Śuka continued his narration: At the command of Maghavan—Indra, king of the gods—the clouds, no longer restrained, unleashed their fury upon the peaceful cowherd village of Nanda. Torrents of rain, driven by fierce winds, flashed with lightning and roared with thunder, pouring down both water and hail upon the land. The deluge was relentless. Thick and thin streams of rain filled the valleys and ravines, so that the earth itself—whether low or high—disappeared beneath the flood. The violent winds and bitter cold made the animals tremble with fear. The cowherds and their wives, suffering from the chill and the storm, sought shelter and solace in Govinda, their beloved Krishna. With their bodies they shielded their children and covered their heads, shivering and distressed by the tempest. In their anguish, they approached the feet of the Blessed Lord, Krishna, crying out, “Krishna, Krishna! Most fortunate one! O Lord, Gokula is under your protection. Save us from the wrath of the gods, O lover of your devotees!” Lord Hari saw the suffering of all beings, struck down by the hailstones, and he recognized at once that this calamity was the work of Indra’s anger. He spoke to his people, “Because we interrupted our sacrifice to Indra, he seeks our destruction. This extraordinary, fierce storm—filled with stones and violent wind—is his doing.” “But I shall counter this with my own power of yoga. Out of the arrogance of those who think themselves lords of the world, pride arises, and I will destroy that pride. For the truly virtuous gods, there is no astonishment at the Lord, but for the unworthy, the breaking of pride brings peace.” “Therefore, I will protect this community of cowherds, who have taken refuge in me, who see me as their lord, and whom I have accepted as my own. By my own power of yoga, I shall uphold my vow.” Having spoken thus, Krishna, with effortless strength, lifted Govardhana Mountain with one hand, as easily as a child lifts an umbrella. He called out 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. I have arranged your protection.” Reassured by Krishna’s words, the people of Vraja gathered their families, wealth, and dependents, and entered the shelter of the mountain’s hollow as space allowed. Forgetting hunger, thirst, pain, and even the desire for comfort, they watched in awe as Krishna stood for seven days, holding up the mountain without moving his feet. Hearing of Krishna’s wondrous display of power, Indra was utterly astonished. His pride broken, he withdrew his clouds and ended the storm. When the sky cleared, the sun shone again, and the terrible wind and rain ceased, Krishna, the lifter of Govardhana, addressed the cowherds: “Go forth, abandon your fear, O cowherds with your wives, wealth, and children. The wind and rain have stopped, and the rivers have receded.” The cowherds emerged, slowly taking their cattle, carts, and belongings, along with their women, children, and elders. In the sight of all, Krishna playfully returned Govardhana Mountain to its original place. With hearts overflowing with love, the people of Vraja quietly approached Krishna. They embraced him, expressing their gratitude and affection. The cowherd women, full of joy, worshipped him, offering curds and unbroken rice, and showered him with their constant blessings. Yaśodā, Rohiṇī, Nanda, and Balarāma—the strongest among them—embraced Krishna and, overcome with love, gave him their heartfelt blessings. In the heavens, the hosts of gods, Siddhas, Sādhyas, Gandharvas, and Cāraṇas rejoiced. They praised Krishna and joyfully showered flowers upon the earth. Conches and kettledrums resounded in the sky, urged on by the gods, while the Gandharvas, led by Tumburu, sang his glories. Surrounded by his loving cowherds, Krishna, with Balarāma, returned to their village. The Gopīs, their hearts deeply moved, sang joyfully of his wondrous deeds as they followed him home. Thus ends the twenty-fifth chapter of the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, scripture for the supreme renunciates. Krishna then spoke of the highest truth: “Let the wise, having shaken off attachment to the qualities of nature, worship me. The learned, free from attachment, self-controlled and vigilant, should worship me. A sage overcomes passion and darkness by cultivating goodness, and, being steadfast, he conquers even goodness by detachment and calm. Thus, freed from the qualities, the soul attains me, leaving behind individual existence.” “The soul, liberated from other souls and from desires born of the qualities, becomes complete in me, the Absolute; it moves neither outward nor inward. Those who know my power as the Lord of Māyā, endowed with eightfold sovereignty, do not even covet the fortune of the goddess of prosperity; in this world, they attain my supreme state.” “Those devoted to me, of peaceful nature, never perish; the weapon of Time does not touch them, for whom I am dear as the Self, as son, friend, teacher, well-wisher, and cherished deity. This world, the next, the soul that moves between both, and all that is considered one’s own—wealth, cattle, or homes—abandoning all others and worshipping me alone, the all-pervading, with exclusive devotion, I carry them beyond death.” “Nowhere but in me, the Supreme Lord of all beings and master of primordial nature, is the intense fear of the soul dispelled. Out of fear of me, the wind blows, the sun shines, Indra sends rain, fire burns, and death moves among creatures. Yogis, endowed with knowledge and renunciation, through the yoga of devotion, enter my feet, which are free from all fear, for their well-being.” “This alone, in this world, is the highest good for people: with intense devotion, to keep the mind steadily fixed on me.” He continued, “Seven gates are made above, two in front, and two below; each for the movement of sense-objects, and within them dwells a certain lord, O King. Of these, five gates are to the east, one to the south, and one to the north; two are to the west. I shall now describe their names, O King. Like fireflies, two eastern gates were constructed together; through them, Dyumatsakha travels, illuminating the land.” Thus, the Lord revealed his divine protection, the power of devotion, and the path to liberation, all while sheltering his beloved devotees beneath the mountain he held aloft.