Whoever, with a focused mind, holds, recites, or listens to the song sung by the sage established in Brahman, is not overcome by the dualities of life. Śuka continued: The Supreme Lord, accompanied by Balarāma, was then residing in Vraja. One day, He noticed the cowherds, bustling with activity, preparing for a grand sacrifice to Indra, the lord of rain. Though the Lord is the soul of all and knows everything, He approached the elders of Vraja, led by His father Nanda, with humility and inquired, “Father, what is this lively commotion? What is its purpose, for whom is this sacrifice intended, and who performs it?” With a gentle eagerness, Krishna pressed further, “O Father, I truly wish to understand. Please tell me, for I am eager to listen. The righteous, devoted in all ways, do not keep their actions secret from those who seek to know. One who is impartial—indifferent to friend, neutral, or enemy, avoiding hostility—is called a true friend, seeing others as oneself. People perform actions knowingly and unknowingly; for the wise, actions bring success, but not so for the unwise. So, what is the purpose of this ritual? Is it simply tradition, or is there a deeper reason? Please, as I ask, speak openly and tell me.” Nanda replied, “Dear one, the god Indra is the lord of rain; the clouds are his very form. They pour down water, which sustains and delights all creatures. We, and others like us, worship him—the lord of the rain-bringers, the master—with offerings and sacrifices prepared with various materials and clarified butter. By what remains from that sacrifice, people live and pursue the three aims of life. For human efforts, the rain-god is the cause of their fruits. One who abandons this traditional dharma, which has been passed down through generations, out of desire, greed, fear, or hatred, does not attain good fortune.” Hearing these words from Nanda and the other residents of Vraja, Keśava—Krishna—decided to stir up anger toward Indra and spoke to his father. “Father,” He said, “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, is dependent on the doer; 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 beings—gods, demons, and humans—remain established in their own nature. A living being, attaining a body high or low, acts and relinquishes 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. “If one has the means to live by one path but depends on another for livelihood, he 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. Farming, trade, and cow protection—lending at interest and music are also said to be proper livelihoods. Among these, we are always engaged in tending cows. “Sattva, rajas, and tamas are the causes of maintenance, creation, and destruction. From rajas arises the universe, the diverse world, each from the other. Urged by rajas, the clouds pour water everywhere; by that alone do beings thrive—what then can Indra do? “We have no cities, towns, or houses; we always dwell in the forest, dear father, living among woods and mountains. Therefore, let us begin a sacrifice for the cows, the brāhmaṇas, and the mountain. Let the materials gathered for Indra’s worship be used for this sacrifice instead. Let various kinds of cooked foods be prepared—soups, rice puddings, cakes, fried flour cakes, and other milk-based dishes. Let the brāhmaṇas learned in the Veda offer the fires properly, and let abundant, excellent food and cows be given to them as gifts. To others—horse-keepers, outcastes, and the fallen—let suitable gifts be given. After offering barley to the cows, let us make an offering to the mountain. Adorned, having eaten, anointed, and dressed in fine garments, let us circumambulate the cows, brāhmaṇas, fires, and the mountain. “This is my opinion, dear father. Let it be done if it pleases you. This sacrifice is dear to the cows, the brāhmaṇas, the mountain, and to me.” Śuka said: Hearing these words spoken by the Lord, who, as Time itself, wished to humble Indra’s pride, Nanda and the others accepted them as proper. They did everything as Madhusūdana had instructed, having the brāhmaṇas recite blessings and using the materials for the mountain and the brāhmaṇas. After properly offering all the gifts and respectfully giving barley to the cows, they placed the herds at the forefront and circumambulated the mountain. Mounting their beautifully decorated carts yoked with oxen, the women, singing of Krishna’s exploits, received the blessings of the virtuous brāhmaṇas. Krishna, to inspire confidence among the cowherds, took on another form, declaring, “I am the mountain,” and, in a great form, accepted the abundant offerings. Together with the people of Vraja, Krishna offered obeisance to the mountain as the Self to the Self, saying, “Behold, this mountain has appeared in form and has granted us his favor.” He, who takes on forms at will, dwells in the forest and destroys those mortals who disrespect him; therefore, we bow to him for the protection of ourselves and our cows. Thus, prompted by Vāsudeva, the cowherds, along with Krishna, performed the prescribed rites for the mountain, the cows, the brāhmaṇas, and the sacrifice, and then returned to Vraja. By perceiving me—the Self, the self-luminous one, who dwells in the hearts of all beings—within yourself by your own self, you will attain freedom from sorrow and fear.