Pandu having been suited as a warrior, to the art of hunting, had through the course of destiny, chanced upon none other than the Sage Kindama, wh o having felt his sensual urges rising, escaped from the association of the Sages, and in the form of a stag, had been mating with a fellow doe. The sage, having been shot, due to his sexual urges not being satiated yet, found himself powerless to his anger; would see to Pandu being the whole recipient of his anger. Pandu was defensive, he did not accept blame, for hunting is what he had always done.

Though citing several scriptural ordinances to the deer, nothing could convince or pacify him. A curse of great consequence was then laid upon the King; a curse without which, Pandu may have directly bore children upon his two beautiful wives. 

A Sage not having the ability to bear children, was of far less consequence than the same being placed on a personality who was for all intents and purposes still the Sire of Hastinapura. 

In one fell swoop, direct progeny of Pandu, became an impossibility. Pandu in just a few, but most significant moments, had had his entire life trajectory changed, and felt devastated.

After the death of that deer, king Pandu with his wives was deeply afflicted and wept bitterly, and exclaimed, 'The wicked, even if born in virtuous families, deluded by their own passions, become overwhelmed with misery as the fruit of their own deeds. 

I have come to hear that my original father, King Vichitravirya, though begotten by Santanu, with our mother Satyavati, also of virtuous soul, had his duration of life reduced, meeting death whilst still he were still but a youth, only because he had become a slave to his lust. In the very soil of that lustful Kuru King, Vichitravirya, my illustrious father Sage Vyasa himself, of truthful speech, begot me. 

A son though I am, with my wicked heart wedded to vice, I am yet leading a wandering life in the woods in the chase of the deer.

Oh, it is clear now that the very gods have forsaken me! I shall seek salvation now. The great impediments to salvation are the desire to beget children, and other concerns of the world.

I shall now adopt the Brahmacharya mode of life and follow in the imperishable wake of my father Vyasa. I shall certainly bring my passions under complete control by severe ascetic penances.

Forsaking my wives and other relatives and shaving my head, alone shall I wander over the earth, begging for my subsistence from each of these trees standing here. Forsaking every object of affection and aversion, and covering my body with dust, I shall make the shelter of trees or deserted houses my home.

I shall never yield to influence of sorrow or joy, and I shall regard slander and eulogy in the same light. I shall not seek benedictions or even more bows.

I shall be at peace with all, and shall not accept gifts.

I shall not mock anybody, nor shall I knit my brows at any one, but shall be ever cheerful and devoted to the good of all creatures.

I shall preserve an equality of behaviour towards all, as if they were, my own children.

One lopping off an arm of mine with a hatchet, and one smearing another arm with sandal-paste, shall be regarded by me equally.

Once a day shall I beg of five or ten families at the most, and if I do not succeed in obtaining alms, I shall then go without food. I shall rather starve myself than beg more than once of the same person. Whether I obtain or fail to obtain alms, I shall be equally unmoved like a great ascetic.

I shall not wish prosperity to one, and misery to the other. I shall not be pleased with life or displeased with death. I shall neither desire to live nor to die. I shall also abstain from all acts of religion and profit and also those that lead to the gratification of the senses. Freed from all sins and snares of the world, I shall be like the wind, subject to none. Following the path of fearlessness and bearing myself in this way I shall at last lay down my life.

Destitute of the power of begetting children, firmly adhering to only the line of duty I shall not certainly deviate therefrom in order to tread in the vile path of the world that is so full of misery.

Whether respected or disrespected in the world that man who from covetousness casteth upon others a begging look, certainly behaveth no different from a dog.

Destitute as I am now, of the power of procreation, I should certainly not, from desire of offspring, solicit any other to give me children.'

The King, Pandu, having thus wept in sorrow, with a sigh, looked at his two wives Kunti and Madri, and addressing them he said:

'Let the princess of Kosala, my mother Ambalika, Vidura, the King Dhritrashtra, with our friends, my venerable grandmother Satyavati, Bhishma, the priests and illustrious Brahmanas, and all elderly citizens that depend on us, be informed, after being prepared for it, that Pandu hath for once and for all, retired into the woods in pursuit of solitary asceticism, not to be seen again.'

Hearing these words of their lord who had set his heart on a life of asceticism in the woods, both Kunti and Madri addressed him in these proper words:

'O bull of Bharata's race, there are many other modes of life which thou canst adopt and in which thou canst undergo the severest penances along with us, thy wedded wives, in which thou mayest also attain to the heavens.

We also, in the company of you, our lord, and for your benefit, controlling our passions and bidding adieu to all luxuries, shall subject ourselves to the severest austerities.

O king, O thou of great wisdom, but if thou abandonest us, we shall then this very day depart from this world.'

Pandu replied:

'If, indeed, this your resolve springeth from virtue, then with you both I shall follow the imperishable path of my fathers.

Abandoning the luxuries of cities and towns, clad in barks of trees, and living on fruits and roots, I shall wander in deep woods, practising the severest penances.

I shall reduce my body by eating sparingly, and shall wear rags and skins and knotted locks on my head.

I shall live in solitude and I shall give myself up to contemplation.'

The Kuru king, having said this unto his wives, gave away to Brahmanas the big jewel in his diadem, his necklace of precious gold, his bracelets, his large ear-rings, his valuable robes and all the ornaments of his wives.

