A terrifying figure, dark as a thundercloud, with wide, glaring eyes, a monstrous mouth, and a massive neck, moved with evil intent toward Nanda’s Vraja. This was Keśī, sent to aid Kaṁsa in his wicked designs. As he entered the cowherd village, his thunderous neighing and the stormy winds whipped up by his tail struck fear into the hearts of all, making Vraja tremble. But the Lord Krishna, leader of the cowherds, stood forth and, roaring like a lion, challenged the demon. Keśī, filled with rage, charged straight at Krishna, who was at that moment engaged in a sacrifice. The demon seemed as though he would swallow the very sky, and with his fierce, unbearable speed, he struck the lotus-eyed Lord with his hooves. But Krishna, the Unmanifest Lord, feigned anger to deceive the demon. With both arms, he seized Keśī, whirled him about by the legs, and hurled him a hundred bow-lengths away, just as Garuda might fling a serpent. Regaining his senses, Keśī rose again, now even more enraged. He rushed at Krishna with his mouth wide open. But Krishna, smiling, thrust his arm into the demon’s jaws, as easily as a serpent enters its hole. The touch of Krishna’s arm shattered Keśī’s teeth like heated iron, and as the Lord’s arm expanded within him like a mighty iron bar, the demon’s breath was choked, his limbs flailed, and his body was drenched in sweat. His eyes rolled, blood poured from his mouth, and lifeless, he collapsed to the ground. From that body, which now resembled a withered crab-apple fruit, Krishna withdrew his arm—calm, unastonished, and without pride at his effortless victory. The gods, filled with wonder, showered him with flowers in celebration. At that moment, O King, the foremost of devotees, the divine sage Nārada, approached Krishna and spoke to him in secret, recognizing the purity of the Lord’s actions. He addressed Krishna with reverence: “Krishna, Krishna, O unfathomable Self, Lord of yoga, Lord of the universe, O Vāsudeva, abode of all, foremost among the Sātvatas, O Master! You are the Self within all beings, the one light among the wise, hidden in the heart’s cave, the witness, the Supreme Person, the Lord. By your own power, you are your own refuge. In the beginning, through your māyā, you created the guṇas, and with them, O Lord of true resolve, you create, sustain, and dissolve the world. “Therefore, you have descended to earth to remove its burdens—the demons, tormentors, and Rākṣasas—and to protect the virtuous. By great fortune, you have now slain this demon in the form of a horse, whose neighing terrified even the gods and drove the sleepless ones from heaven. Soon, O Lord, I shall see you defeat Cāṇūra, Muṣṭika, and other wrestlers, the elephant, and at last Kaṁsa himself. After that, I shall witness you vanquish Śaṅkha, Yavana, Murā, and Naraka; seize the Pārijāta tree and humble Indra. I shall see your marriages to heroic maidens, won by your valor and virtues, and your liberation of King Nṛga from his curse in Dvārakā. “You will obtain the Syamantaka jewel and its wife, restore the dead son to the Brahmin, slay Pauṇḍraka, burn Kāśī, destroy Dantavakra, and kill Śiśupāla at the great sacrifice. And whatever other wondrous deeds you perform while residing in Dvārakā, I shall witness them, for they are sung by poets throughout the earth. Now, I await the destruction of these armies by Him who is Time personified, with Arjuna as His charioteer. “We meditate upon you, O Lord, who are dense with pure knowledge, established in your own nature, whose every purpose is fulfilled, whose desires never fail, who by your own splendor is ever free from illusion, and who is the source of all qualities. I bow to you, Lord, refuge of all, who by your own māyā have created all distinctions, and who, for the sake of play, have assumed a human form, the foremost among the Yadus, Vṛṣṇis, and Sātvatas.” Śuka continued: Thus, after bowing to Krishna, the chief of the Yadus, the great sage, having been permitted, departed, delighted by the blessed vision he had received. Krishna, Govinda, having slain Keśī in battle, returned to tending the cows with the joyful cowherds, filling Vraja with happiness. One day, as the cowherds grazed their cattle on the slopes of the mountain, they began to play a game. Some played as thieves, some as cowherds, and some as sheep, all enjoying themselves, fearless and carefree. Among them, Vyoma, the son of Maya and master of illusion, disguised himself as a cowherd. Pretending to be the leader of the sheep, he led away many who played as thieves. The great demon, having separated them, cast them into a mountain cave, leaving only four or five behind, and blocked the entrance with a huge rock. Krishna, ever the refuge of the virtuous, recognized Vyoma’s wicked deed. He seized the demon as he was leading away more cowherds, just as a lion seizes a wolf. Vyoma then assumed his true, massive form, towering like a great mountain, and tried with all his might to escape. But overpowered by Krishna, he could not break free. Acyuta subdued him with his arms, hurled him to the ground, and, as the gods watched from the heavens, killed the cattle-slaying demon. Breaking open the cave’s entrance, Krishna released the trapped cowherds, though it took some effort. Praised by the gods and the cowherds alike, Krishna returned to his beloved Vraja. Thus ends the thirty-seventh chapter, “The Slaying of Vyomāsura,” in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Śuka continued: Meanwhile, Akrūra, the wise one, spent the night in Mathurā. At dawn, he mounted his chariot and set out for Nanda’s Gokula. As he traveled, devotion to the Lord with lotus eyes welled up in his heart, and he pondered deeply: “What good deed have I done, what great austerity have I performed, or what worthy gift have I given, that today I shall behold Keśava? To see the Lord of such excellent fame is most rare for one like me, just as the chanting of Brahman is rare for one born as a śūdra, attached to sense objects. “May it not be that even for one as fallen as myself, the vision of Acyuta is denied, for sometimes, even one swept away by the river of Time manages to cross over. Today, my misfortune is destroyed and my life has borne fruit, for I bow to the lotus feet of the Lord, which are the object of meditation for yogis.