Whoever takes for themselves what has been offered—by their own hand or by others—to the gods or to the Brahmins, meant for their sustenance, is destined to a terrible fate: such a person must eat filth for tens of thousands of years. For every action, whether one is the doer, the instigator, or the one who approves, all those who partake in the act will, after death, receive the full and multiplied results of those deeds. Now, on the sacred eleventh day, Nanda, fasting with devotion, worshipped Janārdana. When the twelfth day arrived, he entered the waters of the Kālindī River to bathe. But, as fate would have it, a servant of Varuṇa, an asura, seized Nanda. For Nanda had entered the river at night, unknowingly crossing the boundary set by the asuras. The servant brought Nanda before Varuṇa himself. When the cowherds realized Nanda was missing, they searched in vain and, filled with fear and despair, cried out, “Krishna! Rama!” Hearing their anxious calls, Krishna—the Blessed Lord who grants fearlessness to his devotees—understood at once that his father had been taken by Varuṇa. With his heart full of resolve, Krishna went immediately to that place. As Krishna arrived, Varuṇa, the guardian of the world, welcomed him with great honor and reverence. With splendid offerings and worship, Varuṇa celebrated the rare festival of beholding the Lord. Overwhelmed, Varuṇa spoke: “Today my body is at peace; today, O Lord, my life’s purpose is fulfilled. Those who are devoted to your lotus feet, O Blessed One, have reached the end of all striving. Obeisance to you, O Supreme Self, O Brahman, in whose presence illusion and the imagined creation of worlds have no place.” With humility, Varuṇa confessed, “Unknowingly, through my own ignorance and folly, your father was brought here. Please forgive this transgression. O Krishna, who sees all, O Govinda, lover of your father, please show your favor to me and let your father return home.” Thus propitiated, Krishna, the Lord of lords, took his father Nanda and returned, bringing immense joy to all the cowherds and their families. Nanda, having witnessed the extraordinary majesty of Varuṇa and the deep reverence even the gods paid to Krishna, was filled with astonishment. He shared his wonder with his kinsmen. The cowherds, their minds now eager and curious, wondered among themselves, “Will this Lord show us our own subtle destination?” Krishna, ever compassionate and knowing the hearts of his people, understood their desire and resolved to fulfill it. He reflected, “People in this world, bewildered by ignorance, desire, and action, wander among higher and lower paths, unaware of their true destination.” Moved by great compassion, Krishna, the Blessed Lord Hari, revealed to the cowherds his own supreme world—a realm beyond all darkness. That world is truth itself, knowledge, and infinite Brahman—the eternal radiance that the great sages behold when all qualities have ceased and their minds are perfectly absorbed. Krishna led the cowherds to the lake of Brahman, where he immersed them and then drew them forth, granting them a vision of the world of Brahman—the same transcendent realm that Akrura had once glimpsed. Nanda and the others, upon seeing that place, were filled with supreme bliss. Amazed, they beheld Krishna himself being praised there with hymns by the denizens of that world. This chapter thus concludes, marking the end of the twenty-eighth chapter in the first half of the tenth book of the great Purana, Srimad Bhagavata—the scripture revered by the supreme, swan-like sages. There, the Lord imparted the highest wisdom: Knowledge, discrimination, scripture, austerity, direct perception, tradition, and inference—whatever is present at the beginning and end of these, and time and causality as well, that alone exists in the middle. Just as gold, shaped by one’s own hand before and after, pervades all golden ornaments, so too, amidst all designations, “I am that.” He continued, “This knowledge has three states, arising from the three guṇas—cause, effect, and agent; but by both their union and separation, that alone which is the fourth state is the truth. That which is not before, nor after, nor in the middle, is merely a name; whatever is established as existent by the supreme, that alone truly is—such is my understanding.” “That which, though not existing, appears to exist, is a transformation born of rajas; Brahman itself, self-luminous, shines forth as the wondrous variety of Brahman, senses, objects, mind, and their modifications. Thus, by clear reasoning that discerns Brahman, and with skill in refuting opposing views, one should cut off 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, earth is the balance of elements. How could the senses, composed of guṇas, affect the one whose true 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, association with the guṇas, which are creations of māyā, should be avoided, until, by firm devotion to me, the impurity of rajas is removed from the mind.” He further explained, “Those who falsely claim yoga but are hindered by obstacles created by gods or humans, again take up the practice of yoga by the force of previous habit, but not according to the method of karma. Actions are performed, and the living being acts, impelled by some cause or by fate; but the wise one, even while situated in nature, having renounced 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.” “The pattern of guṇas and actions, previously acquired and not distinguished from the self due to ignorance, ceases by mere observation; the self is neither grasped nor abandoned. Just as the rising sun destroys darkness for human eyes but does not create it, so too my keen discernment destroys the darkness of ignorance in a person’s intellect.” “This self-luminous, unborn, immeasurable one is the great experience, the experience of all; the one without a second, when speech ceases, by whom speech and life are directed. This much is the delusion of self: the notion of difference in the pure; apart from the self, there is no support for one’s own self.” “That which is apprehended by name and form, fivefold and uncontradicted—this, even if meaningless, is mere praise; such duality belongs to those who consider themselves wise. For a yogi whose yoga is not yet mature, disturbances arising in the body may hinder him; for this, the prescribed rule is given.” Thus, in this sacred narrative, the Lord revealed the loftiest truths to his devotees, dispelling ignorance and granting them a vision of the supreme reality beyond all darkness and delusion.