Yudhishthira, filled with concern and longing for his kinsmen, began to inquire about the well-being of those dearest to him. He asked after Pradyumna, the illustrious chariot-warrior among the Vrishnis, and Aniruddha, whose passions were deep and whose blessings were growing. He wondered about Sushena, Charudesha, Samba—the son of Jambavati—and the other foremost Karsnis, along with their sons like Rishabha, hoping they were all well. His thoughts extended to the followers of Shauri: Shrutadeva, Uddhava, Sunanda, Nanda, Shirishanya, and the other chief Satvatas. He prayed for their welfare too. Yudhishthira’s heart was anxious for all those who relied on the mighty protection of Rama and Krishna, questioning whether they were safe and if those bound by friendship still remembered the Pandavas’ welfare. He then asked after Govinda, the Lord himself, who was always devoted to the Brahmanas and affectionate toward his devotees. Was Krishna living happily in the city of Sudharma, surrounded by friends? For the sake of the world’s safety and prosperity, did the primeval, infinite friend remain among the Yadus, like a vast ocean of blessings? Yudhishthira reflected on how the Yadus, protected by their own strength and honored in their city, lived in supreme bliss, playing like great heroes. He remembered how Satyā and the other sixteen thousand women, having surpassed even the celestial goddesses in beauty, served at Krishna’s feet, receiving blessings fit for the beloveds of Indra, the thunderbolt-wielder. He recalled the fearless Yadus, who, with their many strong arms, would stride into the Sudharmā assembly hall, a place worthy of the gods, which they had brought to their city. Turning to his brother, Yudhishthira asked tenderly if he remained free from illness, for he noticed Arjuna’s radiance had faded. Had he failed to obtain something, been disrespected, or stayed away too long? He wondered if Arjuna had been disturbed by inauspicious omens or if he had failed to fulfill a promise to those in need. Had he ever denied refuge to a Brahmin, a child, a cow, an elder, the sick, a woman, or any being seeking shelter? Had he ever approached a woman improperly or acted in a way that was disgraceful or beyond his capacity? Had he eaten food meant to be shared with elders and children? With deep affection, Yudhishthira asked if Arjuna felt empty and deprived by his own kin, or if something else troubled him—for if not, there should be no sorrow. He then recalled how, when Krishna’s friends welcomed him, they had said, “Welcome! Not one of us has eaten a morsel. Come, please eat with us.” Krishna, smiling, sat and ate with the children, showing them the skin of the python he had slain. Then, turning back from the forest, he returned to the village. Adorned with peacock feathers, flowers, and fresh minerals, Krishna entered the cowherd settlement, accompanied by the festival of flute and horn, the praise of calves, songs of his holy fame, and the loving glances of the gopīs. The children sang in the village, “Today, by the son of Yaśodā and Nanda, the great serpent was slain and we are protected!” King Parikshit 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 for their own offspring?” Śuka replied, “O King, for all beings, the self alone is most dear; others, such as children and wealth, are dear only because of that self. Attachment for one’s own self is strongest among embodied beings; sons, wealth, and homes are not as dear, for they depend on possessiveness. Even among those who identify the body as the self, the body is not as dear as those who follow it. If the body is regarded as possessing ‘mine-ness,’ still it is not as dear as the self, for even as 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. “Know Krishna to be this very self, the self of all selves; for the welfare of the world, he too appears here in an embodied form, by his own illusion. In truth, for those who know, Krishna alone is the abiding and moving reality in this world; the entire form of the Lord—there is nothing else at all. “The essential meaning of all things is established in being; and for Lord Krishna, how could anything not of that nature be considered real? Those who have taken shelter of the tender feet of Murari, whose fame is pure and great, for them the ocean of worldly existence becomes as small as a calf’s hoofprint; they attain that supreme destination, untouched by misfortune. “All this I have told you, as you asked, about what Hari did in his childhood and what is renowned from his boyhood. This conduct of Murari with his friends—destroying evil, playing in the meadows, his manifest and unmanifest forms, and his fulfillment of the earth’s desires—hearing and praising this, a person attains all purposes. Thus, with such childhood pastimes—hiding, building bridges, leaping like monkeys, and the like—they passed their boyhood in Vraja.” Sūta continued, “Thus, Krishna’s dear friend, Arjuna, was left without choice by his royal brother, whose mind was troubled by many doubts and tormented by separation from Krishna. Arjuna’s face and heart’s lotus withered with grief, his radiance gone; meditating only on that Lord, he was unable to speak. With great effort, he restrained his sorrow, wiping his eyes with his hand, overwhelmed by longing for the Lord’s absence. “Recalling their friendship, intimacy, and affection—his service as charioteer and so on—he addressed the king, his elder brother, with a voice choked by tears. “Arjuna said: ‘I have been deceived, O great king, by Hari, who appeared as my kinsman. By him, my power, which astonished even the gods, has been taken away. By separation from him, even for a moment, the world appears joyless; deprived of his praise, I am as if dead, so it is said. By taking refuge in him, I entered the house of Drupada at the svayamvara, where proud kings were assembled; by his power, I defeated them, won the contest, and gained Krishna as my wife. In his presence, I gave the Khāṇḍava forest to Agni, and, having conquered Indra and his hosts by force, I obtained the wondrous assembly hall built by Maya; and the kings brought tribute from all directions to your sacrifice.