The women of Vraja, though they had never undergone initiation as the twice-born, nor lived in the presence of a teacher, nor practiced austerities or self-inquiry, nor observed the strictest purity or auspicious rituals, nevertheless attained a devotion that shone forth in their hearts. In contrast, we—though proud of our refinement, virtues, and knowledge—find our own devotion to Krishna, the Lord of the highest, the master of all yogis, still unsteady and wavering. Lost as we were in the distractions of household life and forgetful of our true welfare, it was Krishna Himself who gently reminded us of the righteous path, using the simple, heartfelt words of the cowherd women to awaken us. Truly, what need have we, who are always under His command, to seek boons such as liberation or any other blessing from Him, the Lord of all blessings, whose desires are forever fulfilled? All such requests are but a part of His divine play. Even Lakshmi, the goddess of fortune, seeks only to touch His feet, abandoning all others to worship Him, even if only once. Her prayers for liberation from her own shortcomings are but a charming illusion for the world. For, in truth, everything—place, time, all objects, mantras, rituals, priests, fires, deities, sacrificer, the sacrifice itself, and dharma—are composed of Him alone. This very Lord, Vishnu, the master of yogis, has appeared among the Yadus, so we have heard; yet, caught in delusion, we do not truly know Him as He is. How fortunate we are, for among us dwell such women whose unwavering devotion to Hari has blossomed in their hearts. We bow to You, O Lord Krishna, whose wisdom never fails. Yet, deluded by Your maya, our minds wander along the winding paths of karma. But He, the original person, surely forgives the transgressions of those whose minds have been bewildered by His own maya and who fail to recognize His true nature. Remembering their own neglect of Krishna, these women, though afraid of Kamsa, did not falter in their longing to see the infallible Lord. If it is the planets that cause happiness and distress, what concern is that for the unborn soul? The wise say that planets only affect other planets—so who should we blame or be angry with? If karma is the cause of happiness and distress, what concern is that for the soul? Karma belongs to both the sentient and the insentient. This body is but skin, while the true self is the conscious soul, the suparna. Who, then, is to be blamed? For karma is not the true root. If time is the cause of happiness and distress, what concern is that for the soul? For time is of the same nature as the soul. Just as heat is not the property of fire, nor cold of snow, so duality does not belong to another—who, then, should one blame? In truth, for the supreme soul—who is beyond all—duality never arises, anywhere, in any way. Just as I am, so is the cycle of birth and death; therefore, one who is awakened does not fear the elements. Relying on this supreme devotion to the transcendent self, as practiced by the ancient sages, I too will cross this boundless, impassable darkness by serving the feet of Mukunda. At this point, the Blessed Lord spoke: Having become indifferent, bereft of possessions, free from fatigue, wandering the earth as a renunciant, and even when rejected by the wicked, unwavering in his own duty, the sage composed this verse: “No one but the soul itself is the cause of happiness and distress; friends, neutrals, and enemies are all creations of worldly ignorance. Therefore, O dear one, devote yourself fully and restrain the mind by intelligence fixed in Me; this alone is the essence of yoga.” Whoever, with focused mind, holds, recites, or listens to this song sung by the sage, established in Brahman, is not overcome by the dualities of life. Śukadeva continued: The Lord, accompanied by Balarāma, was then residing in Vraja and observed the cowherds preparing for a sacrifice to Indra. Though fully aware of all things, the Lord—the soul of all—approached the elders, led by Nanda, and inquired humbly: “Father, what is this commotion? For whom and for what purpose is this sacrifice performed, and by whom? I am eager to hear, so please tell me. The righteous, devoted in all ways, do not hide their actions. A true friend is one who is impartial, who avoids hostility, and sees others as himself, being indifferent to friends, neutrals, and enemies alike. People act both knowingly and unknowingly, but for the wise, actions bring success, not so for the unwise. So, what is the purpose of this ritual activity you have planned? Or is it merely a custom? Please, as I ask, speak and tell me.” Nanda replied, “Indra is the lord of rain; the clouds are his very form. They pour down water, which delights and sustains all beings. We and others worship that lord of the rain-bringers, the master, with offerings and sacrifices prepared with materials and clarified butter. From what remains, people live for the sake of the three aims of life; for human efforts, the rain-god is the cause of their fruits. A man who abandons this traditional dharma, passed down through generations, out of desire, greed, fear, or hatred, does not attain good fortune.” Hearing these words of Nanda and the other residents of Vraja, Keśava, wishing to stir up anger toward Indra, spoke to his father: “A living being is born by action and is dissolved by action; happiness, sorrow, fear, and safety all arise from action alone. If there is some lord who gives the fruits of others’ actions, he too depends on the doer; for he has no power over one who does not act. What need is there for Indra among beings who follow their own actions? He is powerless to alter what is ordained by their own nature. Indeed, people act according to their own nature, being governed by it; all—gods, demons, and humans—remain established in their own nature. A living being, attaining a body high or low, acts and gives up by action; friend, foe, or neutral—action alone is the teacher and lord. Therefore, one should worship through action, remaining in one’s own nature and performing one’s own duty; that by which one lives directly, that alone is truly one’s deity. He who, having the means to live by one path, depends on another for his livelihood, does not attain well-being from that, just as an unchaste woman does not from a paramour. A brāhmaṇa should live by Brahman, a kṣatriya by protecting the earth, a vaiśya by commerce, and a śūdra by serving the twice-born.” Thus, Krishna gently guided the people of Vraja toward the deeper truth, teaching them about the nature of duty, action, and devotion, and the supreme reality underlying all ritual and tradition.