You are the Self within all beings, the single radiance shining among the wise, hidden deep in the cave of each heart, the silent witness, the Supreme Person, the Lord of all. By Your own Self, You are Your own refuge. In the beginning, through Your wondrous power, You created the qualities of nature, and with them, O Lord of true resolve, You bring forth, sustain, and dissolve this world. Thus, You have descended to earth for a great purpose: to remove its burdens by destroying the demons, tormentors, and Rākṣasas, and to protect the virtuous. By Your grace, the demon who took the form of a horse and whose terrifying neighing drove the gods from heaven—he has been slain by You, as if in play. Soon, O Lord, I know I shall witness You vanquish Cāṇūra, Muṣṭika, other mighty wrestlers, the great elephant, and the wicked Kaṃsa. After that, I shall see the defeat of Śaṅkha, Yavana, Murā, and Naraka, the wondrous theft of the Pārijāta tree, and even the humbling of Indra himself. Your valor will win You the hands of heroic maidens in marriage, and You will liberate King Nṛga from his curse in Dvārakā, O Lord of the world. You will obtain the Syamantaka jewel and its noble consort, and restore a Brahmin’s dead son from Your own divine abode. I shall see You slay Pauṇḍraka, burn the city of Kāśī, destroy Dantavakra, and bring about the death of Śiśupāla at the great sacrifice. And whatever other wondrous deeds You perform while residing in Dvārakā, O Lord, I shall witness them all—deeds that poets sing across the earth. Now, before my very eyes, I shall behold the destruction of these assembled armies by Him who is Time itself, the all-consuming force, with Arjuna as His charioteer. We meditate upon that Lord, whose being is dense with pure knowledge, established in His own nature, whose every wish is fulfilled and whose desires never fail, who is forever free from illusion by His own splendor, and from whom the qualities of nature flow. I bow to You, the Supreme Lord, the refuge of all, who by Your own power of illusion have created all distinctions, and who, for the sake of divine play, have assumed a human form—the foremost among the Yadus, Vṛṣṇis, and Sātvatas. Śuka then said: After thus offering his reverent salutations to Kṛṣṇa, the chief of the Yadus and the foremost sage among devotees, the sage, having been permitted, departed, his heart delighted by the vision he had received. Meanwhile, Lord Govinda, having slain the demon Keśin in battle, returned to tend the cows with the joyful cowherd boys, bringing happiness to the land of Vraja. One day, as the cowherds grazed their cattle on the mountain slopes, they began to play a lively game, dividing into teams of thieves and protectors. Some played the role of thieves, some as cowherds, and others as sheep; all played together, fearless and full of joy. Among them, Vyoma, the son of Maya and master of illusion, disguised himself as a cowherd. Taking charge of those playing as sheep, he slyly led away many who pretended to be thieves. The great demon, having separated them, cast the children into a mountain cave, leaving only four or five outside, and sealed the entrance with a heavy rock. Perceiving this evil deed, Kṛṣṇa, the refuge of the virtuous, seized Vyoma as he tried to spirit away more boys, just as a lion seizes a wolf. Vyoma then assumed his true, vast form, massive as a mountain, and struggled to break free. But, overpowered by Kṛṣṇa, he could not escape. With mighty arms, Acyuta subdued him, threw him to the ground, and, as the gods watched from heaven, killed that slayer of cattle. Breaking open the cave’s entrance, Kṛṣṇa released the trapped cowherd boys, though it took great effort. Praised by the gods and the cowherds, He 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: Akrūra, the wise and devout, spent that night in Mathurā. At dawn, he mounted his chariot and set out for Nanda’s Gokula. As he journeyed along the road, his heart awakened with devotion for the Lord with lotus eyes, and he reflected within himself: “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? For me, the vision of the Lord, famed throughout the worlds, is most rare—just as the chanting of Brahman is rare for one born as a śūdra, attached to sense objects. Yet, may it not be that even one as fallen as I am is denied the sight of Acyuta; for sometimes, even one being swept away by the river of Time manages to cross over. Today my misfortune is destroyed, my life has found its purpose, for I shall bow to the Lord’s lotus feet, the object of meditation for yogis. Indeed, today Kaṃsa has unwittingly bestowed his greatest favor upon me, for I shall see the lotus feet of Hari, who has descended as an incarnation—whose very toenails once dispelled a darkness impenetrable even to the ancients. Those feet, worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, and all the gods, by the goddess Śrī, by sages, and by the Sātvatas, which wander in the forest with His companions tending the cows, and are tinged with the saffron from the gopīs’ breasts. Surely I shall behold Mukunda’s face, with its beautiful cheeks and nose, smiling glances, reddish lotus eyes, framed by curling locks, around which deer move in gentle circumambulation. Perhaps today my eyes will attain the supreme fruit—beholding Viṣṇu Himself, who has taken human form by His own will to relieve the earth’s burden, the very embodiment of beauty. He, whom I am about to see, though untouched by ego or duality, dispels the darkness of ignorance by His own radiance. Through His māyā, He is perceived in the hearts of beings, through their life, senses, and intellect. His words, filled with auspicious qualities, His deeds and birth, destroy all inauspiciousness, enliven, purify, and sanctify the world. Those who are indifferent to them, though beautiful, are like corpses. He has indeed descended in the lineage of the Sātvatas, bringing joy to the best of the gods who guard their realms. His fame spreads everywhere, and in Vraja, the gods sing of His all-auspicious deeds. Today, surely, I shall see Him—the goal of the great, the supreme teacher, the delight of the three worlds, a festival for the eyes, the very abode of Śrī, with my own eyes at dawn. Then, as He descends from the chariot with the Lord, I shall attain those feet that even yogis hold in their minds. I shall bow to them, as will His friends and all the forest dwellers. Perhaps the Lord will place His own lotus hand upon my head as I fall at His feet, granting fearlessness to those terrified by the serpent of Time and seeking refuge.” With such thoughts filling his heart, Akrūra pressed onward, eager for the blessed vision of the Lord.