Sudarshana, reflecting on his fate, spoke with gratitude: “The curse pronounced by those compassionate sages was, in truth, a blessing for me. For when the foot of the Supreme Teacher of the world touched me, all my misfortune was dispelled. Now, freed from that curse, I turn to you—you who bring fearlessness to those terrified by worldly existence and who grant refuge to the distressed. Please permit me to depart, having received the grace of your touch. I have taken shelter in you, O great yogi, O Supreme Person, O Lord of the virtuous. Grant me leave, O Lord, master of all worlds and their rulers. By beholding you, O infallible one, I am instantly freed from Brahma’s punishment. Your very name purifies all who hear it and the one who utters it; how much more so, then, is one purified by the touch of your foot.” Having received Krishna’s permission, Sudarshana reverently circled him, offered obeisance, and ascended to heaven. Nanda, too, was freed from his distress. The residents of Vraja, witnessing Krishna’s divine power, were filled with astonishment and wonder. Their hearts brimming with joy, they completed their observances and returned to Vraja, eagerly recounting the miraculous events. On another night, Govinda and Rama, both possessing wondrous strength, delighted themselves in the forest, surrounded by the women of Vraja. They were adorned and anointed, garlanded and clothed in spotless garments. The women, bound to them in deep friendship, sang sweetly to the brothers. As night fell, with the stars and moon rising, the air was perfumed with jasmine and the hum of intoxicated bees, carried by breezes from lotus-filled ponds. Together they sang, weaving melodies and harmonies that blessed the minds and ears of all living beings. The gopis, hearing these songs, became faint and lost all self-awareness; their garments slipped, their hair and garlands loosened as they were overcome by ecstasy. In this mood of delight, as they played and sang, Shankhachuda—a Yaksha renowned as a follower of Kubera—approached. Seeing the women gathered and crying out, Shankhachuda, while Krishna and Rama watched, began to drive the gopis northward without hesitation. Hearing the cries of “Krishna! Rama!” and seeing their companions seized, Krishna and Rama rushed after the Yaksha, as brothers would pursue a thief who has stolen their cows. Calling out, “Do not fear!” in reassuring voices, the two powerful brothers, armed with clubs, swiftly chased the wicked Yaksha. Seeing Krishna and Balarama approach like Death and Time itself, the foolish Yaksha abandoned the women and fled, desperate to save his life. Govinda pursued him relentlessly, intent on seizing the jewel from his head, while Balarama stayed behind to protect the women. Catching up to the fleeing Yaksha, Krishna struck him mightily on the head, killed him, and took the radiant crest jewel and its companion gem. With affection, Krishna gave the jewel to his elder brother, Balarama, as the women looked on. Later, as days passed, the gopis’ hearts remained with Krishna. As Shuka narrated, “The gopis, their minds following Krishna as he led the cows to pasture, spent their days in sorrow, singing of his wondrous pastimes.” The gopis would say, “Where Mukunda plays his flute, holding it to his lips with his left hand, his left cheek pressed against his left arm, his brows dancing and his delicate fingers tracing the melody’s path—there, he calls us. Even the wives of the gods and the Siddhas are astonished as they listen; bashful and bewildered by love, they forget themselves and their garments. O friends, listen! When the son of Nanda, who brings joy to the suffering, plays his flute, a garland and a smile shine on his chest like a steady flash of lightning. The bulls of Vraja, the deer, and the cows, captivated by the sound of his flute, stand motionless and silent, as if painted, with mouthfuls of grass forgotten and ears attentive. Sometimes, adorned with peacock feathers, colored minerals, and leaves, Mukunda imitates a wrestler’s attire as he calls the cows with his friends. The rivers, carried by breezes bearing dust from his lotus feet, long for him as we do; their waters stilled, their banks trembling with love, they are blessed by many merits. When he, the original person, praised by his companions for his valor, wanders the forest and calls the cows with his flute along the mountain slopes, the forest creepers and trees, laden with flowers and fruits, seem to manifest Vishnu within themselves. Their branches bow with honey, and their trunks thrill with love, blossoming in his presence. Adorned with tilaka, a garland of forest flowers, divine fragrance, and honey-laden tulasi, when he plays, the bees, intoxicated, sing their own song in his honor. In the lakes, cranes, swans, and other birds, captivated by his beautiful music, approach Hari, closing their eyes in silent worship. With his companions, adorned with garlands and ornaments, he delights the cowherd women with the sound of his flute on the slopes of the hills, and joy pervades the world. The clouds, careful not to overshadow his beauty, softly rumble and shower flowers, forming a gentle canopy for him. Expert in tending the cows and skilled in flute playing, your son, when he places the flute to his lips, brings forth melodies of his own creation. Hearing this, even the gods—Indra, Shiva, Brahma, and the sages—bow their heads and minds, bewildered and unable to comprehend the truth. The cows, their hoofs marked with flag, thunderbolt, lotus, and goad, soothe the earth of Vraja, covering its wounds as they dance in delight to his flute. As he passes, we are overcome by his playful glances and the desire awakened in our hearts; we wander about in confusion, not knowing if our hair or garments are in disarray. Sometimes, adorned with a fragrant garland of tulasi, he counts the cows, placing his arm on a dear friend’s shoulder, singing as he walks. The wives of Krishna, deceived by the sound of his flute, follow him with hearts absorbed in his virtues, just as the deer follow him, freed from attachment to their homes. Welcomed with garlands of jasmine and festive attire, surrounded by cowherds and cattle on the banks of the Yamuna, Nanda’s son, your beloved child, delights his friends’ hearts with playful pastimes. A gentle breeze, fragrant with sandalwood, blows to honor him, and groups of celestial singers encircle him with music, song, and offerings, praising him as he moves among his devotees.” Thus did the gopis and all of Vraja celebrate Krishna’s divine presence, their hearts ever absorbed in his enchanting pastimes.