O Lord of the world, your wondrous deeds are sung by all. You won your marriages to heroic maidens through feats of valor and other noble qualities, and you liberated King Nṛga from his curse in Dvārakā. You obtained the Syamantaka jewel along with its keeper, and, with your own power, restored the dead son to the grieving Brahmin by bringing him from your divine abode. You slew Pauṇḍraka, burned the city of Kāśī, destroyed Dantavakra, and brought about the end of Śiśupāla at the great sacrifice. All these and countless other heroic acts you performed while residing in Dvārakā, O Lord—deeds that poets on earth never tire of praising. Now, the time has come to witness yet another marvel: the destruction of these assembled armies by Him who is Time personified—the ultimate annihilator—with Arjuna as His charioteer. Upon this, we meditate on the Lord, dense with pure knowledge, ever established in His own nature, whose will is always fulfilled, whose desires never fail, who, by His own splendor, is untouched by illusion, and from whom all the qualities of existence flow. To you, Lord, I bow—the refuge of all beings—who, by your power of illusion, have created all distinctions, and who, for the sake of divine play, have assumed a human form, standing foremost among the Yadus, Vṛṣṇis, and Sātvatas. After offering such reverent praise and bowing to Kṛṣṇa, chief of the Yadus, the sage, foremost among devotees, received permission and departed, filled with delight at the vision he had beheld. Meanwhile, Lord Govinda, having slain the demon Keśin in battle, tended the cows with the joyful cowherds, bringing happiness to the land of Vraja. One day, as the cowherds grazed their cattle on the mountain slopes, they played a lively game, dividing themselves into teams of thieves and protectors. Some played as thieves, some as cowherds, and others as sheep; all played together, carefree and fearless. Among them, Vyoma—the son of Maya and master of illusion—disguised himself as a cowherd and, acting as the leader of the sheep, gradually led away many who played as thieves. This great demon, having led them far, cast them into a mountain cave, leaving only four or five outside, and sealed the entrance with a massive rock. Perceiving this wicked deed, Kṛṣṇa, the protector of the virtuous, seized the demon as he was leading away more cowherds, just as a lion would seize a wolf. Vyoma then assumed his own gigantic, mountain-like form and tried to escape, but, overpowered by the Lord, he could not break free. Acyuta subdued him with his mighty arms, threw him to the ground, and, as the gods watched from the heavens, killed the slayer of cattle. Breaking open the cave’s entrance, Kṛṣṇa released the trapped cowherds with great effort; praised by both the gods and the cowherds, he returned to his beloved Vraja. Thus concludes the thirty-seventh chapter, entitled “The Slaying of Vyomāsura,” in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Now, Śuka continued: Akrūra, the wise and devoted, spent the night in Mathurā. At dawn, he mounted his chariot and set out for Nanda’s Gokula. As he traveled the road, his heart blossomed with devotion for the Lord with lotus eyes, and he reflected deeply: “What great merit have I earned, what austerity have I performed, or what worthy gift have I given, that today I shall behold Keśava? This vision of the Lord, famed in all the worlds, is most rare for me—just as the chanting of the sacred Brahman is rare for one born as a śūdra, attached to sense pleasures. May it not be that, even for one as fallen as myself, the vision of Acyuta is denied; for sometimes, even someone being swept away by the river of Time manages to cross over. “Today, my misfortune is destroyed and my life has borne fruit, for I shall bow to the lotus feet of the Lord, which are the object of meditation for yogis. Indeed, today even Kaṁsa has shown me the greatest favor, for I will see the lotus feet of Hari, who has descended as an incarnation, whose nails once dispelled the impenetrable darkness that even the ancients could not cross. “Those sacred feet, worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, and other gods, by the goddess Śrī, by sages, and by the Sātvatas—those feet that wander the forest with his companions tending the cows, and are marked with the saffron from the gopīs’ breasts—these I shall behold. Surely, I will see Mukunda’s face, with its beautiful cheeks and nose, smiling and glancing with reddish lotus eyes, framed by curling locks, around which deer seem to circumambulate. “Perhaps today my eyes will attain their true purpose by beholding Viṣṇu, who has assumed human form by his own will to relieve the earth’s burden, and who is the very abode of beauty. He, whom I am about to see, though free from ego and duality, dispels ignorance by his own radiance; by his māyā he is perceived in the homes of all beings, through their life, senses, and intellect. “His words, filled with auspicious qualities, deeds, and birth, destroy all inauspiciousness, enliven, purify, and sanctify the world; those who are indifferent to them are like beautiful corpses—alive in appearance, yet lifeless within. He has descended in the lineage of the Sātvatas, bringing joy to the best of the gods, spreading his fame, and dwelling in Vraja, where 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, bearing a form that is the cherished abode of Śrī, with my own eyes at the break of dawn. Then, as he descends from the chariot with the Lord, I shall obtain for myself those feet that even yogis hold in their hearts; I shall bow to them, as will his friends and the dwellers of the forest. “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. It is by that touch that Viśvāmitra and Bali, having worshipped him, attained the lordship of the three worlds; or, in play, he removed the fatigue of the women of Vraja by the touch of his fragrant hand. “Acyuta, who sees all, will not regard me with enmity, even though I am Kaṁsa’s messenger; for he, the knower of all, perceives with pure vision everything done within and without, by the mind. Perhaps he will look upon me, fallen at his feet with folded hands, with a gentle, smiling, compassionate gaze; and at once, all my sins will be destroyed, and I shall know great, fearless joy. “Then, the best of friends, my kinsman, my only deity, will embrace me with his broad arms; and in that very moment, I will be sanctified, and my bondage, born of karma, will be dispelled. When I, bowing with folded hands, attain the touch of his limbs, he, O Akrūra, will speak to me; for even though we are born as humans, if we are not honored by him, such a birth is truly to be lamented. “He has no one as dearest, no best friend, nor anyone unloved, hated, or neglected; yet, just as the wish-fulfilling tree gives to all who approach it, so does he favor his devotees.” Thus, with heart full of longing and devotion, Akrūra journeyed on, eager for his blessed meeting with the Lord.