As Krishna, the foremost among the Yadus, prepared to depart, he saw the sorrow and longing on the faces of those he was leaving behind. Compassionately, he offered them words of comfort, assuring them through his messengers, “I will return.” His loving promise eased their hearts, even as the moment of separation drew near. As Krishna’s chariot set forth, the people followed, unable to tear their eyes away. For as long as the banner atop the chariot could be seen and the rising dust marked his path, their gaze remained fixed on him, their hearts drawn as if enchanted by a beautiful painting. Only when all hope of Govinda’s return faded from sight did they turn back. Yet, free from sorrow, they spent their days immersed in song, celebrating the wondrous deeds of their beloved Lord. Meanwhile, Krishna journeyed swiftly with Balarama and Akrura, riding together in the chariot toward the sacred, purifying waters of the Yamuna River. Upon reaching its banks, Krishna, accompanied by Rama, rinsed his mouth and drank the clear, jewel-like water. Then, together, they approached a grove of trees and returned to the chariot, while Akrura, having respectfully taken his leave, went to the Yamuna’s pool to perform his ritual bath. Immersing himself in the holy waters, Akrura recited sacred invocations to the eternal Brahman. In that tranquil state, a marvelous vision unfolded before him: he saw Rama and Krishna together within the very waters. Astonished, he wondered, “How can the sons of Devaki be here in the water, when they should be seated on the chariot?” Rising up, he looked toward the chariot and saw them there as before. Doubtful and amazed, he submerged himself again, questioning whether his vision within the water had been an illusion. But once more, a wondrous sight appeared. He beheld the great Lord, surrounded by hosts of Siddhas, Charanas, Gandharvas, and Asuras, all bowing their heads and singing his praises with music. There, resplendent, was the divine one with a thousand radiant serpent hoods, clad in blue garments, shining white as snowy mountain peaks. On the lap of this majestic being rested a figure dark as a raincloud, clothed in yellow silk, four-armed, tranquil, with eyes red as lotus petals. His face was serene and beautiful, adorned with a gentle smile; every feature—his brows, nose, ears, cheeks, and lips—was lovely and tinged with a reddish glow. His arms were long and strong, his chest broad and splendid, his neck conch-like, his navel deep, and his abdomen marked with graceful folds like tender leaves. His hips and thighs were powerful, his hands and knees perfectly formed, and his legs graceful and beautifully shaped. His ankles rose high, his nails glowed with a reddish hue, and his lotus-like feet, adorned with nine toes and thumb-like digits, shone brilliantly. He was adorned with priceless jewels: a crown, bracelets, armlets, sacred thread, waistband, garlands, anklets, and earrings. In his lotus hands, he held the conch, discus, and mace. On his chest gleamed the mark of Srivatsa, the radiant Kaustubha gem, and a garland of forest flowers. Around him stood his close attendants, Sunanda, Nanda, and others, as well as the Sanaka sages, the lords of the gods such as Brahma and Rudra, and the nine foremost twice-born sages. Prahlada, Narada, the Vasus, and other exalted devotees praised him with pure and spotless hearts, each offering words of adoration from their own perspective. He was served by Sri (fortune), Pushti (nourishment), speech, brilliance, fame, satisfaction, dissolution, victory, knowledge, ignorance, power, and illusion. Beholding this vision, Akrura was overwhelmed with delight and supreme devotion. His body thrilled with joy, his heart overflowed with emotion, and tears filled his eyes. With a choked voice, standing firm in goodness, he bowed low, joined his palms in reverence, and slowly, with great care, began to praise the Lord. Thus concludes the thirty-ninth chapter, “Akrura’s Return,” in the first half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the supreme scripture for the realized souls. With deep humility, Akrura spoke: “I bow to you, O Nārāyaṇa, cause of all causes, the primeval, imperishable Person. From your navel-lotus arose Brahmā, and from you, the entire world has come forth. “O Lord, earth, water, fire, wind, space, the great elements, the origin of the unmanifest, mind, senses, all the objects of the senses, and all the gods—these are the elements that make up the world. Yet, beginning with the unmanifest, none of these truly know your nature, for they are grasped as not-self. Even the unborn, bound by qualities to the unborn, knows only what is beyond qualities, not your true form. “Yogis worship you directly as the Supreme Person, the Lord, the principle within the self, within all beings, and within the gods. Some twice-born, following the Vedic path, worship you through the threefold Veda, with elaborate sacrifices of many forms and names. Others, having renounced all actions and attained tranquility, worship you, the embodiment of knowledge, through the sacrifice of wisdom. Still others, purified in mind and following prescribed rites, worship you, who are composed of all, as the one with many forms and yet a single form. Others worship you as Śiva, following the path taught by Śiva, in various ways according to the teachings of many teachers. “In truth, all worship you, the Lord in whom all gods reside, even those devoted to other deities, though their minds are set elsewhere. Just as rivers born from mountains, filled by rain, flow from all sides into the ocean, so do all paths ultimately reach you. “Sattva, rajas, and tamas are the qualities of your nature; in these, all beings from Brahmā down to the immovable are woven. Homage to you, whose vision is unattached, who are the self of all, the witness of all minds. This flow of qualities, produced by ignorance, moves among gods, humans, and animals. “O Lord, fire is your mouth, the earth your feet, the sun your eye, the sky your navel, the chariot your heart, the directions your ears, the heavens your head, Indra and the gods your arms, the oceans your belly, the wind your breath, and strength is established as your energy. The trees and herbs are your body hair, the hair on your head is the vegetation, the clouds are your bones and nails, the mountains are your teeth, blinking is day and night, Prajapati is your mind, the generative organ is rain, and virility is considered to be yours. “In you, the imperishable Self, O Person, the worlds with their guardians and the multitude of living beings are established, just as aquatic creatures gather in water, or as gnats assemble on a fig tree, or as thoughts arise in the mind. Whatever forms you assume here for the sake of play, by those forms, the worlds, cleansed of impurity, joyfully sing your glory. “Salutations to you, the primal Fish, who moved in the waters of dissolution; to you with the head of a horse, salutations, O slayer of Madhu and Kaitabha.” Thus, Akrura, filled with devotion and wonder, praised the Lord, his vision blessed by the divine revelation.