As the armies gathered for battle, one sage, his vision clear, declared, “Now, I shall witness the destruction of these armies by Him who is Time personified—the annihilator—whose charioteer is Arjuna.” With reverence, he contemplated the Lord: dense with pure knowledge, established in His own nature, whose every purpose is fulfilled, whose desires never fail, who, by His own splendor, is ever free from illusion, and who is the source from which all qualities flow. Bowing deeply, he addressed the Lord: “O refuge of all, by Your own power of illusion You have created all distinctions. For the sake of play, You have assumed a human form, and among the Yadus, Vṛṣṇis, and Sātvatas, You stand foremost.” Thus, having offered his respects to Krishna, chief of the Yadus, the sage—foremost among devotees—departed, delighted by the vision he had received. Meanwhile, 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 game of hiding, dividing themselves into teams of thieves and protectors. Some played as thieves, others as cowherds, and some as sheep; together, they enjoyed their play, fearless and carefree. Into this innocent scene came Vyoma, the son of Maya and master of illusion. Disguised as a cowherd, he acted as the leader of the sheep and cunningly led away many who played as thieves. The great demon, having taken them, cast them into a mountain cave, leaving only four or five outside, and blocked the entrance with a rock. Krishna, the giver of refuge to the virtuous, recognized Vyoma’s deed. As the demon was leading the cowherds away, Krishna seized him, just as a lion seizes a wolf. Vyoma then assumed his own form, massive as a great mountain, striving to escape, but was overpowered and could not free himself. Acyuta subdued the demon with His arms, threw him to the ground, and, as the gods watched from the heavens, slew the slayer of cattle. He then broke open the cave's entrance and released the cowherds, though with difficulty. Praised by both gods and cowherds, Krishna returned to His beloved Vraja. Thus concludes 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. The story continues. Śuka said: Akrūra, wise and devoted, spent the night in Mathurā. At dawn, mounting his chariot, he set out for Nanda’s Gokula. As he traveled, his heart stirred with devotion for the Lord with lotus eyes, and he reflected: “What good deed have I performed, what great austerity practiced, or what worthy gift given, that today I shall behold Keśava?” Akrūra considered this vision of the Lord, famed and rare, to be a most precious blessing—just as chanting Brahman is rare for one born as a śūdra, attached to sense objects. “May it not be,” he prayed, “that even for one as fallen as myself, the vision of Acyuta is denied; for sometimes, even someone swept away by the river of Time manages to cross over.” He continued, “Today my misfortune is destroyed and my existence has borne fruit, for I bow to the lotus feet of the Lord, which are the object of meditation for yogis. Indeed, today Kaṁsa has shown me the utmost favor, for I shall see the lotus feet of Hari, who has descended as an incarnation. The radiance of His nails once dispelled the impenetrable darkness that even the ancients could not cross.” He remembered those feet, worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, and other gods, by the goddess Śrī, by sages, and by the Sātvatas, which wander in the forest with His companions tending the cows, and are marked with the saffron of the gopīs’ breasts. “Surely I shall behold Mukunda’s face,” he thought, “with its beautiful cheeks and nose, its smiling, glancing, reddish lotus eyes, covered with curling locks, around which deer move in circumambulation.” “Perhaps today my eyes will attain the fruit of 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 the darkness of ignorance by His own radiance; by His māyā, He is perceived in the homes of beings through their life, senses, and intellect.” Akrūra pondered, “His words, mixed with auspicious qualities, deeds, and birth, destroy all inauspiciousness, enliven, purify, and sanctify the world; those who are indifferent to them are but beautiful corpses. He has descended in the lineage of the Sātvatas, bringing joy to the best of the gods who guard their own realms; spreading His fame, the Lord dwells in Vraja, where the gods sing His all-auspicious deeds.” “Today, surely, I shall see Him—the goal of the great, the teacher, the delight of the three worlds, the festival for the eyes, bearing a form that is the desired abode of Śrī—with my own eyes at the break of dawn. Then, as He descends from the chariot along with the Lord, I shall obtain for myself the feet that even yogis hold in their minds; I shall bow to them, as will His friends and the dwellers of the forest.” “Perhaps the Lord will place His 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 Kauśika (Viśvāmitra) and Bali, having offered worship, 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.” Akrūra’s faith was unwavering: “Acyuta, who sees all, will not regard me with enmity, even though I am Kaṁsa’s messenger; for He, the knower of the field, perceives with pure vision all that is 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 bear great, fearless joy.” He imagined, “Then, the best of friends, my kinsman, my only deity, will embrace me with His broad arms; for at that very moment, He sanctifies me, and my bondage, born of karma, is dispelled. When I, bowing with folded hands, attain the touch of His limbs, He, O Akrūra, will speak to me; then, though we are born as humans, we are not honored by Him—the birth of such a one is indeed to be condemned.” “He has no dearest, no best friend, nor anyone unloved, hated, or neglected; yet, just as the wish-fulfilling tree gives to those who approach it, so does He favor His devotees.” And indeed, the eldest and foremost among the Yadus, smiling, embraced Akrūra, who had bowed with folded hands, led him into the house where all honors had been arranged, and inquired about the troubles caused by Kamsa among his relatives. Śuka continued: Thus reflecting on Krishna, the son of Śvaphalka, while traveling, arrived at Gokula by chariot, just as the sun reaches the western mountain. In the cowherd settlement, he saw the footprints of the one whose dust is worn by all the rulers of the worlds upon their crowns, distinguished by marks such as the lotus, barleycorn, and goad. Filled with joy and reverent excitement at that sight, his eyes overwhelmed with tears and his hair standing on end from love, Akrūra descended from the chariot and moved among them, exclaiming, “Ah! These are the dust of the Lord’s feet!