Worship that Supreme Self, who dwells within your own heart and is present in all beings, by constantly praising and meditating upon Hari. Having received this instruction in yoga, uphold the vows of the sages, and with minds focused and reverent, practice this diligently. Long ago, the Lord, the master of creation, gave these teachings to us, especially when he wished to bring forth the sons of Bhṛgu and others, and to those desiring to create. At that time, we, the lords of creation, were not moved to generate beings on our own; but by this instruction, which dispelled our ignorance, we were inspired to create the various creatures of the world. Now, whoever devotes themselves to reciting this teaching with attention will quickly attain the highest good, becoming devoted to Vāsudeva. This supreme knowledge is the greatest welfare for all; with it, one can easily cross the difficult ocean of suffering, as if aboard a sturdy boat. Whoever, with faith, recites this praise of the Lord as I have sung it, truly worships Hari, who is otherwise difficult to approach. From this song, dear to the highest welfare, a person swiftly attains whatever they desire. Whoever rises early, with joined palms and faith in their heart, and hears or recites these verses, is freed from the bonds of karma. O sons of the sages, this is the praise of the Supreme Person, the Paramātmā, sung by me; recite it with a focused mind, practice it as a great austerity, and in the end, you will attain your desired goal. Now, listen as the story turns to the time when Indra, out of anger, unleashed a torrent of club-like rain upon the land of Vraja, and the wondrous lifting of Govardhana took place. Enraged, Indra summoned the destructive clouds known as Sāṃvartaka and spoke with commanding words: "Ah! See the pride and arrogance of these cowherds, dwellers of the forest, who, relying on Krishna—a mere mortal—have dared to disrespect the gods!" He continued, "Just as some, abandoning the true science of inquiry, try to cross the ocean of existence through mere rituals and actions, so too have these cowherds, trusting in Krishna—a talkative, childish, and arrogant boy who thinks himself wise—offended me. Blinded by their own wealth and puffed up by Krishna, they have become proud and are leading their cattle to ruin. Therefore, I shall mount Airāvata, my great elephant, and, accompanied by the wind-gods, descend upon Vraja with all my might, intent on destroying Nanda's settlement!" Thus, at Indra's command, the clouds, unleashed and unrestrained, began to afflict Nanda's village with torrents of rain. The sky flashed with lightning, thunder roared, and fierce winds drove down water and hail. Rains, thick and thin, poured endlessly, filling every crevice until the earth was submerged and no high or low ground could be seen. The violent winds made the animals tremble, and the cowherds and their wives, shivering and afflicted by the cold, sought refuge in Govinda. Covering their children with their bodies, distressed and trembling, they approached the feet of the Blessed Lord. Crying out, they said, "Krishna, Krishna, greatly fortunate one! O Lord, Gokula is under your protection. You must save us from the wrath of the gods, O lover of your devotees!" Seeing the beings of Vraja struck down by the fierce hail, Lord Hari realized this was the wrath of Indra, provoked because their sacrifice to him had been interrupted. Krishna declared, "Because we stopped our sacrifice, Indra is seeking our destruction, sending this extraordinary, stone-filled rain and violent wind. Now, I shall counter this with my own power of yoga. Out of the arrogance of those who consider themselves lords of the world, I will break their pride." He continued, "For the truly virtuous gods, the Lord is never a cause for astonishment; but for the unworthy, the breaking of their pride brings them peace. Therefore, I shall protect this cowherd community, which has taken refuge in me, regards me as its Lord, and whom I have accepted as my own—this is my vow." Having spoken thus, Krishna, with effortless strength, lifted Govardhana Mountain with one hand, as easily as a child holds up an umbrella. He said to the cowherds, "O mother, O father, O residents of Vraja, bring your cattle and enter the hollow of the mountain as you find suitable. Do not fear the mountain falling from my hand, nor the wind and rain; protection has been arranged for you." Reassured by Krishna's words, the residents of Vraja, with their families, wealth, and dependents, entered the shelter of the mountain. Forgetting hunger, thirst, pain, and even the desire for comfort, they watched in awe as Krishna held up the mountain for seven days, never moving his feet. When Indra heard of Krishna's wondrous power of yoga, he was utterly astonished; his pride shattered, he withdrew his clouds. When the sky cleared, the sun shone, and the terrible wind and rain ceased, Krishna, the lifter of Govardhana, spoke to the cowherds: "Go out, abandon your fear, O cowherds with your wives, wealth, and children; the wind and rain have stopped, and the rivers have receded." Then the cowherds emerged, each gathering their cattle, carts, and belongings, along with their women, children, and elders, moving slowly back to their homes. The Blessed Lord placed the mountain back in its original place before the eyes of all, doing so playfully. Overwhelmed with love, the residents of Vraja quietly approached Krishna, embracing him, while the cowherd women, full of affection, worshipped him with joy, offering curds, unbroken rice, and their constant blessings. Yaśodā, Rohiṇī, Nanda, and Rāma—the strongest among them—embraced Krishna and, overcome with affection, blessed him from their hearts. In the heavens, the hosts of gods, Siddhas, Sādhyas, Gandharvas, and Cāraṇas, delighted by Krishna's deed, sang his praises and joyfully showered a rain of flowers upon the earth.