The women of the royal household, their hearts shattered by grief, embraced their fallen husbands as they lay upon the beds of heroes. In sweet, sorrowful voices, they lamented again and again, pouring out their pain. “Alas, lord! Beloved! Knower of righteousness, compassionate protector of the helpless! With you slain, we and our children, our very households, are destroyed.” Their wailing continued, “Deprived of you, our husband, this city, O best of men, has lost all its beauty—just as we have—its festivals and auspiciousness ended.” Their sorrow deepened as they cried, “You have committed a grievous wrong against the innocent; O slayer of creatures, who, having brought us to this state, can find peace?” They reflected on the nature of life itself, “For all beings here, this is truly the source of creation and dissolution. As the protector, one who disregards this never finds happiness anywhere.” Moved by their suffering, the Lord—creator of the worlds—comforted the royal women and performed the customary funeral rites for the slain, as was proper in the world. Then, Krishna and Balarama freed their mother and father from their bonds, and with profound respect, bowed low, touching their parents’ feet with their heads. Devakī and Vasudeva, recognizing their sons as the Lords of the universe, received their reverence without fear and embraced them with deep affection. Śuka then described how the Supreme Person, understanding that his parents’ desires had been fulfilled, spread his own divine illusion, saying, “Do not grieve,” thus bewildering the minds of all. Approaching their parents together, Krishna and his elder brother, the best of the Sātvatas, bowed respectfully and, wishing to please them, addressed them with love, saying, “Mother, Father, though you always longed for us, your sons, we were never able to spend our childhood, boyhood, or youth with you. Because fate prevented us, we could not dwell near you. The happiness that children, cherished in their father’s house, usually enjoy, we did not experience.” Krishna spoke with deep feeling: “Even if a mortal lives a hundred years, he cannot repay his parents from whom his body, the source of all attainments, is born and nourished. If a son, able in body and wealth, does not provide for the livelihood of his parents, after death he is made to eat his own flesh. One who, though able, neglects his aged mother and father, virtuous wife, young child, teacher, brāhmaṇa, or one who has sought refuge, is as good as dead though living. For us, whose minds were always anxious because of Kamsa, these days passed in vain, without worshipping your feet. Therefore, O Father and Mother, you should forgive us, who were dependent and much afflicted by a cruel-hearted man, for not serving you.” Śuka narrated that, hearing these words from Hari, the Soul of the universe, who had assumed a human form through his divine power, Devakī and Vasudeva were deeply moved. Lifting Krishna onto their laps and embracing him, they were filled with joy. Overwhelmed by streams of tears and bound by ties of affection, they could say nothing—their throats choked with emotion, their minds bewildered. Having thus comforted his parents, Krishna, the son of Devakī, installed Ugrasena, his maternal grandfather, as king over the Yadus. He said, “O great king, you should command us and the people; because of Yayāti’s curse, the Yadus must not sit on the royal throne. When I, your servant, am present, even the gods and others bow down and offer tribute—what then of other human kings?” He honored all their relatives and kin—the Yadus, Vrishnis, Andhakas, Madhus, Dasharhas, Kukuras, and others—who had been distressed in every direction by fear of Kamsa. Krishna comforted those who had been wearied by exile in foreign lands, settled them in their own homes, and generously provided them with wealth. Protected by the strong arms of Krishna and Sankarshana, their cherished wishes fulfilled, the people lived happily in their homes, freed from all distress by Krishna and Rama. Day after day, their hearts delighted, they gazed upon the lotus face of Mukunda, always radiant, beautiful, and shining with a compassionate smile. Even the elders there appeared youthful and full of vigor, as they repeatedly drank with their eyes the nectar of Mukunda’s lotus-like face. Then, O King, Krishna, the son of Devakī, along with Sankarshana, approached Nanda, warmly embraced him, and spoke with heartfelt gratitude: “By you, our affectionate father, we were cherished and deeply cared for; indeed, parents have even greater love for their children than for themselves. That father and mother who nurture children abandoned by relatives and unable to care for themselves, do so as if they were their own sons. Please, father, return to Vraja; we will come to see you and our dear relatives, who are pained by affection, after ensuring the happiness of our friends here.” Thus consoling Nanda and the people of Vraja, Achyuta respectfully honored them with gifts of clothing, ornaments, vessels, and other treasures. Overwhelmed with affection, Nanda embraced Krishna and Balarama, his eyes brimming with tears, and then departed for Vraja along with the cowherds. After these events, Vasudeva arranged for the sacred thread ceremony for his two sons, performed with all proper rites by priests and brāhmaṇas, as tradition prescribed. He gave them gifts—cows adorned with gold necklaces, beautifully decorated, with calves and draped in fine cloth—honoring the priests with similar offerings. Vasudeva also gave those cows which, at the birth of Krishna and Rama, he had mentally dedicated, recalling that Kamsa had unlawfully taken them. Having thus received their initiation and attained the status of twice-born, the two noble sons undertook the vow of study under Garga and other family preceptors. Though they are the source of all knowledge, all-knowing, and Lords of the universe, they concealed their flawless wisdom, behaving as ordinary humans. Desiring to reside in a teacher’s house, Krishna and Balarama approached Sandipani of Kashi, who lived in Avanti. With self-control and humility, they served their teacher blamelessly, learning from him with devotion, as if he were a god.