O King, the journey of the embodied soul is subtle and profound. When the soul departs the body, it attains a form born of its own nature, yet the mind cannot directly grasp meanings that are not experienced. The mind alone unfolds before a person the shapes it has taken before, those it will assume, and even those it will never know—such is its mysterious power. Sometimes, within the mind, visions arise of things never seen or heard, and so one must infer their nature according to place, time, and action. All objects accessible to the senses and mind come and go in a constant cycle, experienced by all beings. But when the mind is purified and fixed in sattva, dwelling close to the Lord, then all darkness is dispelled—like the shadow of the moon vanishing—and the truth shines forth. The sense of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ persists as long as the arrangement of intellect, mind, senses, and their qualities—beginningless and subtle—remains. Yet, during sleep, fainting, suffering, or when breath is disturbed, even the awareness ‘I am’ does not arise; this is true even at the burning of death. In the womb and in childhood, due to immaturity, the elevenfold subtle body is not manifest, just as the moon is hidden in its new phase. Even when objects are absent, the cycle continues unbroken; as one contemplates objects, misfortune may come in dreams, though they are unreal. The fivefold subtle body, expanded into three and sixteen aspects, united with consciousness, is called the living being. Through this, the soul takes up and abandons bodies, experiencing joy, sorrow, fear, pain, and happiness. Just as a leech on grass and water neither fully departs nor remains, so the soul does not abandon identification with the body, even at the time of death. The unseen does not perish like the seen, but exists in another way, like a dream. What was, what is, and what will be—all are dormant, day and night. When one constantly contemplates actions performed by the senses, as long as ignorance persists, bondage arises for the non-self. Therefore, for liberation, worship Hari with all your being, seeing the universe as His own, from whom creation, maintenance, and dissolution arise. Thus, the great devotee Nārada, having shown the path of the swans and bidding farewell, departed for Siddhaloka. King Prācīnabarhī, the royal sage, after instructing his sons in the protection of creation, went to the hermitage of Kapila for austerity. There, with unwavering concentration, he worshipped Govinda’s lotus feet, freed from all attachment, and attained likeness with Him through devotion. O sinless one, this teaching on the transcendental Self was sung by the divine sage. Whoever recites or hears it is liberated from material bondage. This purifying glory of Mukunda, which sanctifies the world, has flowed from the mouth of the foremost divine sage, embodying the purity of the Self. Whoever hears it attains the supreme state and, freed from all bonds, no longer wanders in this existence. This wondrous transcendental teaching, which I have now received, resolves all doubts regarding the duties of women and men, both here and hereafter. Śuka continued: When the Lord suddenly disappeared, the women of Vraja, unable to see Him, were tormented, just like female elephants separated from their leader. Absorbed in His movements, affection, smiles, playful glances, charming speech, and delightful pastimes, their minds captivated by the Lord of Lakṣmī, the women began to imitate His actions, each identifying herself with Him. In walking, smiling, glancing, speaking, and other acts, the beloveds of the Beloved, embodying His very form, imitated Kṛṣṇa’s playful ways, saying, “I am He,” each convinced in her heart. Gathered together, they sang of Him loudly and wandered from forest to forest like those possessed, searching for Him. They questioned the trees, who, though standing apart, contain the Supreme Person within, as if asking the sky. “O Aśvattha, Plakṣa, Nyagrodha trees, have you seen the son of Nanda pass this way, stealing our minds with His loving glances and radiant smiles? “O Kurabaka, Aśoka, Nāga, Punnāga, Campaka trees, has Rāma’s younger brother, whose smile humbles the proud, passed this way among the haughty maidens? “O blessed Tulasī, dear to Govinda’s feet, surrounded by swarms of bees, have you seen the beloved Acyuta pass by, adorned with you? “O Mālatī, Mallikā, Jāti, Yūthikā, have you seen Mādhava pass by, delighting you with His touch? “O Cūta, Priyāla, Panasa, Āsana, Kovida, Jambu, Arka, Bilva, Bakula, Āmra, Kadamba, Nīpa, and all other trees on the banks of Yamunā, please reveal to us, whose hearts are empty, the path Kṛṣṇa has taken. “O Earth, what austerity have you performed, that you shine, your hairs standing on end with joy from the festival of Keśava’s feet touching you? Is it from the touch of His feet, His mighty deeds, or the embrace of His Boar form? “Or has Acyuta come here to His beloved, O friend, delighting her senses with His body and gaze? The fragrance of the garland on the chief of the clan, stained with the kuṅkuma from His beloved’s breasts, is wafting here. “With His lotus hand placed on the shoulder of His beloved, Rāma’s younger brother, followed by intoxicated bees and Tulasī, is wandering here; do the trees bow to Him as He passes, glancing at them with affection? “Ask these creepers, who embrace the trees with their arms; surely, touched by His hand, they display horripilation in delight.” Thus, speaking in their madness, the gopīs, distressed in their search for Kṛṣṇa, imitated His playful acts, each absorbed in Him. One, imitating Pūtanā, approached and offered her breast to Kṛṣṇa to suckle; another, pretending to be a crying child, was comforted; another, acting as the cart-demon, was struck by a foot. Another, taking the role of a demon, seized one who was playing the part of Kṛṣṇa; yet another, imitating the sound of the cowherd settlement, dragged someone by the foot while playing. Some, acting as Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, played as cowherds; another, playing as the calf-demon, was defeated; and one among them took the role of the crane-demon. Calling out to one who was far away, as Kṛṣṇa would, another followed after, playing the flute and sporting about, while others praised her, saying, “Well done!” One, placing her own arm on the shoulder of another as she walked, said, “I am Kṛṣṇa—see my graceful gait,” her mind absorbed in him. In this way, the gopīs, lost in devotion and longing, became embodiments of Kṛṣṇa’s love, their hearts echoing His presence, even in His absence.