In the moonlit night along the banks of the Yamunā, the gopīs gathered around Lord Krishna, each expressing her love in her own unique way. One joyfully clasped Hari’s lotus hand in her joined palms, while another gently placed his sandalwood-scented arm on her shoulder. Another slender gopī took the betel leaf Krishna had chewed, cradling it reverently in her cupped hands; yet another, burning with longing, placed his lotus foot between her breasts, seeking closeness. Overwhelmed by the tumult of love, one gopī’s brow knit in agitation, her sidelong glances seemed to strike Krishna, her teeth clenched beneath her lips. Another, with unblinking eyes, gazed endlessly upon his lotus-like face, never satisfied by its beauty—just as the wise are never satiated by contemplating his feet. One gopī closed her eyes, drawing Krishna into her heart through the gateway of her vision, embracing him inwardly with goosebump-covered limbs, immersed in the bliss of a yogi. All the gopīs, delighted by the sight of Keśava, experienced the highest festival of joy, abandoning the pain of separation, just as people do upon attaining wisdom. Surrounded by those freed from sorrow, the Lord Acyuta shone forth even more brightly, like a person empowered by his energies. Krishna, taking the gopīs with him, entered the sandy bank of the Yamunā, blooming with jasmine and mandāra flowers, fragrant breezes swirling, and bees humming all around. The place was auspicious, its darkness dispelled by a mass of autumn moonbeams, with Krishna’s restless hand, and sand soft and bright. Their hearts, relieved of pain by the joy of seeing him—as the Vedas reach their goal—prepared a seat for their beloved with their own upper garments, marked with the red of their breasts. Seated there, the Lord, the master, assumed a seat in the hearts of the yogis, shining among the assembly of gopīs, worshipped, bearing a form that is the single abode of the fortune of the three worlds. Honoring him, the kindler of desire, with laughter, playful glances, and expressive brows, they touched his feet with their hands placed on his lap, and, praising him, spoke with slight feigned anger: The gopīs asked, “One who loves is loved in return by one, another does the opposite; some do not love either. Please tell us, O noble one, which is right?” The Blessed Lord replied, “Those who love each other for their own benefit are friends, but there is no true affection or righteousness there, for it is only for self-interest. Those who love those who do not love them, like compassionate parents, act without fault; here, affection and virtue are excellent. Some do not love even those who love them, let alone those who do not; for they are self-satisfied, fulfilled in themselves, ungrateful, and disrespectful to their elders. But I, O friends, do not love even those who love me for their devotion; just as a poor man, upon gaining wealth and then losing it, absorbed in its thought, knows nothing else. Thus, you, weak ones, have abandoned worldly and scriptural duties for my sake, to serve me; though you worship me directly, I hide myself, so you should not resent this, O beloveds. I am unable to repay your flawless devotion, even with the lifespan of the gods; those who have loved me, breaking the hard chains of home, let their virtuous deeds be your reward.” Thus concludes the thirty-second chapter, named ‘The Consolation of the Gopīs,’ in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, the scripture of the supreme swan. Krishna continued, “When devotion in the form of yoga is directed toward Bhagavan Vasudeva, it quickly gives rise to detachment and knowledge that leads to realization of Brahman. When a person’s mind, through the functions of the senses, does not accept any distinction among objects—whether pleasant or unpleasant—then, at that very moment, he perceives himself by himself as unattached, seeing all equally, free from acceptance and rejection, and established in the supreme state. Pure knowledge alone is the supreme Brahman, the Supreme Self, the Lord, the Person; Bhagavan is perceived as one, though appearing as distinct through objects of perception and so forth. To this extent alone, through complete yoga, does the yogi attain the desired goal here: that is, total detachment from all things. The one knowledge, by the outward-turned senses, appears—through illusion—in the form of objects, as Brahman without qualities, taking on the characteristics of sound and so on. Just as the great principle, in the form of ego, becomes threefold and fivefold, self-ruling, and its elevenfold form is the cosmic egg from which the world arises—this, indeed, is seen by one who, with faith and devotion, practices yoga constantly, whose mind is collected, who is unattached, and who sees with detachment. Thus has been spoken this profound knowledge, which is the vision of Brahman, by which one discerns the reality of both prakriti and purusha. Just as an object, though possessing many qualities, is not divided because it is perceived through the separate gates of the senses, so too is Bhagavan, though approached by various scriptural paths. By action, by sacrifices, by gifts, by austerity, by study, by self-restraint, by mastery over the senses and mind, and by renunciation of actions; by yoga with its various limbs, and indeed by the yoga of devotion, by dharma marked by both activity and renunciation, one who is engaged in both—through realization of the truth of the self, and by firm detachment, Bhagavan is attained by these means, both with qualities and without, by one who sees with his own self. I have described to you the fourfold nature of bhakti-yoga, and also that which, when time has entered the unmanifest, disappears among living beings—the many cycles of transmigration of the living being, created by ignorance and action, into which the self enters, yet does not know its own path. This should never be taught to the wicked, nor to the undisciplined, nor to the arrogant, nor to the hostile, nor to those who are only outwardly religious. It should not be taught to the greedy, nor to one whose mind is absorbed in household life, nor ever to one who is not devoted to me, nor even to those who hate my devotees. But to one who is faithful, devoted, disciplined, free from envy, friendly to all beings, and eager to serve—let this be given to one who is outwardly detached, whose mind is peaceful, who is free from envy, pure, and for whom I am the dearest among the dear. O mother, any person who even once hears this with faith, or who recites it with mind fixed on me, surely attains my path.” Thus, the Lord spoke, consoling the gopīs and revealing the profound wisdom of devotion, detachment, and knowledge, assuring them that their love, pure and selfless, was beyond any reward he could offer, and that those who listen with faith to these teachings would surely find their way to him.