Shri Shuka began: Thus, when Krishna—the Lord of all lords—was propitiated, he took his father and returned home, filling his relatives with joy and delight. Nanda, having witnessed the astonishing glory of Krishna, the very guardian of the world, and seeing how all revered him, turned to his kinsmen in wonder and spoke, his heart full of amazement. The cowherds, their minds eager and restless, pondered among themselves: “Will this Lord, Krishna, reveal to us our own subtle destination, the truth of our souls?” Krishna, who knows the hearts of his people, perceived their longing. Moved by deep compassion and wishing to fulfill their desire, he considered how best to reveal the truth to them. He reflected that people in this world, bewildered by ignorance, desire, and the fruits of action, wander along higher and lower paths, never truly knowing their own ultimate destination. With this in mind, the compassionate Lord Hari resolved to show the cowherds his own world—a realm beyond all darkness. He revealed to them that supreme abode, the very essence of truth, knowledge, and infinity—Brahman, the eternal radiance. This is the realm that sages perceive 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 again. There they beheld the world of Brahman, the same place where Akrura had once glimpsed the divine. Nanda and the others, seeing that wondrous realm, were filled with the highest bliss. Amazed, they beheld Krishna himself being praised there by sacred hymns. In this way, the Lord revealed to them the ultimate reality. This truth is the foundation of all knowledge, discrimination, scripture, austerity, direct perception, tradition, and inference. Whatever is present at the beginning and end of these—time and causality as well—that alone truly exists in the midst of all. Just as gold, fashioned by oneself before and after, pervades all golden ornaments, so too, amidst all names and forms, Krishna is the underlying reality. “O dear one,” Krishna taught, “knowledge appears in threefold states, shaped by the three guṇas—as cause, effect, and agent. Yet, when these states unite or separate, only that which is the fourth state—the transcendent truth—remains. That which is not present before, nor after, nor in the middle, is but a mere name; whatever is established by the Supreme is alone real—so I understand. “That which seems to exist, though it truly does not, is a transformation born of rajas. Brahman, self-luminous, shines forth as the wondrous variety of the world—Brahman itself, the senses, their objects, the mind, and all their modifications. “By clear reasoning that discerns Brahman, and by skillfully refuting opposing views, one should cut off self-doubt and become tranquil, satisfied in one’s own bliss, 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. The 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 true nature 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. “As space is not attached to the qualities of wind, fire, water, or earth, which come and go with their own properties, so too the imperishable self remains 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. “Some false yogis, hindered by obstacles created by gods or humans, return to yoga by the force of previous habit, but not according to the true 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 for results, experiences his own happiness. “Whatever state the self assumes—standing, sitting, walking, lying down, releasing, or eating food—the mind established in the self does not mistake it for 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, acquired previously 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 supreme experience, the experience of all; the one without a second, by whom, when speech ceases, both speech and life are directed. “This much is the delusion of self: the notion of difference in what is 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 may arise in the body and hinder his practice; for this, a prescribed rule is given. “By the power of yogic concentration, some destroy afflictions through postures accompanied by breath retention; others dispel disturbances with austerity, mantras, and medicinal herbs. “Some eliminate inauspicious influences by meditating on me, by chanting my name, or by following the path of the masters of yoga. “Certain wise ones, establishing the body as stable and well-formed in youth, then engage in various methods to attain perfection. “But such skill is not to be esteemed, for that effort is fruitless; the body is perishable, like the fruit of a tree. “If, through constant practice of yoga, the body becomes fit for longevity, the wise should not place faith in it, but rather abandon yoga and devote themselves to me. “A yogi who pursues this path, taking refuge in me, remains undisturbed by obstacles, free from desire, and experiences his own happiness.” In this way, Krishna instructed his beloved devotees, using the example of a woman who, unaware that her dearest has departed, sits firmly in her seat and behaves as before. But when she no longer feels the warmth in her husband’s feet while worshipping him, she sits with an anxious heart, like a doe separated from her herd. She grieves for herself, helpless and friendless, and weeps, pressing her breasts in the forest, crying out in a clear voice: “Rise, rise, O royal sage! You must protect this land encircled by the ocean, which fears the robbers and kṣatriya outcasts.” Thus ends the twenty-eighth chapter of the first half of the tenth book in the great Purana, the Srimad Bhagavata, the scripture of the supreme, swan-like sages.