Therefore, to be liberated from the bonds of material existence, one should worship Lord Hari with all one’s heart, recognizing the entire universe as His own manifestation. From Him arise creation, maintenance, and dissolution. Having revealed this sublime path—the way of the paramahaṁsas, the swan-like sages—Nārada, the foremost devotee, took his leave and departed for Siddhaloka, the realm of perfected beings. Meanwhile, King Prācīnabarhī, that royal sage, having already instructed his sons in the duties of protecting creation, journeyed to the hermitage of Kapila to practice austerity. There, with unwavering concentration and a heart free from all attachments, Prācīnabarhī worshipped the lotus feet of Govinda. Through steadfast devotion, he became one with the Lord, attaining a state of likeness to Him. O sinless one, this teaching on the transcendental Self, sung by the divine sage, bestows liberation from material bondage upon all who recite or hear it. The purifying glories of Mukunda, sanctifying the world, have flowed from the lips of this greatest sage, embodying the purity of the Self. Whoever hears this sacred narration attains the supreme state, freed from all bonds, and no longer wanders in the cycle of birth and death. This wondrous, transcendental teaching, which I have now received, dispels all doubts regarding the duties of men and women, both in this world and the next. Śuka then spoke: When the Lord suddenly vanished from their midst, the women of Vraja were plunged into torment, just like female elephants bereft of their leader. Their minds absorbed in thoughts of His movements, affectionate words, enchanting smiles, playful glances, sweet speech, and delightful pastimes, the gopīs, captivated by the Lord of Lakṣmī, began to imitate His actions, each identifying herself with Him. In their walking, smiling, glancing, speaking, and playful acts, the beloveds of the Beloved mirrored Kṛṣṇa’s ways, each convinced in her heart, “I am He.” Gathered together, they sang His praises aloud and wandered from forest to forest like those possessed, searching for Him. They questioned the trees—who, though standing apart, hold the Supreme Person within them—as if asking the very sky. “O Aśvattha, Plakṣa, Nyagrodha trees,” they called, “have you seen the son of Nanda pass this way, stealing our hearts with His loving glances and radiant smiles? O Kurabaka, Aśoka, Nāga, Punnāga, Campaka, has Rāma’s younger brother, whose smile humbles the proud, walked this path among the haughty maidens? “O blessed Tulasī, dear to Govinda’s feet and surrounded by bees, have you seen our beloved Acyuta pass by, adorned with your leaves? O Mālatī, O Mallikā, O Jāti, O Yūthikā, have you seen Mādhava, delighting you with His touch? “O Cūta, Priyāla, Panasa, Āsana, Kovida, Jambu, Arka, Bilva, Bakula, Āmra, Kadamba, Nīpa, and all trees on the banks of Yamunā, please tell 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 meet His beloved, delighting her senses with His body and gaze? The fragrance of His garland, stained with the kuṅkuma from His beloved’s breasts, is wafting here. “With His lotus hand on the shoulder of His beloved, Rāma’s younger brother, followed by bees and Tulasī, must have wandered 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 are thrilled and display horripilation in delight.” Thus, in the madness of their love, the gopīs, distressed in their search for Kṛṣṇa, imitated His playful acts, each becoming absorbed in Him. One, acting as Pūtanā, approached another and offered her breast for Kṛṣṇa to suckle; another, pretending to be a crying child, was comforted; another, playing the cart-demon, was struck by a foot. Another, taking the part of a demon, seized one who was playing the role of Kṛṣṇa, while yet another, imitating the sounds of the cowherd settlement, dragged someone by the foot in play. Some played as Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, the cowherds; another, 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 arm on another’s shoulder as they walked, declared, “I am Kṛṣṇa—see my graceful gait,” her mind absorbed in Him. Another, saying, “Do not fear the wind or rain; I have arranged for your protection,” tried to cover her friend with her garment, using only one hand. One climbed upon another, stepping on her head, and proclaimed, “Wicked one, go away! I am born as the punisher of the wicked!” Another said, “O cowherds, see this terrible forest fire! Close your eyes, and I will quickly ensure your safety.” A slender one, tying another with a garland to a mortar, said, “I am binding the butter thief who broke the pots and stole the clarified butter!” Frightened, the other covered her eyes and feigned fear. Thus, as they questioned the creepers and trees of Vṛndāvana about Kṛṣṇa, they noticed the footprints of the Supreme Soul imprinted in the forest. “These footprints,” they exclaimed, “clearly belong to the great son of Nanda; they are marked with the banner, lotus, thunderbolt, goad, and barleycorn.” Following these various footprints, the women pressed on. Soon, they saw certain footprints closely joined with those of another, and, distressed, they spoke among themselves: “Whose footprints are these, walking with the son of Nanda, with her arm placed on his shoulder, just as an elephant cow is embraced by the elephant? “Surely, this one has worshipped Hari, the Supreme Lord, for Govinda, pleased, has left us all and led her away in secret. How blessed are these creepers and plants, dusted by the pollen from Govinda’s lotus feet, which even Brahmā, Śiva, and goddess Lakṣmī place upon their heads for their highest good. “But her footprints, pressed deeply, disturb us, for, having taken only her from among us, Acyuta enjoys her lips in secret. Her footprints are no longer seen—surely, her tender feet were pained by grass and sprouts, and her beloved has lifted her up. “See here, friends, these footprints are pressed deeper—Kṛṣṇa, burdened by love, is carrying his beloved. Here, the great-souled one set her down to pick flowers; look, at every step, the marks of his feet are clearly seen. “Here, a lover arranged the hair of his beloved; surely, while she was seated here, he adorned her tresses.” Thus, in their longing and love, the gopīs followed the sacred traces of their beloved, their hearts overflowing with devotion and yearning for the Lord.