Nakula, the most handsome of the five, fell into the freezing snow. Yudhishthira explained that Nakula’s flaw was his excessive pride in his physical beauty, believing himself to be unparalleled in grace. Each death was a blow to the brothers' morale, but they were bound by the vow of renunciation. They could not stop; they could only move toward the light.
Then came the fall of Arjuna, the hero of the Gandiva bow. To Bhima, it seemed impossible that the greatest archer of all time could fail. Yudhishthira, with tears frozen on his cheeks, explained that Arjuna had once boasted he would destroy all his enemies in a single day—a feat he could not accomplish. His fall was the result of that one boastful lie and the pride he took in his martial prowess. Now, only Bhima and Yudhishthira remained, along with the silent dog. Eventually, the mighty Bhima, known for his incredible strength, began to falter. He fell to his knees and asked why he, who had always been the protector of the family, was being denied entry to heaven. Yudhishthira looked at his brother one last time and said that Bhima’s flaws were gluttony and a disregard for the needs of others when he was hungry, as well as a pride in his physical power that bordered on arrogance.
Yudhishthira was now alone, save for the dog. He did not look back at the bodies of his brothers or his wife. He moved forward with a singular focus on the Dharma. As he reached the final ridge of the Swargarohini massif, the sky split open with a blinding radiance. A celestial chariot, glowing with the light of a thousand suns, descended from the heavens. Indra, the King of the Gods, stood upon the chariot, welcoming Yudhishthira. He invited the King to enter the chariot and ascend to heaven in his mortal body, a privilege never before granted to a human being. However, as Yudhishthira prepared to step onto the chariot, he looked down at the dog that had followed him through every hardship.