Wherever there is true faith—be it in acts of worship, offerings, or any sacred observance—one should worship Me there, for I am present everywhere: in all beings, and within each person as the universal soul. By following the paths of ritual and yoga, whether through the Vedic or Tantric ways, a devotee worships Me and, through such worship, attains from Me the perfection he desires in both realms. Let My image be established, and a firm temple built as My dwelling. Let there be beautiful gardens, blossoming with flowers, so that worship and festivals may be celebrated with joy. For the continual flow of worship and its related rites, both on great festival days and daily, let fields, shops, towns, and villages be dedicated to My service. In this way, the devotee attains My own realm. Through consecration, such a devotee becomes a sovereign over the three worlds, possessing a residence; by worship and related acts, he attains the world of Brahma, and by uniting all three—consecration, worship, and offering—he achieves equality with Me. But through exclusive devotion and yoga, he attains Me alone. Thus, whoever worships Me with devotion obtains the supreme path of loving union. But beware: if anyone takes for themselves, or allows others to take, what has been offered to the gods or to the Brahmins for their sustenance, they become a dung-eater for tens of thousands of years. For the doer, the essence, and the approver—those who partake in such actions—after death, they repeatedly reap the greater fruit, whether good or ill, of those deeds. Now, listen to a tale of devotion and divine grace. Śuka said: On the eleventh day, Nanda fasted and worshipped Janārdana. On the twelfth, he entered the waters of the Kālindī river to bathe. But at night, having crossed into the domain of the asuras, a servant of Varuṇa seized Nanda and brought him before Varuṇa himself. When the cowherds could not find Nanda, they cried out in distress, “Krishna! Rama!” Hearing their anguished calls, Krishna, the Lord who protects His own and grants them fearlessness, understood what had happened to His father and swiftly went to that place. As Krishna arrived, Varuṇa, the guardian of the waters, greeted Him with great honor, worshipped Him splendidly, and spoke, rejoicing in the rare festival of beholding the Lord. Varuṇa said, “Today my being is pacified; today, O Lord, my purpose is fulfilled. Those devoted to Your feet, O Blessed One, have reached the end of the path. Obeisance to You, Supreme Self, Brahman, where illusion and the imagined creation of worlds are not even heard of. Unknowingly, by my own foolishness and ignorance, Your father was brought here. Please forgive this, O Krishna, who sees all. O Govinda, lover of Your father, let Your father return to his people.” Thus propitiated, Krishna, Lord of lords, took His father and returned, filling His family and kin with boundless joy. Nanda, having witnessed the extraordinary glory of the guardian of the world and the reverence shown to Krishna, spoke to his kinsmen, astonished and full of wonder. The cowherds, their minds eager and filled with longing, wondered among themselves, “Will this Lord show us our own subtle destination?” Krishna, the Blessed Lord, knowing the hearts of His people, considered their desire with compassion and resolved to fulfill it. For people in this world, bewildered by ignorance, desire, and action, wander endlessly among higher and lower paths, not knowing their own true destination. Thus, full of compassion, Lord Hari revealed to the cowherds His own supreme world, which is beyond all darkness. That realm is truth, knowledge, and infinity—Brahman, the eternal radiance, which the sages behold when all qualities have ceased and their minds are absorbed in oneness. Krishna led them to the lake of Brahman, where He immersed them, then lifted them out. There they beheld the world of Brahman, the same place that Akrura had once glimpsed. Nanda and the others, seeing that divine realm, were filled with supreme bliss and amazement as they saw Krishna being praised with hymns by the denizens of that world. In that place, knowledge, discrimination, the scriptures, austerity, direct perception, tradition, and inference—all these, and time and causality as well—whatever exists at the beginning and end, that alone exists in the middle. Just as gold, before and after it is shaped, pervades all golden objects, so too, amidst all names and forms, I alone am present. O dear one, this knowledge is threefold in its states, made of the three guṇas—cause, effect, and agent; yet, by their union and separation, that alone which is the fourth state is the ultimate truth. That which is not before, nor after, nor in the middle is merely a designation; whatever is established as existent by the Supreme, that alone truly is—so is My understanding. That which, though not existing, yet appears, is but a transformation born of rajas; Brahman itself, self-luminous, shines forth as the wondrous variety of Brahman, the senses, their objects, the mind, and all their modifications. Therefore, by clear reasoning that discerns Brahman, and by skill in refuting contrary views, one should cut off all self-doubt, become tranquil, satisfied in one’s own bliss, and indifferent to all objects of desire. The self is not the body made of earth, nor the senses, nor the gods, demons, wind, water, or fire; mind is only food, intellect is sattva, ego is space, and earth is the balance of elements. How could the senses, composed of guṇas, affect the one whose abode is clearly distinguished? Or what fault is there if they are agitated? Just as clouds, even when present, do not affect the sun once they have departed. Just as space is not attached to the qualities of wind, fire, water, or earth, as they come and go with their own properties, so too the imperishable self is untouched by sattva, rajas, and tamas—the causes of transmigration in the mind. Nevertheless, until the impurity of rajas is removed from the mind by firm devotion to Me, association with the guṇas—creations of māyā—should be carefully avoided. Those false yogis, hindered by obstacles created by gods or humans, again practice yoga by the force of previous habit, but not according to the method of karma. Action is performed, and the living being acts, impelled by some cause or by fate; but the wise one, even while situated in nature, having renounced all thirst, experiences his own happiness. Whether standing, sitting, walking, lying down, releasing, or eating food—whatever state the self assumes, the mind established in the self does not know it as anything else. If one perceives an unreal object of the senses, and, by reasoning, sees something contrary, the wise do not consider it real—just as, upon waking, a dream disappears. Thus concludes the twenty-eighth chapter of the first half of the tenth book in the great Purana, Srimad Bhagavata, the scripture revered by the supreme, swan-like sages.