In the idyllic pastures of Vraja, the cowherd boys delighted in playful games. Some took the roles of thieves, others played as cowherds, and still others pretended to be sheep. Together, they played freely, without fear or care, immersed in innocent joy. Among them, however, lurked Vyoma, the son of Maya and master of illusion. Disguised as a cowherd boy, Vyoma cunningly assumed the part of the leader of the sheep. Seizing the opportunity, he began to lead away many of those boys who played as thieves, separating them from the rest. Once he had lured them far from their companions, the great demon revealed his true intent. He cast the boys into a mountain cave, imprisoning them, and left only four or five outside. Then, with a mighty effort, he blocked the entrance with a heavy rock, trapping the children within. But Krishna, ever the protector of the virtuous and the giver of refuge, saw through Vyoma’s deceit. As the demon attempted to lead away more cowherd boys, Krishna seized him with the strength and swiftness of a lion capturing a wolf. Vyoma, realizing he had been caught, cast off his disguise and assumed his true, colossal form, vast as a great mountain. He struggled mightily to break free, but Krishna’s grip was unyielding. Overpowered, the demon could not escape. With His powerful arms, Krishna subdued Vyoma, threw him to the ground, and, as the gods looked on from the heavens, slew the slayer of cattle. Then, breaking open the cave’s entrance with great effort, Krishna released the imprisoned boys. The gods and the cowherds alike praised Him for His valor and compassion as He returned to His beloved Vraja. Thus concludes the tale of Vyomāsura’s defeat, the thirty-seventh chapter of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, a scripture cherished by the paramahaṃsas. Meanwhile, Akrūra, the wise and faithful devotee, spent the night in Mathurā. At dawn, he mounted his chariot and set out toward Nanda’s Gokula. As he traveled the road, Akrūra’s heart brimmed with devotion for the Lord of lotus eyes, and he reflected deeply: “What merit have I earned, what great austerity have I performed, or what worthy gift have I given, that today I am to behold Keśava? To see the Lord of such excellent fame is exceedingly rare for one such as me, just as the sacred chanting of Brahman is rare for a śūdra attached to worldly pleasures. 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 to safety. Today, my misfortune is destroyed and my very existence has borne fruit, for I shall bow to the lotus feet of the Lord—those feet which are the object of the yogis’ deepest meditation. Indeed, today even Kaṁsa has shown me the greatest favor, for I shall see the lotus feet of Hari, who has incarnated in this world. The radiance of His nails once dispelled the impenetrable darkness that even the ancient ones could not cross. Those feet—worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, and all the gods, by the goddess Śrī, by sages, and by the Sātvatas—wander the forests with His companions, tending the cows, and are marked with the saffron from the gopīs’ loving touch. Surely I shall behold Mukunda’s face: beautiful cheeks and nose, a gentle smile, reddish lotus eyes, and curling locks, around which even the deer seem to move in adoration. Perhaps today my eyes will finally attain their highest purpose by beholding Viṣṇu Himself, who has taken on a human form by His own will to relieve the earth’s burden, and who is the very abode of all beauty. He, whom I am about to see, is beyond ego and duality, and yet, by His own radiance, dispels the darkness of ignorance. 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 divine birth, destroy all inauspiciousness, enliven and purify the world. Those who are indifferent to His words are but beautiful corpses, lacking true life. He has descended in the line of the Sātvatas, bringing joy to the best of the gods who guard their realms. His fame spreads far and wide as He dwells in Vraja, where the gods sing of His all-auspicious deeds. Today, surely, I shall see Him—the goal of the great, the teacher, the delight of the three worlds, a 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, I shall obtain for myself the touch of those 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 was by that touch that Kauśika (Viśvāmitra) and Bali, having worshiped Him, attained lordship over 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 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 be filled with fearless joy. Then, the best of friends, my kinsman, my only deity, will embrace me with His broad arms. At that very moment, He sanctifies me, and the 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 one who is not honored by Him, even though born as a human, 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. Moreover, the eldest and foremost among the Yadus, smiling, embraced him who had bowed with folded hands, led him into the house where all honors had been prepared, and inquired about the troubles caused by Kaṁsa among his relatives.” Thus, as Akrūra reflected on Krishna with a heart full of longing, he traveled on and soon arrived at Gokula by chariot, just as the sun reaches the western mountain at day’s end. There, in the cowherd settlement, he saw the footprints of the Lord—the very dust of which is revered by all the rulers of the worlds, and which are marked by the lotus, barleycorn, and goad. Filled with joy and reverent excitement, Akrūra’s eyes brimmed with tears and his hair stood on end from love. He descended from his chariot and moved among the sacred footprints, exclaiming, “Ah! This is the dust of the Lord’s feet!” For embodied beings, the greatest blessing is to abandon pride, fear, and sorrow, and this is first achieved by seeing, hearing, or otherwise coming into contact with the signs of Hari. Then, Akrūra saw Krishna and Rama in Vraja, returning from the cow-milking. Krishna was clad in yellow, Rama in blue, their eyes radiant like autumn lotuses. The two brothers, youthful—one dark, one fair—abodes of all beauty, stood with broad arms, handsome faces, splendid forms, and the strength and gait of young elephants. Their feet, marked by banners, thunderbolts, goads, and lotuses, adorned Vraja. Their glances were smiling and full of compassion. Noble and charming in play, they were adorned with garlands and forest wreaths, their bodies anointed with sacred fragrances, bathed, and clad in spotless garments. These two, the primeval Purushas, the causes and lords of the world, had descended for the sake of the earth, manifest as Balarama and Keshava, each bearing their divine portions.