Akrura’s heart brimmed with anticipation as he journeyed toward Gokula. He thought, “Today, surely, I shall behold 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.” He imagined that, as Krishna descended from His chariot along with the Lord, he would finally obtain the feet that even yogis hold in their minds, bowing to them alongside Krishna’s friends and the dwellers of the forest. Akrura hoped that the Lord might place His own lotus hand upon his head as he fell at Krishna’s feet, granting fearlessness to those terrified by the serpent of Time and seeking refuge. He remembered how, by that very touch, Kauśika (Viśvāmitra) and Bali, having offered worship, attained lordship over the three worlds; or how, in playful moments, Krishna relieved the fatigue of the women of Vraja with the touch of His fragrant hand. He reassured himself that Acyuta, who sees all, would not regard him with enmity, even though he was Kaṁsa’s messenger; for Krishna, the knower of the field, perceives with pure vision all that is done, within and without, by the mind. Perhaps, thought Akrura, Krishna would look upon him, fallen at His feet with folded hands, with a gentle, smiling, compassionate gaze; and at once, all his sins would be destroyed, and he would be filled with great, fearless joy. He longed for the moment when Krishna, the best of friends, his kinsman, his only deity, would embrace him with His broad arms; for at that very moment, Krishna would sanctify him, and the bondage born of karma would be dispelled. When he attained the touch of Krishna’s limbs, bowing with folded hands, Akrura hoped that Krishna would speak to him; but he reflected that, though born as humans, those not honored by Krishna—such a birth is indeed to be lamented. He remembered that Krishna has no one as 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 Krishna favor His devotees. Meanwhile, the eldest and foremost among the Yadus, smiling, embraced Akrura, 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, Akrura, while traveling, arrived at Gokula by chariot, just as the sun reaches the western mountain. Upon entering 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, Akrura’s eyes were overwhelmed with tears and his hair stood on end from love. He descended from the chariot and 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, and other forms of contact with the signs of Hari. Soon, Akrura saw Krishna and Rama in Vraja, returning from cow-milking, wearing yellow and blue garments, their eyes like autumn lotuses. They were youthful, one dark and one fair, abodes of beauty, with broad arms, handsome faces, splendid forms, and the strength and gait of young elephants. These 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 were anointed with sacred fragrances, bathed, and clad in spotless garments. The two—the primeval Purushas, the causes and lords of the world—had descended for the sake of the earth, as Balarama and Keshava, with their own portions. They dispelled the darkness in all directions with their own radiance, like an emerald mountain and a silver one adorned with gold. Overwhelmed with affection, Akrura 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 Krishna is fond of those who bow before Him. Sankarshana, of great mind, embraced Akrura, took his hand in his own, and, together with his brother, 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, with great affection, 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?” He lamented, “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. Śuka continued: Comfortably seated on a couch, honored by Rama and Krishna, Akrura attained all the desires he had cherished on the road. What is unattainable when the Lord, the abode of fortune, is pleased? Yet, O King, those devoted to Him desire nothing at all. After taking the evening meal, the Blessed One, son of Devakī, inquired among His friends about Kaṁsa’s conduct and his latest intentions. Krishna said, “Dear one, gentle Akrura, welcome! May all be well with you. Is everything free from illness and misfortune among your relatives and kin?” “How can I ask about our own welfare, when our family is afflicted and Kaṁsa, our maternal uncle, rules over us and our people?” Krishna lamented, “Alas, so much suffering befell my noble parents because of us—on our account, their sons were killed, and on our account, they were imprisoned. By good fortune, today I see my own people, as I longed, O gentle one. Tell me, dear one, the reason for your coming.” Thus questioned by the Blessed Lord, Mādhava (Akrura) described everything—the enmity among the Yadus and Kaṁsa’s intent to kill Vasudeva. He explained the message and purpose for which he had been sent as a messenger, and what Nārada had told Kaṁsa about the birth of Anakadundubhi’s son. Hearing Akrura’s words, Krishna and Balarama, destroyers of enemy heroes, smiled and informed Nanda, their father, of the king’s command.