O Uddhava, listen closely to this truth: Just as the mind’s imagination of sense objects is ultimately false, and as the visions seen in dreams are not real, so too is worldly existence for the true self, O descendant of Dasarha. Even when the objects themselves are absent, the cycle of worldly existence does not end; for one who meditates on sense pleasures, misfortune arises in dreams just as it does in waking life. Therefore, Uddhava, do not indulge in sense objects with unreliable senses. See the confusion that arises from identifying with the self, and recognize the error of illusion. Whether one is cast out, insulted by the wicked, mocked, envied, beaten, restrained, or deprived of livelihood; spat upon, or even urinated upon by the ignorant, or shaken in countless ways—one who truly desires good, even amid such hardship, should uplift oneself by one’s own self. Uddhava, deeply moved, then asked, “How can I truly understand this, O best of speakers? Please explain. For such unbearable transgressions against the self seem exceedingly difficult to bear, even for the wise, O Soul of the Universe, for nature is powerful. Only those devoted to your dharma, peaceful and sheltered at your feet, can withstand such trials.” He continued, “Bṛhaspati, in the doctrine of Brahman, and Hari himself, through self-realization and devotion to cows, teachers, and Brahmins, follow Viṣvaksena. By praise and song, men throughout the three worlds, here and there, enter through the ear-holes of women, just as Rāma does among the virtuous. Through food and offerings, there is favor among the wives of the sacrificers.” At this point, the cowherd boys approached, addressing Rāma and Krishna with urgency: “O Rāma, mighty-armed one, O Krishna, destroyer of the wicked, hunger afflicts us; you ought to relieve it.” Śrī Śuka continued the tale: Thus addressed by the cowherds, the Lord, son of Devakī, kindly spoke for the sake of the devotee, the wife of the Brahmin. “Go to the sacrificial altar where the Brahmins, versed in Brahman, are performing the Angirasa sacrifice, desiring heaven. Go there, cowherds, and ask for cooked rice, sent by us. Mention my name, the noble one, and Rāma’s name.” Following the Lord’s instructions, the cowherds went and, as directed, with folded hands and prostrations, addressed the Brahmins: “O lords of the earth, listen! We have come as those who carry out Krishna’s command. Know that we are cowherds sent by Rāma; may good fortune be yours. O best knowers of dharma, Rama and Achyuta, tending the cows not far from here, are hungry and seeking food from you. If you have faith, please give them the cooked rice they desire. O excellent ones, except during the consecration for the animal sacrifice or the Sautramani rite, even for one who is consecrated, food is not spoiled by eating it.” Yet, though the Brahmins heard this request on behalf of the Lord, they did not listen. Absorbed in their rituals, childish in their pride and petty in their desires, they remained unmoved. They failed to understand that the place, time, materials, mantras, procedures, priests, fires, deities, sacrificer, ritual, and dharma—all are composed of Him. That Supreme Brahman, the Lord Adhokshaja Himself, they did not recognize, seeing Him as a mere mortal due to their lack of discernment. They neither said, “Give it to the Yadus,” nor “Do not give.” Disappointed, the cowherds returned and told Krishna and Rama what had happened. Upon hearing this, the Lord, Master of the universe, laughed and, showing a worldly way, spoke again to the cowherds: “Go and tell the wives, along with Sankarshana and myself having come. They, affectionate and devoted to me in thought, will gladly give you food.” So the cowherds went to the house of the Brahmins’ wives. Finding them seated and adorned, the boys bowed and spoke respectfully: “Salutations to you, O Brahmins’ wives. Please listen to our words. Not far from here, we, sent by Krishna, are tending the cows. He, with Rama and the cowherds, has come a long way. Please give food to him, who is hungry and accompanied by his companions.” Upon hearing that Achyuta had come, the women—always eager to see Him and their minds absorbed in His stories—were filled with excitement. Gathering four kinds of excellent food in vessels, they hurried out to their beloved, as rivers rush toward the ocean. Though forbidden by their husbands, brothers, relatives, and sons, their minds, fixed on the Lord, and sustained by long-heard teachings, they went forth. In a grove on the Yamuna, adorned with fresh asoka shoots, the women saw Him, surrounded by cowherds and His elder brother, wandering there. They beheld Him, dark as a raincloud, clad in golden garments, adorned with forest garlands and peacock feathers, dressed as a dancer, a lotus resting on His shoulder, one hand twirling a lotus, a lily in His ear, locks framing His cheeks, and His face blossoming with a smile. Their minds, immersed in Him whose stories they loved to hear and whose presence delighted their ears, they gazed upon Him, entered Him through their eyes, embraced Him long within, and, as wise ones, let go of their sorrow as they wished. Having abandoned all other hopes, they came, desiring to see their very Self. He, the seer of all, knowing their hearts, spoke to them with a smiling face: “Welcome, O highly fortunate ones! Please be seated. What may I do for you? It is fitting that you have come here, desiring to see us. Indeed, those who are truly wise and seek their own good render to me, who am dear to their very selves, devotion that is causeless and unbroken. Life, intellect, mind, self, wives, children, wealth, and so on—all these become dear through contact with me; therefore, who else could truly be dear?” He continued, “Now go to the sacrificial altar, O wives of the twice-born! Your husbands, householders, will complete their own sacrifice with your participation.” The wives replied, “Do not speak so harshly, O Lord! Fulfill the promise of your scripture at your feet. We have come, leaving behind all relatives, to gather the dust of your feet adorned with tulasi, to place in our hair. Neither our husbands, nor parents, nor children, nor brothers, nor friends, nor anyone else will accept us now. Therefore, O subduer of enemies, for those of us who have fallen at your feet, there is no other refuge—please grant us this.” The Blessed Lord replied with compassion, “Let not your husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, or others bear resentment; even the worlds, the gods, and all beings honor you, for you are now connected with me.