The gopīs of Vraja, hearts aching with longing, gathered together, their faces wet with tears as they remembered Krishna. They recalled his graceful walk, his gentle gestures, the affectionate smiles and glances he bestowed upon them, his playful jokes that dispelled their sorrows, and the many delightful deeds he performed. Fearful and distressed by separation from Mukunda, they clustered in groups, speaking to each other with hearts fixed on Acyuta. In their grief, the gopīs cried out, “O Creator, how merciless you are! You unite embodied beings in friendship and love, only to separate them before their desires are fulfilled—just as children’s playthings are snatched away. You showed us Mukunda’s face, framed by dark curls, with lovely cheeks and a raised nose, beautiful with a hint of a smile that dispels sorrow; and now, you make him distant from us. This is not right.” Their lament continued: “You are cruel, deserving the name Akrūra! You gave us sight, only to take it away like a tyrant, for through you, we beheld the beauty of the enemy of Madhu, the perfection of all creation, all in one place. The son of Nanda, whose affection is fleeting, no longer looks upon us, though we are tormented by our own actions. Having left home, family, and husbands, we came to serve him, but now he has found new beloveds. Surely, for the women of that city, the night passed happily and their wishes came true, for they will drink in the face of the Lord of Vraja as he enters, tasting the nectar of his sidelong, smiling glances. Mukunda, captivated by their sweet, honeyed words, is now under their control, though he is strong-willed. How will he ever return to us village women, who are bashful and bewildered by love?” They spoke of the festival awaiting Krishna in the city: “Today, surely, there will be a great festival for the Daśārhas, Bhojas, Andhakas, Vṛṣṇis, and Sātvatas; those on the road will see the beautiful Lord, the abode of all virtues, the son of Devakī. Let the name Akrūra be given to one so pitiless as this! How cruel, that he, without comforting us in our deep sorrow, will take our dearest friend far away. He, with an unfeeling heart, has mounted the chariot, and the reckless urge him on. The cowherds, neglected by their elders, follow with their carts, while fate itself turns against us today.” Desperate, the gopīs resolved, “Let us go and stop Mādhava! What could our elders and relatives do for us, when, by fate, our hearts—unable to bear even a half-blink’s separation from Mukunda—are now shattered? We gopīs, whose hearts were led away by his loving smiles, enchanting words, playful glances, embraces, and the joys of the rāsa dance—how can we cross this endless darkness of separation, even for a moment, without him? When, at day’s end, the friend of Ananta returns to Vraja, surrounded by cowherds, his hair dusted by their hooves, playing his flute, glancing with smiling eyes—how could we live if we were deprived of him?” Śuka describes how the women of Vraja, their minds absorbed in Krishna and tormented by separation, cast off their shyness and wept aloud, crying, “Govinda! Dāmodara! Mādhava!” As the sun rose and the women wept, Akrūra, having fulfilled his friendly duties, urged the chariot onward. The cowherds, led by Nanda and others, followed after with their carts, bringing many gifts—jars filled with products of the cows. The cowherd women, enchanted by their beloved Krishna, followed after him, longing for a sign from the Lord, and stood waiting. Seeing them so afflicted as he departed, Krishna, the foremost of the Yadus, comforted them with loving words, assuring them through messengers, “I will return.” As long as the banner was visible and the dust of the chariot could be seen, they continued following, their hearts set upon him, as if drawn by painted images. When hope of Govinda’s return was gone, they turned back; free from sorrow, they spent their days singing of their beloved’s deeds. Meanwhile, the Lord arrived, accompanied by Rama and Akrura, riding swiftly in the chariot, to the purifying Yamuna river. There, after rinsing his mouth and drinking the clear, jewel-like water, he approached a grove of trees with Rama and entered the chariot; Akrūra, having bid them farewell and seated himself atop the chariot, went to the Yamuna’s pool and performed ritual bathing. Immersing himself in those waters and reciting the eternal Brahman, Akrūra suddenly saw Rama and Krishna together. He wondered, “How are the sons of Devaki here in the water, when they should be on the chariot?” Rising up, he looked for them. There again, as before, he saw them seated; he submerged once more, questioning whether his vision of them in the water was false. Once more, he saw the great Lord being praised by Siddhas, Charanas, Gandharvas, and Asuras with bowed heads and musical instruments. He beheld the divine one with a thousand heads, crowned with a thousand serpent hoods, clad in blue garments, shining white like snowy peaks. On his lap rested a dark, cloud-hued person, dressed in yellow silk, four-armed, peaceful, with lotus-petal reddish eyes. His face was beautiful and serene, his gaze adorned with a charming smile; his brows, nose, ears, cheeks, and lips were all lovely and reddish. His arms were long and full, his chest broad and splendid, his neck like a conch, his navel deep, his abdomen marked with folds like tender leaves. His hips and thighs were large, his hands and knees well-formed, his legs graceful and beautifully shaped. His ankles were high, his nails reddish, shining with rays; his feet, adorned with nine toes and thumb-like digits, gleamed like lotus flowers. He was adorned with priceless jewels: crown, bracelets, armlets, sacred thread, waistband, garlands, anklets, and earrings. His lotus hands shone, holding conch, discus, and mace; his chest bore the mark of Srivatsa, the radiant Kaustubha gem, and a garland of forest flowers. He was attended by Sunanda, Nanda, and other associates, by the Sanaka sages, by the lords of the gods such as Brahma and Rudra, and by nine foremost twice-born sages; by Prahlada, Narada, Vasu and other foremost devotees, who praised him with words, each from their own perspective, their hearts pure and spotless. He was served by Sri (fortune), Pushti (nourishment), speech, brilliance, fame, satisfaction, dissolution, victory, knowledge, ignorance, power, and illusion. Beholding him, Akrūra was deeply delighted, filled with supreme devotion, his body thrilled with joy, his heart overflowing with emotion, his eyes moist. With a choked voice, standing firm in goodness, the devotee praised him, bowing low with his head, palms joined in reverence, slowly and with care.