Those whose hearts are consumed by lust, pity, and greed, who chase after the flowers of fleeting pleasures rather than the true fruit of spiritual fulfillment, are like moths drawn to a blazing fire. They do not recognize their own real world, lost as they are in illusions. Such people, my dear, do not know Me—the indwelling Self from whom this entire world arises. Just as those unsatisfied by hymns and rituals wander blindly like people whose vision is blocked by fog, so too do they remain ignorant of My presence. Without grasping My deeper intention, those who are devoted to sense objects and become attached to violence are not even eligible for sacrifice. The cruel, seeking their own pleasure, perform rituals to gods, ancestors, and spirits, using animals obtained by violence. Like merchants abandoning real wealth for mere dreams, they imagine blessings in a world that is as insubstantial and pleasing to hear about as a dream. Those established in the qualities of passion, goodness, or ignorance, and who cherish these qualities, worship Indra and other principal gods, but not Me as I truly am. Having worshipped the gods with sacrifices, they think, "We shall enjoy in heaven," and when that enjoyment ends, they wish to be wealthy and of high birth again on earth. Thus, for those whose minds are distracted by flowery words, who are proud and excessively greedy, even My teachings do not appeal. The Vedas, with their threefold division, discuss Brahman, the self, and the gods; the sages speak indirectly, and I too am fond of indirect speech. The sound-Brahman is exceedingly difficult to comprehend, composed of life-breath, senses, and mind; it is boundless, unfathomable, deep, and as hard to penetrate as the ocean. It is expanded by Me, the Infinite, by Brahman of endless power; among beings, it is perceived in the form of sound, like the thread within a lotus stalk. Just as a spider emits its web from its heart through its mouth, so too does the life-breath, endowed with sound, arise from space, taking the form of touch through the mind. The Lord is made of meters and immortality, possessing a thousand paths; from Om, adorned with consonants, vowels, sibilants, and resonant sounds, He is established within. He creates and withdraws, by Himself, the great and endless speech, spread out in various languages, with meters increasing by four syllables each. Gāyatrī, Uṣṇik, Anuṣṭup, Bṛhatī, Paṅkti, Triṣṭubh, Jagatī, Aticchandas, Atyaṣṭi, Atijagat, and Virāṭ—these are the meters. But what does it establish, declare, imply, or distinguish? In this world, no one but Me knows its heart. It establishes Me, denotes Me, distinguishes and negates Me; thus, the entire meaning of the Vedas, relying on sound, differentiates Me, and, having recited only illusion, finally negates it and becomes gracious. In the same way, it is surrounded by deer, boars, wild dogs, oxen, buffalo, elephants, cow-tails, monkeys, mongooses, and snakes. Entering that foremost holy place, the chief of kings, along with his sons, saw the sage seated there, with the sacrificial fire burning. He saw the sage shining with his form, long engaged in severe austerity; not too emaciated, for the Lord's affectionate glances and the nectar-like words he had heard had sustained him. He was tall, with eyes like lotus petals, matted-haired, clad in bark garments, appearing unclean as befitted an ascetic, and unadorned. As the king approached the hermitage and bowed before the sage, the sage welcomed him with appropriate hospitality and greetings. The sage, having received the proper offerings and seated the self-restrained king, pleased him, remembering the Lord's command, and spoke with gentle words. “O lord, your wandering is for the protection of the virtuous and the destruction of the wicked; for you are the sustaining power of Hari. You assume the forms and stations of the sun, moon, fire, Indra, wind, Yama, Dharma, and Varuṇa—homage to you, the pure one. When you do not mount your victorious chariot, adorned with jewels and brandishing your fierce bow, you terrify the wicked simply by your presence. Crushing the earth’s circle with the feet of your army, shaking its sphere, and drawing forth the great host, you roam like the radiant sun. At that very time, O King, all the boundaries established by the divisions of varṇa and āśrama, created by the Lord, would surely be broken by bandits. And unrighteousness would arise, fostered by greedy and unrestrained men; if you were to lie down, this world, seized by outlaws, would surely perish. Nevertheless, O hero, I ask you for what purpose you have come here; let us, with honest hearts, act accordingly.” Śuka then continued: In the first month of winter, the young girls of Nanda’s Vraja performed the vow of worshipping Kātyāyanī, eating only simple food. Having bathed in the waters of the Kālindī at dawn, when the sun had just risen, they made an image of the goddess from sand on the riverbank and worshipped her, O King. With fragrant garlands, perfumes, offerings, incense, lamps, and various gifts—both great and small—such as sprouts, fruits, and grains, they worshipped her. Chanting this mantra: “O Kātyāyanī, great power, great yoginī, supreme ruler, O goddess, make the son of Nanda my husband; I bow to you,” the girls performed their worship. In this way, the maidens, their minds fixed on Kṛṣṇa, observed the vow for a month, worshipping Bhadrakālī, desiring that the son of Nanda become their husband. At dawn, rising with their companions, linking arms with one another, they sang loudly of Kṛṣṇa as they went each day to bathe in the Kālindī. Once, coming to the riverbank, they left their clothes as before, and, singing of Kṛṣṇa, they joyfully played in the water. The Lord Kṛṣṇa, master of all yogis, understanding their intention, came there surrounded by his friends to fulfill their desire. Quickly taking their garments, he climbed a kadamba tree, and, laughing with the boys, he spoke to them in jest: “Come here, girls, and each of you take back your own garment as you wish; I speak the truth, not merely in jest, if you are truly wearied by your vow.