Then summoning his attendants, he commended them, saying:

'Return ye to Hastinapura and proclaim unto all that Pandu with his wives hath gone into the woods, foregoing wealth, desire, happiness, and even sexual appetite.'

Then those followers and attendants, who held Pandu so close to their hearts, hearing these and other soft and pacifying words of the king, set up a loud wail, uttering:

'Oh, alas, we are undone!'

With hot tears trickling down their cheeks they left the monarch and returned to Hastinapura with speed carrying that wealth with them, that was on the order of the great Pandu, to be distributed in charity.

Then Dhritarashtra, that first of men, hearing from them everything that had happened in the woods, wept for his dear brother Pandu.

The new King Dhritrashtra brooded over his affliction continually, little relishing the comfort of beds, seats and lavish dishes.

Meanwhile, the Kuru prince Pandu, after sending away his attendants, accompanied by his two wives and eating fruits and roots went to the mountains of Nagasata.

He next went to Chaitraratha, and then crossed the Kalakuta, and finally, crossing the Himavat, he arrived at the great Gandhamadana mountain ranges.

Under the protection of Mahabhutas, Siddhas, and great Sages, Pandu lived, O king, sometimes on level ground and sometimes on mountain slopes. He then journeyed on to the lake of King Indradyumna, whence crossing the mountains of Hansakuta, he went to the mountain of hundred peaks, known as Sata-sringa, and there continued to practise ascetic austerities.

Pandu, possessed of great energy, then devoted himself to asceticism. Within a short time he became the favourite of the whole body of the Siddhas and Charanas residing there.

Devoted to the service of his various spiritual masters, free from vanity, with mind under complete control and the passions fully subdued, the prince, becoming competent to enter heaven by his own energy, attained to great ascetic prowess. Some of the Sages would call Pandu brother, some friend, while others cherished him as their son. And, O bull of Bharata's race, having acquired after a long time great ascetic merit coupled with complete singleness of mind, Pandu though such a prolific Kshatriya, arguably one of the most powerful in his line, became even like a Brahmarshi, an elevated Sage.

On a certain day of the new moon, the great Sages of rigid vows assembled together, and desirous of beholding Brahman were on the point of starting on their expedition. Seeing them about to start, Pandu asked those ascetics, saying:

'Ye first of eloquent men, where shall we go?'

The Rishis answered:

'There will be a great gathering today, in the abode of Brahman, of celestials, Rishis and Pitris. Desirous of beholding the Self-create we shall go there today.'

Hearing this, Pandu rose up suddenly, desirous of visiting heaven along with the great Rishis. Accompanied by his two wives, when he was on the point of following the Rishis in the northerly direction from the mountain of hundred peaks, those ascetics addressed him saying:

'In our northward march, while gradually ascending the king of mountains, we have seen on its delightful breast many regions inaccessible to ordinary mortals; retreats also of the gods, and Gandharvas and Apsaras, with palatial mansions by hundreds clustering thick around and resounding with the sweet notes of celestial music, the gardens of Kuvera laid out on even and uneven grounds, banks of mighty rivers, and deep caverns. There are many regions also on those heights that are covered with perpetual snow and are utterly destitute of vegetable and animal existence. In some places the downpour of rain is so heavy that they are perfectly inaccessible and incapable of being utilised for habitation. Not to speak of other animals, even winged creatures cannot cross them. The only thing that can go there is air, and the only beings, Siddhas and great Sages. How shall these princesses ascend those heights of the king of mountains? Unaccustomed to pain, shall they not droop in affliction? Therefore, come not with us, O bull of Bharata's race!'

Pandu replied:

“Ye fortunate ones, it is said that for the sonless there is no admittance into heaven. I am sonless! Thus in affliction I speak unto you! I have not been able to discharge the debt I owe to my ancestors.

Men are born on this earth with four kinds of debts:

1. Firstly those due unto the ancestors, paid for by begetting children and offering the funeral cake

2. Second, is that debt owed to the gods, paid for through sacrifices

3. Thirdly, that debt owed to the Sages, paid for in the currency of study and meditation, and finally;

4. That debt owed to other men, which is paid for through leading a life of humanity that is from from offensives.

And so I have paid all debts, saving those to my ancestors. The best of men are born in this world to beget children for discharging that debt. I would ask you, should children be begotten in my soil (upon my wives) as I myself was begotten in the soil of my father by the eminent Rishi?'

The Sages with a deep mystical sense of conviction, stood together and spoke thus:

'O dear Pandu, thou of virtuous soul, we have seen it with our prophetic eyes.

Thou thoust does not know it yet, there awaits progeny for thou. And that progeny of thine, is sinless and most blest with fortune, accomplished, and agreeable; they too are like unto the very gods.

Therefore, O tiger among men, accomplish by your own, acts which destiny pointeth at.

Men of intelligence, acting with deliberation, always obtain good fruits.

It behoveth thee, therefore, O king, to exert thyself; the fruits thou wouldst obtain are distinctly visible to us.'

Hearing these words of the ascetics, Pandu, remembering the loss of his procreative powers owing to the curse of the deer, began to reflect deeply on the words of the Sages; what could they mean? By what means would Pandu be able to bring into this world progeny of his own? That too without sexual contact with his beautiful wives? Had the sages spoken in riddles? His wives were his own, and therefore would their children necessarily involve impregnating by him? Would these great children have as their Father, a proxy? Pandu felt excited by the need to explore the matter further.