As a kindled fire, fed with more fuel, blazes up again with redoubled strength, so desire is never satisfied by the gaining of its object, but gathers strength like an unlit fire when clarified butter is poured upon it. Consider all this abundant store of enjoyments that King Dhritarashtra possesses, and compare it with what we have. He who is unfortunate never wins victories. He who is wretched takes no delight in the sound of music. The wretched man delights not in garlands and perfumes, nor can the wretched enjoy cool and fragrant unguents, and, finally, the wretched wear no fine garments. Were it not so, we would never have been driven out from among the Kurus. And yet, though all this is true, none should nurse the torments of the heart. A king who has himself fallen upon evil times, yet seeks protection in the might of others, acts unwisely. Still, let him receive from others the same conduct that he shows toward them. A man who kindles a blazing fire at midday in the spring season, in dense undergrowth, must surely, once that fire has been fanned by the wind, lament his fate if he wishes to save himself.