Thus, when the elephant keeper was scolded, his anger flared, and in his rage he incited the massive, furious elephant Kuvalayāpīḍa against Kṛṣṇa—a beast as dreadful as Death itself. The lordly elephant charged at Kṛṣṇa and, with its powerful trunk, seized him forcefully. Yet, slipping free from its grasp, Kṛṣṇa struck back and moved nimbly beneath the elephant’s feet. The enraged elephant fixed its gaze upon Keśava, its senses locked on him, and tried to capture him again with its trunk, but Kṛṣṇa eluded its grasp. Then, seizing the elephant by the tail, Kṛṣṇa dragged the mighty creature for a distance of twenty-five bows’ length, just as Garuḍa might playfully drag a serpent. Turning the elephant left and right, Achyuta spun it around as easily as a child spins a calf. Approaching head-on, Kṛṣṇa struck the elephant with his hand, causing it to stagger and collapse to the ground as he touched it step by step. The elephant, thinking it had fallen in play, sprang up swiftly and, in its anger, struck the earth with its tusks. Its strength now checked, and further provoked by its keepers, the great beast charged at Kṛṣṇa once more, filled with rage. As the elephant rushed at him, Lord Madhusūdana seized its trunk with his hand and threw it down to the ground. Then, stepping upon the fallen elephant as a lion would in sport, he tore out one of its tusks and, with that tusk, struck the elephant keeper. Leaving the slain elephant behind, holding the tusk, Kṛṣṇa entered the arena with the tusk resting on his shoulder, his lotus-like face radiant with beads of sweat, marked by drops of blood and ichor. Accompanied by a few cowherd companions, Baladeva and Janārdana entered the arena, O King, each wielding an elephant tusk as a weapon. To the wrestlers, Kṛṣṇa appeared as a thunderbolt; among men, the foremost of men; to women, he was the very embodiment of Cupid; to the cowherds, a beloved kinsman; to wicked rulers, a chastiser; to his parents, a child; to King Bhoja, death itself; to the wise, the cosmic form; to yogis, the Supreme Truth; and to the Vṛṣṇis, the Supreme Deity. Thus recognized in many ways, Kṛṣṇa entered the arena with his elder brother. O King, seeing the mighty Kuvalayāpīḍa slain and those two unconquerable brothers entering, even the resolute Kaṃsa was deeply disturbed in his mind. The two, with their mighty arms, shone brilliantly as they entered the arena, adorned with splendid garments, ornaments, garlands, and cloth—like expert actors assuming supreme roles, captivating the hearts of all who beheld them with their radiance. The citizens and country folk gathered on the platforms gazed upon the two supreme persons, their eyes and faces stirred by a surge of delight; indeed, their eyes could not be sated by the sight of those faces. It was as if they drank with their eyes, tasted 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 the brothers—marveling as if reminded anew. They said, “These two are verily direct incarnations of the Lord—Hari, Nārāyaṇa himself—who have descended in part into the house of Vasudeva. He was truly born of Devakī, then brought to Gokula, where, dwelling in secret, he grew up in the house of Nanda. By him, Pūtanā was destroyed, the demon Cakravat was slain, as were Arjuna the Guhyaka, Keśī, Dhenuka, and many others of that kind. “It was he who rescued the cows and their herders from the forest fire, subdued Kāliya the serpent, and humbled Indra’s pride. For seven days, with one hand, he held up the great mountain, thus protecting Gokula from rain, wind, and thunderbolts. The cowherd women, always beholding his smiling, glancing face, overcame all hardships and fatigue with joy. It is said that by him, the illustrious Yadu dynasty—already renowned—will attain even greater prosperity, fame, and greatness, being protected. “And this is his elder brother, the glorious Rāma, lotus-eyed, by whom Pralamba was slain, as well as Vatsaka, Baka, and others.” While the people thus spoke among themselves and the arena resounded with musical instruments, the wrestler Cāṇūra addressed Kṛṣṇa and Rāma: “O sons of Nanda, O Rāma! You two are esteemed as heroes, skilled in wrestling, and have been summoned by the king, who is 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. Therefore, O friends, let us do what pleases the king, for when the king, who embodies all beings, is satisfied, all creatures are pleased with us.” Hearing these words, Kṛṣṇa replied in a manner suited to the time and place, welcoming the challenge of wrestling, which he himself desired. He said, “We, the subjects of King Bhoja, and we forest-dwellers as well, will always do what pleases him; that is our greatest favor. We are boys and will play with those of equal strength as is proper; let the wrestling match be fair, so that the assembly of wrestlers may not find fault with us.” But Cāṇūra replied, “You are neither a child nor a youth; you are the foremost among the strong, for by your play the mighty elephant, who bore the strength of a thousand, was slain. Therefore, you two must wrestle with the strong; there is no evasion here. Let Muṣṭika contend with Balarāma, and let me, O descendant of Vṛṣṇi, match my strength with yours.” Thus ends the forty-third chapter, entitled “The Slaying of Kuvalayāpīḍa,” in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, scripture for the exalted. Śuka continued: Thus, with his resolve honored, Lord Madhusūdana, together with the son of Rohiṇī, approached Cāṇūra and Muṣṭika. Locking hands with hands and feet with feet, they forcefully dragged each other, each eager for victory. They struck one another with fists, knees, and heads, and with their chests and shoulders as well.