Blinded by attachment to his wife and her charms, even an unwilling and ignorant man is drawn along by her, imitating her ways like a helpless plaything, his weakness making him easy to sway. Meanwhile, Śuka continued the sacred narration. The cowherds of Vraja, having witnessed Kṛṣṇa’s astonishing deeds, were filled with amazement. Unaware of the true extent of his divine power, they gathered around Nanda, their chief, recalling the sage Garga’s prophetic words. With wonder in their voices, they spoke: “How can this boy, whose birth among us villagers would normally be dismissed, perform such marvelous acts? How could a mere child, only seven days old, lift the great Govardhana mountain with one hand, as effortlessly as the king of elephants lifts a lotus flower? With his eyes barely open in childish innocence, he drank the breast milk of the powerful demoness Pūtanā—and with it, her very life itself, just as time consumes all living beings. “As a crying infant, lying beneath a cart, his tiny feet struck its wheel, overturning it with a simple kick. When he was but a year old, the demon Tṛṇāvarta seized him and soared into the sky, gripping him by the neck. Yet, the child overcame this great affliction with ease. Once, his mother, having tied him to a mortar for stealing butter, watched as he crawled between two arjuna trees and, with his arms, brought them crashing down. “In the forest, surrounded by other boys while tending the calves, he tore apart the beak of the demon Baka, who had come to kill him. When another demon, disguised as a calf, crept among the herd, Kṛṣṇa slew him too, and with playful strength, struck the kapittha fruits from the trees. He defeated the ass-demon and his powerful companions, making the tāla grove safe and filling it with ripe fruit. By his strength, he slew the fierce Pralamba demon and rescued the cows and cowherds from a raging forest fire. “He subdued the proud serpent king, Kaliya, and drove him from the poisoned waters of the Yamunā, making the river pure again. All the residents of Vraja possess an affection for him that cannot be abandoned. Nanda, how could such deep, natural love for your son arise in our hearts? How could a child of just seven days accomplish the miracle of lifting a great mountain? O leader of Vraja, these wonders fill us with doubts about your son’s true nature.” Hearing their questions, Nanda replied with gentle authority: “Listen, dear friends, and let your doubts be dispelled. The venerable sage Garga once spoke to me about this very child. He told me that in previous ages, this illustrious being took on three different colors—white, red, and yellow—and now he has assumed a dark complexion. Once, he was born as the son of Vasudeva; now, he is my son. The wise call him Vāsudeva. “He has many names and forms, each reflecting his qualities and deeds. Though I know them, most people do not. This child, the delight of Gokula and all cowherds, will bring us prosperity and protect us from every danger. In ancient times, when the virtuous were oppressed by robbers in a land without a king, he protected them, allowing them to overcome their enemies by uniting together. “Those fortunate souls who develop affection for him are never overcome by misfortune, just as those protected by Viṣṇu are never defeated by demons. Therefore, this son of mine is equal to Nārāyaṇa in qualities, fortune, fame, and influence. There is no wonder in his miraculous deeds. Garga told me all this before returning to his home. Thus, I consider Kṛṣṇa, the doer of effortless wonders, to be a portion of Nārāyaṇa himself.” Hearing these words and recalling Garga’s revelations, the people of Vraja, who had seen and heard of Kṛṣṇa’s immeasurable brilliance, honored Nanda and Kṛṣṇa with joy, their doubts and astonishment dissolved. When Indra, angered by the interruption of his sacrifice, unleashed torrents of rain, hail, and wind upon Vraja, the cowherds and their cattle were overcome with distress. Seeing Kṛṣṇa, their only refuge, smiling with compassion, he uprooted the mountain with one hand—as easily as a child lifts a toy—and held it aloft, sheltering the entire community. Thus, Indra’s pride was humbled, and his favor for the cows was shown to be lacking. In this way, the twenty-sixth chapter of the first part of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa and scripture of the supreme renunciates, comes to a close. Śuka then described the nature of saints: those who are unattached, absorbed in the Lord, peaceful, seeing all beings equally, free from possessiveness and ego, undisturbed by the dualities of life, and untouched by greed. Among such blessed souls, O fortunate one, the stories of the Lord are always heard and cherished; these sacred tales purify those who hold them dear and remove all sin. Those who respectfully listen to, sing, or even approve of these stories, with devotion and faith, attain loving devotion to the Lord. For the saint who has attained such devotion, what more remains to be achieved, when he experiences bliss in the infinite, the embodiment of Brahman and joy? Just as one who approaches a blazing fire is freed from cold, fear, and darkness, so too does one who associates with saints find relief from the sufferings of the world. For those tossed about in the perilous ocean of existence, the saints—knowers of Brahman, peaceful and wise—are like a sturdy boat to those drowning in the waters of worldly life. Food is the very life of living beings; I am the refuge for the distressed; righteousness is the wealth that endures after death; and saints are the shelter for those who fear in this world. Saints grant vision, like the rising sun illuminating the world; among gods, relatives, saints, and even myself, the saints are supreme. Thus, Vaitasena, even after Urvashi, wandered the earth, indifferent to worldly pleasures, free from attachment, delighting solely in the self. Softness and hardness, cold and heat—these are qualities of touch, the subtle element of air. Movement, gathering, acquisition, leadership among things and sounds, and the very essence of all senses—these are the characteristic actions of air. From the subtle element of touch belonging to air, and through divine influence, form arose; then light emerged, and the eye became the means of perceiving form. The state of being a substance, the quality of being a property, and the condition of being an individual entity—these are the pure functions of form for fire, O virtuous one.