Let me share with you the unfolding tale, as told in the sacred verses. The wise declared: True poverty lies not in lack of wealth, but in discontent. The pitiable are not those without possessions, but those who have not mastered their senses. One whose mind remains unattached to the fleeting qualities of the world is a true lord; while attachment binds one in the opposite way. O Uddhava, your questions have been answered fully. Why continue to elaborate on the nature of virtue and fault? To see faults within virtues is itself a fault; true virtue is that which transcends both, remaining pure. Meanwhile, Śuka narrated how the cowherds recounted to the women of Vraja the wondrous deeds of Kṛṣṇa and Rāma—how they extinguished the raging forest fire and slew the mighty Pralamba. Hearing these marvels, the elder cowherds and women, astonished, regarded Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, who had come to their midst, as foremost among the gods. As these events unfolded, the rainy season began. All living beings stirred, and the horizon glowed with light, the sky and earth resounding with thunder. The heavens, dense with dark clouds streaked by lightning and roaring with thunder, shone dimly, veiled as Brahman is by its qualities. When the appointed time arrived, the clouds released the water they had gathered from the earth over eight months, pouring it down by their own power. Great clouds, accompanied by flashes of lightning and shaken by fierce winds, poured forth life-giving rain, like compassion descending upon the world. The earth, parched and scorched by the sun, was drenched and revived by the rain, just as a body worn by austerity is restored upon attaining its desired fruit. At the onset of night, only fireflies shone in the darkness; the planets were hidden, just as in the Kali age, the Vedas do not shine among heretics because of sin. Hearing the thunder of the clouds, the frogs, long silent, began to croak—like brāhmaṇas reciting again after completing their vows. Small rivers, dried up and wandering from their courses, began to flow anew, just as the wealth and bodily strength of an independent man return. The earth became green with grass and red with indragopa insects, shaded by mushrooms—a sign of fortune for men. The fields, rich with crops, brought joy to the farmers, but regret to the proud who do not understand that all hinges on fate. All creatures, both on land and in water, refreshed by the new rains, took on a lovely appearance, just as those who serve Hari become radiant. The rivers, joined by many streams, swelled and surged with waves driven by the wind—like the mind of an immature yogi, agitated by passion and qualities. The mountains, struck by torrents of rain, stood unmoved, just as those whose minds are fixed upon the Supreme remain steadfast in calamities. The paths became uncertain, overgrown and unmarked, like the Vedas neglected by brahmins and obscured by quarrel. The bonds among people were as fleeting as lightning among clouds, and the constancy of women toward men—even those endowed with virtues—did not remain. The rainbow appeared in the sky, seemingly possessing qualities though it was without them; in the same way, when qualities are manifest, a person without qualities appears to possess them. The moon, veiled by clouds radiant with its own light, did not shine forth, just as a person blinded by ego does not shine by his true brilliance. The peacocks, delighted by the arrival of clouds, rejoiced; yet in their homes, scorched and disheartened, they waited for the coming of the Lord, just as His devotees await Him. The trees, drinking water through their roots, regained their forms, having been withered and exhausted by austerity, just as one becomes weary in pursuit of desires. The cranes settled in the tranquil waters of lakes and reservoirs, just as people with vain hopes dwell in households filled with restless duties. The embankments were broken by torrents of water sent by the lord of rain, just as the paths of the Vedas are broken in the age of Kali by the false words of heretics. Clouds, driven by the winds, released water as nectar for living beings, just as the lords of wealth, urged by the twice-born, give blessings at the proper times. In this season, Hari, accompanied by his companions and surrounded by cows and cowherds, entered the forest, abundant with ripe dates and jambu trees, to enjoy its beauty. The cows, moving slowly under the heavy weight of their udders, came quickly when called by the Lord, their udders moist with affection. The forest dwellers joyfully saw rows of trees dripping with honey, and the caves near the mountains resounded with the sound of falling water. Sometimes, when rain fell in the hollows of trees or in caves, the Lord entered and delighted there, eating roots, tubers, and fruits. With Sankarshana and the cowherds, he ate curds and rice brought for them, sitting on a stone near the water, sharing the meal with his companions. Seated on the grass as they grazed, their eyes closed in contentment, the bulls, calves, and cows, weary from the weight of their udders, were satisfied. Beholding the glory of the rainy season, which brought joy to all beings and was enhanced by his own power, the Lord worshipped it. Thus, as Rama and Keshava dwelt in Vraja, the autumn arrived, with clear skies, pure waters, and gentle winds. In autumn, with the blooming of lotuses, the waters returned to their natural state, just as the minds of those fallen are restored through the practice of yoga. Autumn removed the clouds from the sky, impurity from the earth, and filth from the waters, just as devotion to Krishna removes impurity from ascetics. Having abandoned all their possessions, they shone with pure radiance, just as sages who have renounced all desires become peaceful and freed from sin. The mountains released their waters, but sometimes withheld what was auspicious, just as the wise give the nectar of knowledge at the proper time, or sometimes do not. The creatures living in deep waters did not perceive the diminishing water, just as foolish householders do not notice their lifespan decreasing day by day. The creatures dwelling in deep waters did not feel the heat caused by the autumn sun, just as a poor, pitiable householder with uncontrolled senses does not perceive suffering. Thus, the Lord’s presence and the changing seasons revealed the deeper truths of the world, nature, and the soul.