In the beginning, the great cosmic principle, known as mahat, took form as ego and then unfolded itself in threefold and fivefold ways, becoming self-governing. From its elevenfold manifestation arose the cosmic egg, from which the world itself was born. This profound truth is revealed to one who, with unwavering faith and devotion, practices yoga constantly, whose mind is steady and unattached, and who views the world with detachment and clarity. Such is the vision of Brahman, the supreme reality, by which one discerns the true nature of both prakriti—the material principle—and purusha—the conscious self. Just as an object, though possessing many qualities, is not divided simply because it is perceived through the different gates of the senses, so too is Bhagavan, the Supreme Lord, approached by various scriptural paths yet always one and undivided. The Supreme can be reached through many means: 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. Through yoga in its various forms, and especially through the yoga of devotion, by living a life marked both by activity and renunciation, and through realization of the self and firm detachment, one may attain Bhagavan—whether one seeks him with qualities or without—by seeing with the light of one’s own true self. This is the fourfold nature of bhakti-yoga, devotion, which has now been spoken. It is also that which, when time itself enters the unmanifest, disappears among living beings. The countless cycles of birth and death, born of ignorance and action, are traversed by the living being who, entering these cycles, does not know his own path. Yet, this sacred knowledge should not be given to the wicked, the undisciplined, the arrogant, the hostile, or those who are merely outwardly religious. Nor should it be shared with the greedy, with those wholly absorbed in household life, with those lacking devotion to the Lord, or with those who hate his devotees. But to one who is faithful, devoted, disciplined, free from envy, friendly to all beings, and eager to serve, this teaching should be given. Let it be imparted to one who is outwardly detached, whose mind is peaceful, pure, free of envy, and for whom the Lord is dearest among all. O gentle mother, anyone who even once hears this teaching with faith, or who recites it with a mind fixed on the Lord, surely attains the path that leads to him. Śrī Śuka continued: Thus, when the cowherd women heard these most beautiful and comforting words from the Lord himself, the pain of their separation vanished, and their desires were fulfilled by his presence. There, in the midst of the night and the blossoming forest, Govinda began the splendid rāsa dance, surrounded by the devoted and joyful gopīs, the finest among women, their arms entwined with one another. The festival of rāsa commenced, the circle of gopīs radiant, with Kṛṣṇa, the Lord of yogis, standing between each pair of them, multiplying himself so that each felt his presence uniquely. He entered among them, drawing the women close by the neck, and those who beheld this wondrous sight might imagine the sky itself crowded with hundreds of flying palaces. The gods, accompanied by their wives, were overcome with eagerness and wonder as they watched from the heavens. Drums resounded, flowers showered down, and the lords of the Gandharvas, along with their consorts, sang the flawless glories of the Lord. Within the rāsa circle, a tumultuous melody arose from the bracelets, anklets, and bells of the women, mingling with the sounds of their beloveds. Among them, the Lord, son of Devakī, shone brilliantly, as a great emerald among golden gems. The gopīs, their feet stamping, arms waving, eyes sparkling with smiles and playful glances, their earrings swaying and hair loosened, their braids damp with sweat, sang with joy. They shone like lightning within a circle of clouds. Their voices, raised in song, throats flushed with passion, were delighted by Kṛṣṇa’s touch, and the place was filled with their melodious singing. One gopī, singing with Mukunda, skillfully blended her voice with his. Honored by his affection and praised as “well done, well done,” she sang again and again, and he bestowed his special favor upon her. Another, weary from the dance, rested her arm—her bracelet loosened, her jasmine garland slipping—upon the shoulder of the mighty mace-bearer who stood by her side. One, taking Kṛṣṇa’s fragrant arm, perfumed with blue lotus and sandalwood, to her nose, was so filled with joy that she kissed it. Another, her cheek aglow with the gleam of earrings tossed by her dancing, pressed her face to his and offered him betel she herself had chewed. Yet another, tired from dancing and singing, her anklets and girdle ringing, placed the lotus hand of Acyuta, who stood beside her, upon her breasts for comfort. The gopīs, having gained Acyuta—the exclusive consort of Śrī—as their beloved, embraced him around the neck and, singing, enjoyed his company. Their lotus earrings and locks of hair, cheeks shining with sweat, faces radiant, and the music of bracelets and anklets all around, the gopīs danced together with the Lord. Their garlands loosened in their hair, bees humming in the cowherd’s grove, they were immersed in bliss. With embraces, touches of the hand, loving glances, playful smiles and laughter, the Lord of Lakshmi delighted the beautiful women of Vraja, just as a child delights in his own reflection. Overwhelmed with joy from contact with his limbs, the women of Vraja—hair, garments, and breastbands loosened—could not properly gather what had fallen, their garlands and ornaments slipping down, so enraptured were they. Seeing Kṛṣṇa’s playful sports, the celestial women in the sky became bewildered, overcome by desire, while even the moon and his retinue were astonished at the sight. By his divine will, the Blessed Lord assumed as many forms as there were cowherd women, though he was ever self-content, and enjoyed with them all. When the gopīs became tired from their exuberant play, he, ever compassionate and loving, gently wiped their faces with his peaceful hand. The gopīs, their cheeks adorned by the radiance of golden earrings and hair, with sweet smiles and glances, sang of the glorious deeds of the foremost of men, feeling blessed by the touch of his lotus hands. Surrounded by these women, their garlands crushed and smeared with the saffron from their breasts, he entered the forest, followed by hosts of Gandharvas, just as a mighty elephant, breaking through a dam, enters the water surrounded by female elephants. There, as he was bathed by the young women, gazed upon with love and laughter, and praised by the celestial beings who showered flowers from above, he, the self-delighting Lord, sported like the king of elephants. In Kṛṣṇa’s grove, on land and water scented by flowers, he wandered, surrounded by swarms of joyful women, like a rutting elephant with his female companions. Thus, through nights adorned by the rays of the moon, true to his word and surrounded by loving women, he enjoyed with them, his passion absorbed within himself, savoring the poetic essence of the autumn season.