Akrura’s heart was filled with awe as he beheld the divine form before him. The Lord’s arms were long and full, his chest broad and splendid, his neck shaped like a conch, his navel deep, and his abdomen marked with gentle folds resembling tender leaves. His hips and thighs were large, his hands and knees beautifully formed, and his legs graceful and perfectly shaped. High ankles and radiant, reddish nails shone with a brilliance of their own. His feet, adorned with nine toes and thumb-like digits, gleamed like lotus flowers. He was adorned with priceless jewels: a resplendent crown, bracelets and armlets, a sacred thread, waistband, garlands, anklets, and earrings. His lotus hands shone, holding the conch, discus, and mace. Upon his chest rested the mark of Srivatsa, the radiant Kaustubha gem, and a garland of wild forest flowers. Around him stood the divine attendants—Sunanda, Nanda, and others—along with the Sanaka sages, the lords of the gods such as Brahma and Rudra, and nine foremost twice-born sages. Prahlada, Narada, Vasu, and other eminent devotees also gathered, each praising him from their own pure and spotless hearts. He was served by the personifications of fortune, nourishment, speech, brilliance, fame, satisfaction, dissolution, victory, knowledge, ignorance, power, and illusion. Witnessing such a sight, Akrura was overwhelmed with delight and supreme devotion. His body trembled with joy, his heart overflowed with emotion, and his eyes became moist. With a choked voice, standing firm in goodness, Akrura praised the Lord. He bowed low, his head touching the ground, palms joined in reverence, speaking slowly and with care. 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 paramahaṃsas. Akrura then spoke, his voice reverent: “I bow to you, O Nārāyaṇa, the cause of all causes, the primeval, imperishable Person. From your navel-lotus arose Brahmā, and from you this world has come forth. 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, O Lord. Yet these, beginning with the unmanifest, do not know your true 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, as the principle within the self, within 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 as the one with many forms and yet a single form. Others worship you, O Lord, as Śiva, following the path taught by Śiva, in various ways according to the teachings of many teachers. Indeed, all worship you, the Lord in whom all gods reside—even those devoted to other deities, though their minds are set elsewhere, O Master. Just as rivers born from mountains, filled by rain, flow from all sides into the ocean, so too 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 is your feet, the sun is your eye, the sky is your navel, the chariot is your heart, the directions are your ears, the heavens are your head, Indra and the gods are your arms, the oceans are your belly, the wind is your breath, and strength is established as your energy. 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, O slayer of Madhu and Kaitabha, salutations. Salutations to the vast One, support without a shore, lifter of Mandara mountain; to the One who delights in uplifting the earth, salutations to you in the form of the Boar. Salutations to you, wondrous Lion, who removes the fear of the virtuous; salutations to you, Vāmana, who traversed the three worlds. Salutations to the Lord of the Bhṛgus, destroyer of the prideful Kṣatriyas in the forest; salutations to the best of the Raghus, the destroyer of Rāvaṇa. Salutations to Vāsudeva, salutations to Saṅkarṣaṇa; to Pradyumna and Aniruddha, salutations to the Lord of the Sātvatas. Salutations to Buddha, the pure one, who deludes the Daityas and Dānavas; salutations to you in the form of Kalki, destroyer of the impure and unrighteous rulers. O Lord, this world of living beings is bewildered by your māyā; grasping the false notions of ‘I’ and ‘mine,’ it wanders along the paths of karma. I, deluded, wander among things like body, children, home, wealth, and relatives, thinking them real; O Lord, I roam in dreamlike illusions, mistaking them for truth. With a mind confused by opposites, immersed in darkness, I do not know what is truly dear to my own self, being attached to impermanent, non-self, and painful things. Just as an ignorant person, leaving water concealed by vegetation, pursues a mirage, so too do I, turning away from you, chase after illusions. I, of pitiable mind, struck down by desires and actions, am unable to restrain my mind, which is carried away here and there by the senses, which are difficult to control. Thus I have come to your feet, which are difficult for the unworthy to attain; even this I consider to be by your grace, O Lord. Liberation from the cycle of birth and death comes to a person when, O Lotus-naveled One, the mind is devoted to proper worship of you. Salutations to the One who is pure consciousness, the cause of all certitude; to the Lord of Puruṣa and Pradhāna, to Brahman of infinite power.