Seizing the tail of the mighty elephant Kuvalayāpīḍa, Krishna dragged the beast for a full twenty-five bows’ length, just as Garuḍa might playfully drag a serpent. Then, with effortless strength, Achyuta spun the great elephant left and right, tossing it about as easily as a child might spin a calf. Facing the elephant head-on, Krishna struck it with his hand, causing the enormous animal to stagger and crash to the ground, each touch of Krishna’s hand making it falter further. Yet, the elephant, thinking itself merely fallen in play, quickly rose up, striking the earth in anger with its tusks. Enraged and spurred on by its keepers, the elephant gathered its strength and charged furiously at Krishna. But as it rushed forward, Lord Madhusūdana caught its trunk in his hand and hurled the beast to the ground. Standing over the fallen elephant as a lion would stand over its prey, Krishna tore out one of its tusks and, brandishing it as a weapon, struck down the elephant’s keeper. Leaving behind the lifeless elephant, Krishna entered the arena, the tusk resting on his shoulder, marked with drops of blood and ichor. His lotus face shone with beads of sweat, radiant and beautiful. Accompanied by a few cowherd friends, Baladeva and Janārdana entered the arena, each carrying an elephant’s tusk as a weapon. To the assembled wrestlers, Krishna appeared like a thunderbolt; among men, he was the foremost of all; to the women, he was the very embodiment of Cupid; to the cowherds, he was their dear kinsman; to wicked rulers, he was a chastiser; to his parents, a beloved child; to King Bhoja, he was death incarnate; to the wise, he was the cosmic form; to yogis, the Supreme Truth; and to the Vṛṣṇis, the Supreme Deity himself. Thus, known in these many ways, Krishna and his elder brother Balarama entered the arena. Seeing the mighty Kuvalayāpīḍa slain and the two unconquerable brothers entering, even the resolute Kaṁsa was deeply shaken in spirit. Krishna and Balarama, their powerful arms shining, entered the arena adorned with splendid garments, ornaments, garlands, and cloth. They appeared like expert actors assuming supreme roles, captivating the hearts and minds of all who beheld them with their brilliance. The citizens and villagers, seated upon their platforms, gazed upon the two supreme persons with faces and eyes overflowing with delight. Their eyes could not be satisfied, as if they drank in Krishna and Balarama with their gaze, tasted them with their tongues, smelled them with their noses, and embraced them with their arms. They spoke among themselves, recalling what they had seen and heard of the brothers’ beauty, virtues, sweetness, and daring, as if reminded anew. Some declared, “These two are surely direct incarnations of the Lord—Hari, Nārāyaṇa himself—who have descended in part into the house of Vasudeva. Krishna was truly born of Devakī, then brought to Gokula, where he lived in secret and grew up in the house of Nanda. By him, Pūtanā was slain, as well as the demon Cakravat, Arjuna the Guhyaka, Keśī, Dhenuka, and others. He rescued the cows and herders from the forest fire, subdued Kāliya the serpent, and humbled Indra’s pride. For seven days, with one hand, he held aloft the great mountain to protect Gokula from rain, wind, and thunderbolts. The cowherd women, always seeing his smiling, glancing face, overcame all hardship and fatigue with joy. It is said that by him, the illustrious Yadu dynasty, already renowned, will attain even greater prosperity, fame, and glory, being protected by him. And this is his elder brother, the glorious Rāma, lotus-eyed, by whom Pralamba, Vatsaka, Baka, and others were also slain.” As the people spoke thus and the instruments resounded, the wrestler Cāṇūra addressed Krishna and Balarama: “O sons of Nanda, O Rāma, you are both esteemed as heroes, skilled in wrestling, and have been summoned by the king, eager to witness your prowess. When the king’s wishes are fulfilled, the people surely attain welfare—by thought, word, and deed; the opposite brings harm. 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 this, Krishna replied with words fitting the time and place, welcoming the challenge of wrestling, which he himself desired: “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.” Cāṇūra countered, “You are neither a child nor a mere 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 Balarama, and let me, O descendant of Vṛṣṇi, match my strength with yours.” Thus concludes the forty-third chapter, “The Slaying of Kuvalayapida,” in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, the scripture for the paramahamsas. Śuka continued: Thus, with his resolve honored, Lord Madhusūdana, along with the son of Rohini, 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. With circling, feints, embraces, throws, advances, and retreats, they continually countered each other’s moves. By lifting, raising, shaking, and holding, each sought to overpower the other, exerting their full strength. Observing this fierce contest of strength and skill, all the women assembled there, O King, spoke among themselves in groups, filled with compassion for the boys.