Akrura, filled with awe and humility, reflected deeply on the rare fortune that had come to him. He thought, “To behold the Lord, so renowned and glorious, is a blessing most uncommon—much like the chanting of Brahman is rare for one born as a śūdra, attached to worldly pleasures. May it not be that even someone as fallen as myself is denied the vision of Acyuta; for sometimes, even one swept away by the relentless river of Time manages to cross to safety.” His heart surged with hope and gratitude. “Today, my misfortune is ended, and my life has found its true purpose, for I bow to the lotus feet of the Lord—those feet which are the object of yogic meditation. Indeed, Kaṁsa has unwittingly bestowed the greatest favor upon me, for now I shall see the lotus feet of Hari, who has descended as an incarnation. The brilliance of His toenails once dispelled a darkness so profound that even the ancient sages could not pierce it.” He envisioned those feet, worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, the gods, the goddess Śrī, the sages, and the Sātvatas; feet that wander the forest with His companions, tending the cows, and are marked with the saffron from the gopīs’ loving embrace. “Surely, I shall behold Mukunda’s face,” he thought, “with its exquisite cheeks and nose, its smiling, glancing, reddish lotus eyes, framed by curling locks, around which even the deer seem to circumambulate in reverence.” Akrura’s anticipation grew. “Perhaps today my eyes will finally attain their highest purpose—beholding Viṣṇu, who has taken human form by His own will to relieve the earth’s burden, who is the very embodiment of beauty. He whom I am about to see, though free from ego and duality, dispels the darkness of ignorance by His own radiance; through His māyā, He is perceived in the homes of all beings, through their life, senses, and intellect.” He remembered how the Lord’s words, filled with auspicious qualities, deeds, and birth, destroy all evil, enliven and purify the world. “Those who are indifferent to them,” he mused, “are like beautiful corpses, devoid of true life.” The Lord had descended in the Sātvata lineage, bringing joy to the gods who guard their realms, spreading His fame and dwelling in Vraja, where the gods sing His all-auspicious deeds. Akrura’s longing became a prayer. “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. When He descends from the chariot 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 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.” He recalled how the touch of the Lord’s hand had granted Kauśika (Viśvāmitra) and Bali the lordship of the three worlds, or, in playful moments, had soothed the fatigue of the women of Vraja with its fragrance. “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.” Akrura hoped, “Perhaps He will look upon me, fallen at His feet with folded hands, with a gentle, smiling, compassionate gaze; and all my sins will be destroyed, filling me with great, fearless joy. Then, my best friend, kinsman, and only deity will embrace me with His broad arms; at that very moment, He will sanctify me, and my bondage, born of karma, will be dispelled. When I, bowing with folded hands, attain the touch of His limbs, He, O Akrura, will speak to me; but if we are not honored by Him, though born as humans, such a birth is truly to be lamented.” He remembered, “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.” As Akrura approached, Krishna—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 arranged, and inquired about the troubles caused by Kaṁsa among his relatives. Śuka then narrated, “Thus reflecting on Krishna, the son of Śvaphalka, while traveling, arrived at Gokula by chariot, just as the sun reaches the western mountain, O King.” Upon entering the cowherd settlement, Akrura 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 overflowed with tears and his hair stood on end from love. Descending from the chariot, he moved among the footprints, exclaiming, “Ah! These are the dust of the Lord’s feet!” For embodied beings, the greatest benefit is to abandon pride, fear, and sorrow, which is first achieved by seeing, hearing, or otherwise contacting the signs of Hari. Akrura saw Krishna and Rama in Vraja, returning from milking the cows, wearing yellow and blue garments, their eyes like autumn lotuses. They were youthful—one dark, one fair—abodes of beauty, with broad arms, handsome faces, splendid forms, and the strength and gait of young elephants. The great souls, with feet marked by banners, thunderbolts, goads, and lotuses, adorned Vraja, their glances smiling and full of compassion. Noble and charming in play, adorned with garlands and forest wreaths, their bodies anointed with sacred fragrances, bathed, and clad in spotless garments, the two—the primeval Purushas, causes and lords of the world—had descended for the sake of the earth, as Balarama and Keshava, with their own portions. They dispelled darkness in all directions with their radiance, like an emerald mountain and a silver one adorned with gold. Akrura, overwhelmed with affection, swiftly leapt from the chariot and fell prostrate at the feet of Rama and Krishna. Overjoyed at the sight of the Lord, his eyes streaming with tears and his body covered with goosebumps, he was so eager that he could not speak his own name. The Lord, approaching him, marked by the chariot wheel upon His hand, embraced him, drawing him near with affection, for He is fond of those who bow before Him. Sankarshana, of great mind, embraced Akrura, took his hand in his own, and, together with Krishna, led him into the house. After asking about his welfare and offering him a seat of honor, they washed his feet according to custom and brought the honey-mixture as a welcome gift. Presenting a cow to the guest and respectfully massaging his tired limbs, the Lord offered him abundant, pure food with devotion. When he had eaten, Rama, the supreme knower of dharma, again honored him with scents and garlands used in sacrifices. Nanda, having duly honored him, asked, “How are you faring in this place without kindness, while Kaṁsa still lives, O Dāśārha? Are we not like cowherds under a cruel master? That wicked one who killed his own nephews, even as their mothers cried out in anguish—how could there be well-being for you and your people, we wonder?” Thus, honored by Nanda with sincere words, Akrura, being kindly questioned, let go of the fatigue of his journey, resting in the warmth and grace of the Lord’s presence.