The Supreme Lord, Adhokshaja, had come among men, yet the learned brāhmaṇas, bound by limited understanding and seeing themselves and Him as mere mortals, failed to recognize His true nature. To their eyes, Krishna appeared simply as a human youth. When the cowherds approached these brāhmaṇas, hoping to receive food for Krishna and Balarāma, the brāhmaṇas neither agreed to give anything to the Yadus nor outright refused. Disappointed, the cowherds returned to Krishna and Balarāma and recounted all that had happened. On hearing this, Krishna, the Lord and Master of the universe, laughed gently and offered the cowherds a new course of action, one suited to the ways of the world. He instructed them, “Go to the wives of the brāhmaṇas. Tell them that Sankarshana and I have come. They are affectionate and devoted to Me in thought; surely, they will gladly give you food.” Following Krishna’s words, the cowherds went to the homes of the brāhmaṇas’ wives. There, they found the women seated, beautifully adorned. With deep respect, the cowherds bowed and spoke, “O noble wives of the brāhmaṇas, salutations to you. Please listen: not far from here, Krishna has come, tending the cows with us. He is hungry, and we have been sent by Him. Please give Him and His companions some food.” As soon as the women heard that Achyuta had arrived, their hearts leapt with joy. Their minds, always absorbed in His stories, overflowed with excitement. Without hesitation, they gathered four kinds of excellent food in vessels, and, like rivers rushing to the ocean, hurried to their beloved Krishna. Though their husbands, brothers, relatives, and sons forbade them from going, the women’s minds were fixed unwaveringly on the Lord of excellent fame. Sustained by the teachings they had long cherished, they pressed on, abandoning all hesitation. In a grove on the Yamunā, adorned with fresh asoka shoots, the women beheld Krishna. He stood surrounded by the cowherds and His elder brother Balarāma, wandering gracefully among them. Krishna’s complexion was dark as a raincloud, His garments golden, and He was adorned with garlands of forest flowers and peacock feathers. He wore the attire of a dancer, a lotus resting on His shoulder, a lily in His ear, and His locks softly framing His radiant cheeks. His face blossomed with a gentle, enchanting smile. The women, their minds immersed in the Lord whose stories delighted them, gazed upon Him with love. Through their eyes, they embraced Him deeply in their hearts, and, O King, as wise souls, they let go of all their sorrows just as they wished. Having abandoned all other hopes, they came, longing to behold their very Self. Krishna, the Seer of all, knew the hearts of these noble women. With a smiling face, He greeted them, “Welcome, O highly fortunate ones! Please be seated. What can I do for you? It is only fitting that you have come here, desiring to see us.” He continued, “Those who are truly wise and seek their own good offer to Me, who am dearer than their very selves, devotion that is causeless and unbroken. Life, intellect, mind, self, wives, children, wealth, and all else become dear only through contact with Me; therefore, who else could truly be dear? Now, return to the sacrificial altar, O wives of the twice-born! Your husbands, as householders, will complete their sacrifice with your participation.” But the wives replied, “Do not speak so harshly, O Lord! Fulfill the promise of Your scripture at Your feet. We have left 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—no one 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.” Krishna, the Blessed Lord, reassured them, “Let not your husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, or others bear resentment. Even the worlds, the gods, and all beings honor you, for now you are connected with Me. Physical association in this world is not for love or affection; by fixing your minds on Me, you will soon attain Me.” Thus instructed, the wives of the brāhmaṇas returned to the sacrificial enclosure. Their husbands, now free of envy, welcomed them and completed the sacrifice with their own wives. There was one woman, however, who had been forcibly restrained by her husband. She embraced the Lord in her heart as she had heard, and, giving up the body bound by karma, she attained liberation. Lord Govinda then took that very food and, in fourfold ways, fed the cowherds. He Himself also partook of the meal. In this way, the Lord, assuming a human form for His divine play, delighted the cows, the cowherds, and the cowherd women with His beauty, His words, and His deeds. Meanwhile, recalling the request made to the Lords of the universe by their wives, the brāhmaṇas repented deeply for their offense—having mocked the Lord, not recognizing Him in His human guise. Witnessing the extraordinary devotion of their wives to Krishna, and recognizing their own lack of such devotion, they became remorseful and blamed themselves. They lamented, “Fie upon our birth, our threefold knowledge, our vows, our great learning, our lineage, and our ritual expertise—if we are turned away from the Lord beyond sense perception. Surely, the Lord’s māyā is deluding, even for yogis; for we, the teachers of men, are bewildered about our own true welfare, O brāhmaṇas. Behold the steadfastness of these women, who, even for Krishna, the teacher of the world, broke the bonds of death called ‘home.’ “These women had no initiation as twice-born, no residence with a teacher, no austerity, no self-inquiry, no purity, and no auspicious rituals. Still, even though we possess refinement and other virtues, our devotion to Krishna, the Lord of the most exalted, the master of all yogis, is not firm. Indeed, though we were deluded about our true welfare and distracted by household life, He reminded us of the path of righteousness through the words of the cowherd women. “Otherwise, what need would we, who are subject to His command, have for boons like liberation or anything else, from Him who is the Lord of all blessings and whose desires are already fulfilled? This is only a display of His play. Lakshmi herself, seeking only the touch of His feet, abandons all others and worships Him even once; her request for liberation from her own faults is merely a deluding charm for people. “Place, time, distinct objects, mantras, rituals, priests, fires, deities, the sacrificer, the sacrifice, and dharma—all these are composed of Him. He, this very Lord, Vishnu, the master of all yogis, has appeared among the Yadus—we have heard so, yet, being deluded, we do not truly know Him. Ah, how blessed we are, for among us are such women whose unwavering devotion to Hari has arisen in their hearts. “Obeisance to You, O Lord Krishna, of unfailing wisdom; deluded by Your māyā, our minds wander along the paths of karma.” Thus, the Lord’s compassion and the steadfast devotion of the brāhmaṇas’ wives shone forth, while the brāhmaṇas themselves, humbled and awakened, praised Krishna, the Supreme Lord, whose play both conceals and reveals the highest truth.