Both of them, their eyes heavy and unable to open, yawned in weakness, their bodies frail and gray, withered like dry branches. Emaciated by hunger, they drifted again into sleep, helpless as herons. Witnessing their pitiful state, the sage became thoughtful, his mind turning over what should be done. He pondered, “How does such sleep come upon them? How has such old age arisen?” Absorbed in these reflections, Bhārgava began to recall Govinda in his heart. At that very moment, a clear voice resounded from the sky: “O sage, do not be distressed. Your effort will bear fruit—there is no doubt. For this purpose, O best of sages, perform a virtuous deed. The noble ones, adorned with virtue, will declare your action. When that virtuous act is performed, sleep and old age will depart from these two at once, and devotion will spread everywhere.” All present heard the celestial voice. Nārada himself was amazed and exclaimed, “This was not known to me.” He questioned aloud, “Even with this divine speech, the matter remains secret. What is the means, what action must be done, by which their purpose may be fulfilled? Where will these virtuous ones be found, and how will they reveal the means? What must I do here, as spoken by the voice from the sky?” Sūta continued: Having settled the two in that place, the sage Nārada departed, journeying from one holy site to another, seeking out the great sages along his way. The account became known to all, yet after much deliberation, none could answer. Some declared it impossible, others found it too difficult to comprehend; some fell silent, and a few even fled. A great commotion arose throughout the three worlds, filling all with wonder. The Vedas and Vedānta were proclaimed, and the Gītā was recited everywhere. Yet, when the triad of devotion, knowledge, and detachment did not arise, people whispered from ear to ear, “There is no other means.” Even Nārada, the great yogi, could not understand; so how could others among men speak of it? Thus, when questioned by groups of sages, it was determined and declared to be inaccessible. Troubled and concerned, Nārada made his way to the forest of Badarī, resolved to undertake austerity there for this very purpose. It was then he beheld before him the illustrious sages Sanaka and his brothers, shining with the radiance of millions of suns. The foremost among them addressed him. Nārada spoke: “Now, by great fortune, I have met you. O Kumāras, please, out of compassion, speak quickly to me. All of you are yogis, wise and learned, endowed with fivefold restraint, and you are ancestors even to the earliest beings. Ever dwelling in Vaikuntha, you are devoted to singing the praises of Hari, intoxicated by the nectar of his pastimes, living solely for the sake of his stories. For those whose mouths constantly utter the name of Hari as their sole refuge, old age, decreed by time, does not trouble them. Once, by merely a frown from you, the two gatekeepers of Hari instantly fell at your feet; by your compassion, they returned to the city. Ah, by the fortune of yoga, I have gained your sight here; you, full of compassion, ought to show grace to me, who am destitute. “That which was spoken by the bodiless voice—what is the means for it? Please explain in detail how it is to be practiced. How does happiness arise for those endowed with devotion, knowledge, and detachment? How can it be established among all classes, with love and effort?” The Kumāras replied: “Do not be anxious, O divine sage; let your heart be filled with joy. The means, easily accomplished, already exists here. Ah, Nārada, you are blessed, the crest-jewel among the detached, always foremost among the servants of Śrī Krishna, the sun among yogis. It is not surprising in you, who always follow the path of devotion, that the establishment of devotion is ever accomplished for Krishna’s servant. “Many sages in the world have revealed various paths—some difficult, requiring great effort, and most yielding the fruit of heaven. But the path that leads to Vaikuntha is indeed kept secret; its teacher is rarely found, attained mostly by good fortune. The noble act prescribed to you by the voice from the sky—now it will be explained; listen today with steady mind and clear intellect. “Some perform sacrifices with offerings, some with austerity, others with yoga, and some with study and knowledge; these are all known as actions. Among these, the sacrifice of knowledge is certainly regarded by the wise as the mark of noble action—the discourse on the Śrīmad Bhāgavata, sung by Śuka and others. By the proclamation of that, great strength arises for devotion, knowledge, and detachment; the suffering of both will depart, and happiness will come to the devotee. Indeed, at the sound of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata’s path, all these faults of Kali will perish, like wolves at the roar of a lion. Devotion, joined with knowledge and detachment, bringing the flavor of love, will play from house to house, from person to person.” Nārada then asked, “When, despite the proclamations of the Vedas and Vedānta, and the recitation of the Gītā, the triad of devotion, knowledge, and detachment does not arise—how can it be established?” The Kumāras replied, “From the recitation of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata, understanding of that subject will arise; in its narrations, the meaning of the Vedas is present in every verse, in every word.” Nārada humbly appealed, “O you whose vision is unfailing, please cut away this doubt; there should be no delay here, for you are compassionate to those who have taken refuge.” The Kumāras said, “From the essence of the Vedas and Upaniṣads, the Bhāgavata narrative has arisen; therefore, being distinct, it shines as supremely excellent, taking the form of its own unique fruit.