Having received this wondrous, transcendental teaching, all doubts about the duties of women and men, both for this life and beyond, were dispelled. Now, hear what happened next. Śukadeva continued: When the Lord, Kṛṣṇa, suddenly disappeared from their midst, the women of Vraja were plunged into torment. Unable to see Him, they suffered as female elephants do when separated from their leader. Their minds were utterly absorbed in Kṛṣṇa—His graceful movements, affectionate gestures, enchanting smiles, playful glances, sweet speech, and delightful pastimes. Enraptured by the Lord of Lakṣmī, each gopī began to imitate His actions, so completely did His presence fill their hearts. In their walking, smiling, glancing, speaking, and every playful act, the beloveds of the Beloved mirrored Kṛṣṇa’s own ways, each convinced, “I am He.” Gathered together, the gopīs sang of Him in loud voices and wandered from forest to forest, like those possessed, searching for their Beloved. In their longing, they questioned the trees—though silent and unmoving, the trees contain the Supreme Person within, and so the gopīs addressed them as if seeking an answer from the sky. “O Aśvattha, Plakṣa, Nyagrodha trees,” they called, “have you seen the son of Nanda pass this way, He who steals 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 among you and the haughty maidens? “O blessed Tulasī, so dear to Govinda’s feet and surrounded by bees, have you seen our beloved Acyuta, adorned with your leaves, pass by? “O Mālatī, Mallikā, Jāti, Yūthikā creepers, has Mādhava come, delighting you with His touch? “O Cūta, Priyāla, Panasa, Āsana, Kovida, Jambu, Arka, Bilva, Bakula, Āmra, Kadamba, Nīpa—and all you trees on the banks of Yamunā—please reveal to us, whose hearts are empty, the path that Kṛṣṇa has taken.” They spoke even to the Earth herself: “O Earth, what great austerity have you performed, that you shine so, your hairs standing on end with joy at the festival of Keśava’s feet touching you? Is it the touch of His feet, His mighty deeds, or the embrace of His Boar form that makes you so blessed?” Then, turning to each other, they wondered, “Or perhaps Acyuta has come here to His beloved, delighting her senses with His body and gaze? The fragrance of the garland worn by the chief of the clan, stained with the kuṅkuma from His beloved’s breasts, drifts in the air.” They imagined: “With His lotus hand placed on her shoulder, Rāma’s younger brother, followed by bees intoxicated by the scent of Tulasī, must be wandering here. See how the trees seem to bow to Him as He passes, glancing at them with affection!” They urged each other, “Ask these creepers, who embrace the trees with their arms; surely, touched by His hand, they tremble in delight.” Thus, speaking in their madness, the gopīs, distressed in their search, imitated Kṛṣṇa’s playful acts, each absorbed in Him. One, pretending to be Pūtanā, offered her breast to Kṛṣṇa to suckle; another, acting as a crying child, was comforted; another, playing the cart-demon, was struck by a foot. One, taking the role of a demon, seized another acting as Kṛṣṇa; yet another, imitating the sounds of the cowherd settlement, dragged someone by the foot. Some played as Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, acting as cowherds; another, as the calf-demon, was defeated; and one among them took the part of the crane-demon. Calling out as Kṛṣṇa would to one who was far away, another followed after, playing the flute and sporting about, while the others praised her, saying, “Well done!” One, placing her arm on another’s shoulder as she walked, declared, “I am Kṛṣṇa—see my graceful gait,” her mind lost in Him. Another said, “Do not fear the wind or the rain; I have arranged for your protection,” and tried to cover her friend with her garment, using only one hand. One climbed upon another, stepping on her head, and said, “Wicked one, go away! I am born as the punisher of the wicked!” Another cried, “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!” The other, frightened, covered her eyes and feigned fear. In this way, as they questioned the creepers and trees of Vṛndāvana about Kṛṣṇa, they came upon His footprints in the forest. “These footprints,” they exclaimed, “are clearly those of the great son of Nanda, marked with the banner, lotus, thunderbolt, goad, and barleycorn.” Following the trail, the women went ahead. Soon, they saw certain footprints closely joined with those of another, and they spoke with pain: “Whose footprints are these, side by side with the son of Nanda, her arm upon his shoulder, just as an elephant cow is embraced by the bull?” They lamented, “Surely, this one has worshipped the Lord, Hari, the Supreme, 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—feet which Brahmā, Śiva, and Lakṣmī themselves place upon their heads for the highest good.” But then they noticed, “Her footprints, deeply pressed, disturb us, for Acyuta, having taken only her away from among us, enjoys her lips in secret; her footprints disappear—surely, her tender feet, pained by grass and sprouts, caused her beloved to lift her up.” “See here, sisters—these footprints are pressed deeper. Kṛṣṇa, burdened by love, is carrying his beloved. Here, the great-souled one set her down to pick flowers. Here, for his beloved, he picked flowers; look—at every step, the marks of his feet are clear. Here, a lover arranged the hair of his beloved; surely, while she was seated here, he adorned her tresses.” They reflected, “Though self-satisfied and undivided in himself, he enjoyed with her, showing the wretchedness of lovers and the fickleness of women.” As they spoke thus, the gopīs, bewildered, wandered about. Meanwhile, the gopī whom Kṛṣṇa had led away, leaving the others behind in the forest, thought herself the most fortunate of all women: “Having abandoned the gopīs who desire him, my beloved now worships me.” But soon, having reached a spot deep in the forest, proud, she said to Keshava, “I can walk no further; take me wherever your heart desires.” Thus addressed, Kṛṣṇa replied, “Climb onto my shoulder.” But in that very moment, He vanished, and the gopī was left alone, lamenting: “Alas, Lord! Beloved! Dearest! Where are you, where are you, mighty-armed one? O friend, show your presence to your poor servant!