In the bustling city, as the excitement of the day grew, townspeople, villagers, and the leaders of the Brahmins and Kshatriyas entered the grand wrestling arena, each according to their own status. The kings, dignified in their bearing, took their seats among the gathering. At the heart of the arena, surrounded by his ministers, sat Kamsa upon the royal platform, encircled by the regional rulers. Despite his regal posture, his heart was deeply agitated. The air filled with the sounds of trumpets and drums, heralding the entrance of the wrestlers. Proud and splendidly adorned, they strode in with their teachers, their confidence evident. Among them were Chanura, Mushtika, Kuta, Shala, and Toshala, who approached the stage, delighted by the sweet music that resounded through the hall. Meanwhile, the cowherds led by Nanda, having been summoned by the king of the Bhojas, entered together upon a single platform, bringing their gifts as offerings. Thus concluded the forty-second chapter, the "Description of the Wrestling Arena," in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa revered by the supreme renunciates. Then, Śuka continued, saying: Krishna and Balarama, having purified themselves, heard the booming sound of the wrestling drums and came to witness the spectacle. As they approached the entrance to the arena, Krishna saw the mighty elephant Kuvalayapida stationed there, urged on by its keeper. Krishna, fastening his belt and brushing aside his curly locks, spoke in a voice as deep as thunder to the elephant keeper, "O elephant keeper, grant us passage and do not delay; otherwise, today I shall send you and your elephant to the abode of Yama." Thus rebuked, the elephant keeper, enraged, incited the furious elephant against Krishna—a beast as dreadful as Death himself. The lordly elephant rushed at Krishna, seizing him forcefully with its trunk. Krishna slipped from its grasp, struck the elephant, and moved beneath its feet. Enraged, the elephant fixed its gaze and scent upon Krishna, touching him with its trunk, but Krishna escaped its grasp. Seizing the elephant's tail, Krishna dragged the mighty beast for twenty-five bows' length, as Garuda would playfully drag a serpent. Turning it left and right, Krishna spun the elephant around as a child spins a calf. Then, approaching head-on, he struck the elephant with his hand, causing it to stagger and fall as he touched it step by step. The elephant, rising swiftly from the ground in play, thinking itself fallen, struck the earth in anger with its tusks. When its strength was checked, the great elephant, furious and urged on by its keepers, charged at Krishna in rage. As it rushed upon him, Krishna—Madhusudana—seized its trunk with his hand and threw it down to the ground. Stepping upon the fallen elephant as a lion would in sport, Krishna tore out its tusk and struck the elephant keeper with it. Leaving the dead elephant behind, holding its tusk, Krishna entered the arena, the tusk resting on his shoulder, his lotus face radiant with beads of sweat, marked by drops of blood and ichor. Accompanied by a few cowherds, Baladeva and Janardana entered the arena, wielding the elephant's tusks as their weapons. To the wrestlers, Krishna appeared as a thunderbolt; among men, the foremost man; to women, the embodiment of Cupid; to the cowherds, a kinsman; to the wicked rulers, a chastiser; to his parents, a child; to King Bhoja, death; to the wise, the cosmic form; to the yogis, the Supreme Truth; and to the Vrishnis, the Supreme Deity. Thus known, he entered the arena with his elder brother. Seeing Kuvalayapida slain, even the resolute Kamsa became greatly disturbed in mind at the sight of these two unconquerable ones. Krishna and Balarama, possessing mighty arms, shone as they entered the arena, adorned with varied garments, ornaments, garlands, and cloth. Like expert actors assuming supreme roles, they captivated the minds of all who beheld them with their radiance. The citizens and country folk, seated on platforms, gazed upon the two supreme persons, their eyes and faces stirred by the surge of delight. With their eyes, they could not be satisfied by beholding those faces. It was as if they drank with their eyes, licked with their tongues, smelled with their noses, and embraced with their arms. They spoke among themselves, recalling what they had seen and heard—the beauty, virtues, sweetness, and boldness of Krishna and Balarama—as if reminded anew. They said, "These two are indeed direct incarnations of the Lord, Hari, Narayana himself, who have descended in part into the house of Vasudeva. He was truly born of Devaki, then brought to Gokula, and, dwelling there in secret for this time, grew up in the house of Nanda." They remembered how Krishna had brought Putana to her end, slain the demon Cakravat, Arjuna the Guhyaka, Keshi, Dhenuka, and others of that kind. By him, the cows and their herders were rescued from the forest fire; Kaliya the serpent was subdued, and Indra was humbled of his pride. For seven days, with one hand, Krishna held up the great mountain, protecting Gokula from rain, wind, and thunderbolts. The cowherd women, always seeing his smiling, glancing face, crossed over all kinds of hardships and fatigue with joy. They said, "By him, this illustrious Yadu dynasty, already widely renowned, will attain prosperity, fame, and greatness, being protected." "And this is his elder brother, the glorious Rama, lotus-eyed, by whom Pralamba was slain, as well as Vatsaka and Baka and others." While the people thus spoke among themselves and the instruments resounded, Chanura addressed Krishna and Rama with these words: "O sons of Nanda, O Rama, you two are esteemed as heroes, skilled in wrestling, and have been summoned by the king, eager to see you. When the king's wishes are fulfilled, the people surely attain welfare—by thought, deed, and word; the opposite is considered otherwise." The cowherds and herders, always joyful, would openly play at wrestling in the forests while tending the cows.