This is the story as revealed in the sacred verses: Those who practice yoga with unwavering faith and devotion, whose minds are collected and unattached, who see the world with detachment, perceive the truth directly. To such seekers, the profound knowledge—the vision of Brahman—has been spoken. Through this wisdom, one discerns the true nature of both prakriti and purusha, matter and spirit. Just as an object, though possessing many qualities, remains undivided even as it is perceived through the separate gates of the senses, so too is Bhagavan. Though approached by many different scriptural paths, He remains whole and undivided. Bhagavan is attained by many means: through action, sacrifices, gifts, austerity, study, self-restraint, mastery over the senses and mind, and renunciation of actions. Through yoga in all its limbs, especially the yoga of devotion, through dharma marked by both activity and renunciation—one who is engaged in both finds the way. By realizing the truth of the self and cultivating firm detachment, Bhagavan is reached, whether one approaches Him as possessing qualities or as beyond them, by one who sees with his own self. The fourfold nature of bhakti-yoga has been described, as well as that which, when time enters the unmanifest, disappears among living beings. The living soul, caught in ignorance and action, undergoes many cycles of transmigration, entering various bodies, yet never knowing its own path. This sacred teaching should never be given to the wicked, the undisciplined, the arrogant, the hostile, or those who are only outwardly religious. Nor should it be taught to the greedy, to those absorbed in household life, to those lacking devotion to me, or to those who hate my devotees. But to the faithful, devoted, disciplined, free from envy, friendly to all beings, and eager to serve—to such a one should this knowledge be given. Let it be shared with those who are outwardly detached, whose minds are peaceful, free from envy and pure, and for whom I am the dearest among the dear. O mother, anyone who even once hears this with faith, or who recites it with their mind fixed on me, surely attains my path. Śrī Śuka continued: Having heard these most beautiful words of the Lord, the cowherd women were released from the pain of separation; their desires were fulfilled by his presence. There, Govinda began the rāsa play, surrounded by devoted and joyful women, the finest among them, their arms entwined with one another. The festival of rāsa commenced, adorned by the circle of gopīs, with Kṛṣṇa, the lord of yogis, standing between each pair. Entering among them, he drew the women close by the neck; those who witnessed this might imagine the sky crowded with hundreds of flying palaces. The gods, along with their wives, watched eagerly; then drums sounded, showers of flowers fell, and the lords of the Gandharvas sang his spotless glory with their wives. In the rāsa circle arose a tumultuous sound from the bracelets, anklets, and bells of the women, together with their beloveds. Among them, the Lord, son of Devakī, shone exceedingly, like a great emerald among golden gems. With the stamping of feet, the waving of arms, smiling glances, playful movements of brows, swaying earrings brushing their cheeks, loosened hair braids damp with sweat, the wives of Kṛṣṇa sang; they shone like lightning within a circle of clouds. Dancing, their voices raised, their throats flushed with passion, delighted by Kṛṣṇa's touch, the beloveds sang, filling the place with their song. One, together with Mukunda, skillfully blended her singing with his, and being honored by him with affection and praised as "well done, well done," she sang again and again, and he showed her great favor. One, exhausted from the rāsa, rested her arm, with loosened bracelet and jasmine garland, upon the shoulder of the mace-bearer who stood beside her. One, taking Kṛṣṇa's arm, fragrant with blue lotus and smeared with sandalwood, to her nose, thrilled with joy, kissed it. Another, her cheek adorned with the gleam of earrings tossed by her dancing, pressed her cheek to his and offered him betel she had chewed. One, dancing and singing, her anklets and girdle ringing, weary, placed the lotus hand of Acyuta, who stood beside her, upon her breasts for comfort. The gopīs, having gained Acyuta as their beloved, the exclusive consort of Śrī, embraced him around the neck with their arms and, singing, enjoyed with him. With lotus earrings, locks of hair, cheeks shining with sweat, faces radiant, and the music of bracelets and anklets, the gopīs danced together with the Lord, their garlands loosened in their hair, in the company of bees singing in the cowherd's grove. Thus, with embraces, touches of the hand, affectionate glances, exuberant playful smiles and laughter, the Lord of Lakshmi delighted with the beautiful women of Vraja, just as a child delights in his own reflected image. Their senses overwhelmed with joy from contact with his limbs, the women of Vraja—hair, garments, or breastbands loosened—could not properly gather up what had fallen, O best of the Kurus, their garlands and ornaments slipping down. Seeing Krishna's playful sports, the celestial women in the sky became bewildered, overcome by desire; even the moon, along with his retinue, was astonished. Assuming as many forms as there were cowherd women, the Blessed Lord, though self-satisfied, enjoyed with them all by his own playful will. When they became tired from excessive play, he, compassionate and loving, gently wiped their faces with his peaceful hand, O dear one. The gopis, 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 those women, their garlands crushed and smeared with the saffron from their breasts, he entered the forest, followed by hosts of Gandharvas, just as a weary 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 from all sides, and praised by the celestial beings showering flowers, he, the self-delighting Lord, sported like the king of elephants. Then, in Krishna's grove, on land and water, where the directions were filled with the fragrance of 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, he, true to his word and surrounded by loving women, enjoyed with them, his passion absorbed within himself, savoring the poetic essence of the autumn season. At this point, King Parikshit spoke: To establish righteousness and subdue unrighteousness, the Lord of the universe descends in person. Thus ends this sacred narrative, flowing from the verses, revealing the divine play and the profound teachings of Bhagavan.