As ominous signs filled the land, Yudhishthira observed the quarters enveloped in smoke, the horizons quivering alongside the mountains, and thunderclaps echoing with flashes of lightning. The wind blew fiercely, scattering dust and darkness everywhere, while dreadful clouds rained blood across the earth. The sun’s brilliance was diminished, planets collided in the heavens, and the sky itself seemed ablaze, crowded with strange, unfamiliar beings. The rivers and streams were restless, the lakes agitated, and even people’s minds unsettled. Fires would not blaze, even when fed with ghee. Yudhishthira wondered anxiously, “What does this time portend?” Calves refused to drink from their mothers' udders, cows withheld their milk, crying with tearful faces, and the bulls showed no joy. Even the deities appeared to weep, sweat, and tremble. The towns, villages, gardens, lakes, and hermitages had lost their splendor and happiness. Yudhishthira pondered, “What misfortune is being revealed to us?” Reflecting on these great omens, he thought, “Surely the earth has been deprived of the feet of the Lord and those unique souls blessed by Him; prosperity has vanished.” While his mind remained troubled by these portents, Arjuna—the one with the monkey-banner—returned from the city of the Yadus. Arjuna, unlike before, fell at Yudhishthira's feet, distressed, his face lowered, tears streaming from his eyes like drops from a lotus. Seeing his brother’s heart weighed down and his appearance changed, Yudhishthira questioned him in the midst of their friends, recalling Narada’s words. He asked, “Are our relatives in Anarta city—the Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Ahukas, Satvatas, Andhakas, and Vrishnis—living happily? Is Shura, our maternal grandfather, well, and his wife also? Is our uncle Anakadundubhi and his younger brothers safe? Are the seven sisters, their husbands, other maternal uncles with their sons, and their daughters-in-law, led by Devaki herself, all well?” He continued, “Is King Ahuka alive, and his wicked son and younger brother? Is Hridika with his son, Akrura, Jayanta, Gada, and Sarana well? Are Shatrujit and others safe? Is Rama, the Lord of the Satvatas, living happily? Is Pradyumna, the great chariot-warrior of all the Vrishnis, well? Is Aniruddha, deep in his passions, growing and blessed? Are Sushena, Charudesha, Samba—the son of Jambavati—and others, the foremost of the Karsnis, with their sons, like Rishabha, well? And likewise, are the followers of Shauri—Shrutadeva, Uddhava, Sunanda, Nanda, Shirishanya, and other chief Satvatas—well?” “Are all those who rely on the arms of Rama and Krishna safe? Do those bound by friendship remember our welfare? Is Govinda, the Lord, devoted to Brahmanas and affectionate to his devotees, living happily in the city of Sudharma, surrounded by friends? For the welfare, safety, and prosperity of the worlds, does the primeval, infinite friend, the man, remain in the ocean of the Yadu dynasty? When the Yadus are honored in their own city, protected by many strong arms, they play in supreme bliss, like great heroes.” He spoke of the women: “By serving at the feet, which is their chief duty, Satyā and the other sixteen thousand women, having surpassed even celestial goddesses in beauty, receive blessings worthy of Indra’s beloveds.” He described the Yadus: “The foremost Yadus, fearless at all times and strong, forcibly entered the Sudharmā assembly hall, fit for the best of gods, with their feet, having brought it there.” Turning to Arjuna, Yudhishthira asked gently, “My dear, do you remain free from illness? You seem to me as if your radiance has faded. Have you failed to obtain something, been disrespected, or stayed away for a long time? Have you been struck by inauspicious things, such as sounds or other disturbances? Have you failed to give or fulfill what was promised to supplicants out of desire? As a giver of refuge, have you ever rejected a Brahmin, child, cow, elder, sick person, woman, or any being who approached you for shelter?” He continued, “Have you not approached a woman who should not be approached, or one who is to be approached, or one who has been made your companion? Or have you been defeated by superior or inferior paths? Have you eaten food that should be shared with elders and children? Have you committed any act that is disgraceful or beyond your capacity? O dearest, do you always feel empty and deprived in your heart by your own kin? Or do you think otherwise? If not, then there is no sorrow.” Meanwhile, the friends said to Krishna, “Welcome to you, who have come so swiftly! Not one has eaten a morsel; come, please eat well.” Then Hṛṣīkeśa, smiling, ate together with the children, showing them the python's skin, and turned back from the forest to the village. Adorned with peacock feathers, flowers, and fresh minerals, rich in the festival of flute and horn, praising the calves, singing holy fame, and with the gopīs' eyes celebrating him, he entered the cowherd settlement. The children sang in the village, “Today, by the son of Yaśodā and Nanda, the great serpent was slain and we are protected from it.” Yudhishthira then asked, “O Brahmin, how did such great love arise for Krishna at his birth, even among those who had never felt it before, even in their own offspring? Please explain.” Śuka replied, “For all beings, O king, the self alone is most dear; others, such as children and wealth, are dear only because of that self. Just as attachment for one's own self is strongest among embodied beings, it is not so for sons, wealth, homes, and other things that depend on possessiveness. Even among those who identify the body as the self, O best of kings, the body is not as dear as those who follow it. If the body is regarded as possessing ‘mine-ness,’ then it is not as dear as the self; for even when the body ages, the hope for life remains strong. Therefore, the dearest is one's own self for all embodied beings; for its sake alone, this entire world, both moving and unmoving, exists.