Is Govinda, the Lord who is ever devoted to the Brahmanas and affectionate to his devotees, living happily in the city of Sudharma, surrounded by his friends? For the welfare, safety, and prosperity of all worlds, does the primeval, infinite friend—the Supreme Person—remain amidst the ocean of the Yadu dynasty? When the Yadus are honored in their own city, protected by the strength of their many powerful arms, they revel in supreme bliss, playing as great heroes. Satyā and the other sixteen thousand women, whose beauty has conquered even the celestial goddesses, serve at the Lord’s feet, which is their chief duty; they receive blessings fit for the beloveds of Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt. The foremost Yadus, fearless at all times and living by the rise of their strong arms, forcibly entered the Sudharmā assembly hall—an abode fit for the best of gods—having brought it there with their feet. My dear, are you free from illness? You seem 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—disturbing sounds or other omens? Have you failed to give or fulfill what was promised to those who approached you out of desire? As a giver of refuge, have you ever rejected a Brahmin, child, cow, elder, sick person, woman, or any being who sought shelter from you? Have you approached a woman who should not be approached, or failed to approach one who should, or been defeated by superior or inferior paths? Have you eaten food that should be shared with elders and children, or committed any act that is disgraceful or beyond your capacity? O dearest, do you feel empty and deprived in your heart by your own kin, or do you think otherwise? If not, then there is no sorrow. The friends welcomed Krishna, saying, “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.” The king 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. Know Krishna to be this very self—the self of all selves. For the welfare of the world, he too appears here as embodied, by his own illusion. In truth, for those who know, Krishna alone is the abiding and moving reality here; the entire form of the Lord—there is nothing else at all in this world. The essential meaning of all things is established in being; and for him too, Lord Krishna—how could anything not of that nature be considered real? Those who have taken shelter of the boat 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; that supreme destination is never touched by misfortune at any step. All this has been told to 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 then said: Thus, Krishna’s friend, Arjuna, was left without choice by his royal brother, whose mind was troubled by many doubts and tormented by separation from Krishna. His face and heart’s lotus withered with grief, his radiance gone; meditating only on that Lord, he was unable to speak. With great effort restraining his sorrow, wiping his eyes with his hand, he was overwhelmed by longing from 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 with tears. Arjuna said: “I have been deceived, O great king, by Hari, who appeared as my kinsman; by whom 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. 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. By your power, O king, Bhīma, your noble younger brother, whose strength equaled ten thousand elephants, defeated the lords of the earth for the great sacrifice; and those kings, subdued for the sacrifice, brought tribute to you. At your great sacrifice, your wife, adorned for the royal consecration, was insulted in the assembly by gamblers; her tears fell at your feet, her hair loosened when her protectors were defeated—those women suffered greatly. He who protected us in the forest, when we were afflicted by the severe hardships caused by Durvāsā, when our enemies attacked, and when we, subsisting only on vegetables, had exhausted all means—He, by whose grace the three worlds became satisfied, even as we were surrounded by dangers in the water. By Your power, O Lord, even Śiva, armed with the trident and accompanied by his consort, was astonished in battle and gave up his own weapon to me; and by this very body of mine, I attained a seat of great honor in the palace of Indra.