Urged by the restless energy of rajas, the clouds pour forth their waters everywhere, nourishing all living beings. It is by this natural process alone that creatures thrive—so what need is there for Indra’s intervention? The cowherd folk, living simply amidst the woods and mountains, have no cities, towns, or houses; their lives are woven into the forest itself. Krishna, the beloved of Vraja, addresses them tenderly: “Let us begin a sacrifice for the cows, the brāhmaṇas, and the mountain. Use the materials gathered for Indra’s worship instead for this purpose.” He instructs them to prepare an array of cooked foods—soups, rice puddings, cakes, fried flour delicacies, and dishes rich with milk. The brāhmaṇas, learned in the Vedas, are to offer the sacred fires, and abundant, excellent food and cows are to be given to them as gifts. To others—horse-keepers, outcastes, and those fallen from virtue—let appropriate gifts be given. After offering barley to the cows, let the mountain itself be honored. Krishna continues: “Adorn yourselves, eat well, anoint your bodies, and dress in fine garments. Then, perform circumambulation of the cows, the brāhmaṇas, the sacred fires, and the mountain.” This, he says, is his opinion and should be done if it pleases them, for such a sacrifice is dear to the cows, the brāhmaṇas, the mountain, and to himself. Śuka narrates that, hearing these words from the Lord—who, as Time itself, wished to humble Indra’s pride—Nanda and the cowherds accepted Krishna’s counsel as proper. They carried out all that Madhusūdana had prescribed, having the brāhmaṇas recite blessings and using the gathered materials for the mountain and the brāhmaṇas. Gifts were respectfully offered, barley was given to the cows, and, placing the herds at the forefront, they circumambulated the mountain. The women, mounting their beautifully decorated ox-drawn carts, sang of Krishna’s exploits and received blessings from the virtuous brāhmaṇas. Krishna, assuming another form to inspire confidence among the cowherds, declared, “I am the mountain,” and, manifesting a great form, accepted their 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 dwells in the forest and destroys those mortals who disrespect him, is to be honored for the protection of themselves and their 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. Thus concludes the twenty-fourth chapter of the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the collection for the paramahaṃsas. Turning to another sacred teaching, Krishna speaks: “By perceiving me—the Self, the self-luminous one who dwells in the hearts of all beings—within yourself, you will attain freedom from sorrow and fear. Mother, I will impart to you spiritual knowledge, which brings peace to all actions; by this, you will cross over fear.” Maitreya recounts how, thus addressed by Kapila, the lord of creatures, the devotee, pleased, circumambulated him to the right and went to the forest. He undertook a vow of silence, relying solely on the Self, wandering unattached across the earth, without fire and without a fixed dwelling. Absorbing his mind in Brahman—beyond both the manifest and unmanifest, appearing as qualities yet itself without qualities—he realized it through single-minded devotion. Free from ego and possessiveness, beyond dualities, seeing equally and seeing his own Self, inwardly peaceful and steady in mind, he was like a calm ocean without waves. In Vāsudeva, the all-knowing Lord, the inner Self, through supreme devotion, he realized his own Self and became free from bondage. He saw the Lord present in all beings as his own Self, and all beings in the Lord within himself. Freed from desire and aversion, with an even mind toward all, endowed with devotion to the Lord, he attained the state of a devotee of the Lord. He beheld the radiant form: crowned, adorned with bracelets, necklace, anklets, girdle, conch, discus, mace, lotus, garland, and the finest jewels, full of supreme splendor. The Kaustubha gem shone on his auspicious neck, his shoulders like a lion’s, unfailing glory illuminating his form like a flawless touchstone. His abdomen, marked by three lines, moved with the rhythm of breath, as though the universe itself was being drawn in and released by the deep whirl of his navel. He wore a brilliant yellow garment with a golden belt over his dark hips; his thighs, knees, and shins were perfectly formed and beautiful. His feet, shining like autumn lotuses, their nails radiating light, dispelled inner darkness. “O Teacher, reveal your own feet, the path for those who seek to cross the darkness of ignorance.” This form is to be meditated upon by those who desire purification of the self; devotion to it grants fearlessness to those who perform their own duty. Though difficult to reach for all embodied beings, Krishna is attainable by the devoted; even the sovereignty of the self is considered inferior to the ultimate state of self-realization gained through exclusive devotion. Having worshipped Him, who is difficult to approach—even for the virtuous and hard to attain—through exclusive devotion, who would desire anything outside His feet? Where death, the ender of life, does not approach those who are indifferent to it, even as he destroys the universe with his might and the fierce arching of his brows. Not even heaven or liberation can be weighed against even half a moment of association with the Lord’s devotees for mortals—what then of other blessings? Therefore, O sinless one, may we have the association of those whose character is pure and compassionate toward all beings, whose sins are washed away by bathing within and without in the sacredness of Your fame—this alone is Your grace to us. He whose mind is not distracted by external objects, nor enters the dark cave of ignorance, whose mind is purified by the favor of devotion and yoga—such a sage surely perceives Your path. That in which this universe appears, and by which the universe is illumined—that reality, the supreme Brahman, the highest light, is vast like space. He who, by His own power of illusion, created this world of many forms, sustains it, and again dissolves it, remaining unchanged; the perception of difference is due to the instability of the mind—O Lord, we recognize You as self-dependent. With faith, yogis worship You alone through various rituals for the attainment of perfection; You are perceived in all beings, senses, and the mind—thus, those skilled in the Veda and Tantra know You.