The two noble sons of Vasudeva, Krishna and Balarama, shone as the foremost among students, their hearts pure and devoted. Their teacher, the most eminent among the twice-born, was deeply pleased by their conduct and, as their preceptor, instructed them fully in all the Vedas, their branches, and the Upanishads. He also revealed to them the secret Dhanurveda—the science of arms—along with the principles of righteousness, the paths of justice, the science of reasoning, and the sixfold science of royal governance. Krishna and Balarama, initiators of all knowledge and best among men, absorbed every teaching at a single hearing, O King, comprehending all at once. In just sixty-four days and nights, they mastered all these arts. When their studies were complete, they respectfully approached their teacher and asked him to declare what fee they might offer as gratitude. Witnessing their extraordinary, almost superhuman intelligence, their teacher, after consulting with his wife, requested a most unusual fee: the return of his son, who had perished at Prabhasa, swallowed by the great ocean. Agreeing at once, Krishna and Balarama, mighty in valor, ascended their splendid chariot and journeyed to Prabhasa. There, at the shore, they paused, and the ocean, recognizing the divine brothers, approached with offerings of respect. Krishna addressed the ocean, “O Ocean, swiftly return the son who was seized here by a mighty wave and swallowed by you.” But the Ocean replied, “O Lord, I did not take him. It was the great demon Panchajana, who dwells in these waters in the form of a conch, who seized him, O Krishna.” Hearing this, Krishna immediately plunged into the waters, slew the demon Panchajana, but did not find the boy within its belly. However, he retrieved from the demon’s body a conch shell and, returning to the chariot, set forth for the city of Samyamani, beloved of Yama, the lord of justice. Upon arrival, Krishna, with his weapons, sounded the conch shell. The mighty blast echoed through the city, and Yama, restrainer of all beings, took notice. Yama came forth, offering great worship, his devotion deep, and bowed to Krishna, the indwelling Lord of all hearts. He spoke, “O Vishnu, who acts in human form, what shall we do for you both?” Krishna replied, “The son of our teacher, brought here by the bonds of his own deeds, O great king, bring him forth now, by my command.” Yama assented, “So be it,” and brought forth the teacher’s son to Krishna and Balarama. The brothers joyfully returned the boy to their preceptor and, as tradition prescribed, once more invited him to request any boon he desired. Their revered teacher, filled with gratitude and affection, replied, “My dear ones, you have fully repaid your teacher’s fee. What desire could remain for a teacher such as yours? Return home, O heroes. May your fame be pure, and may the Vedas you have learned remain with you, in this world and the next.” Thus permitted, Krishna and Balarama mounted their chariot, which sped as swiftly as the wind with a sound like thunder. All the people rejoiced to see Rama and Janardana return, as those who have regained lost treasure after long deprivation. The sixty-four arts the brothers mastered are detailed in the Śaiva Tantras: singing, playing instruments, dancing, acting, painting, decorative cuttings, arranging rice and flowers, making flower beds, adornment of teeth, clothing and body, jeweled floors, preparing beds, playing water instruments, water games, artistic combinations, weaving garlands, arranging head ornaments, crafting costumes, shaping ear ornaments, blending fragrances, arranging jewelry, conjuring tricks, wrestling, sleight of hand, preparing foods, making drinks, needlework, string games, riddles, reciting chains of verses, tongue-twisters, reading books, watching plays, poetic puzzles, mat and cane making, spinning and weaving, carpentry, architecture, testing gems, metallurgy, gem colors, mining, knowledge of trees, rules for animal contests, training birds, cleaning, hairdressing, secret codes, mimicking languages, dialects, interpreting omens, making mechanical devices, magical diagrams, group recitation, composing poetry in the mind, creative arts, tricks and games, knowledge of prosody, concealing clothes, dice games, magnet games, children’s toys, and the Vainayikī, Vaijayikī, and Vaitālikī arts. Among the Vṛṣṇis, Uddhava was foremost—a wise counselor, beloved friend of Krishna, and a direct disciple of Bṛhaspati, excelling in intelligence. One day, Krishna, the remover of distress for those who seek refuge, took Uddhava’s hand in his own and spoke tenderly to his dear and devoted friend. “Go, O gentle Uddhava, to Vraja. Bring joy to my parents, and with my messages, relieve the agony of the gopīs, who suffer so in separation from me. Their minds are fixed on me, their very lives devoted to me. They have forsaken all comforts for my sake and have surrendered themselves to me, their beloved, their very self, in their hearts. Those who have abandoned worldly duties for me—I uphold them. For me, their dearest beloved, though I am far away, the women of Gokula are bewildered, constantly recalling me, overwhelmed by the pain and longing of separation. My cowherd maidens, whose hearts are united with me, somehow sustain their lives with great difficulty, holding on by the hope of my return and the messages I send.” Thus instructed, Uddhava, honoring his master’s command, mounted his chariot and set out for Nanda’s cowherd village. He arrived at Vraja as the sun was setting, his chariot shrouded in the dust raised by the hooves of the returning cattle. The air resounded with the bellowing of strong bulls eager for the company of cows, and the cries of calves running to their mothers, heavy with milk. The village was adorned with white calves leaping about, filled with the sounds of milking and the sweet melodies of flutes. Gopīs, beautifully adorned, along with the cowherd men, sang the auspicious deeds of Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa, making the village splendid. The delightful settlement was alive with rituals for fire, the sun, guests, cows, brāhmaṇas, ancestors, and gods, and fragrant with incense, lamps, and garlands. All around bloomed flower-filled groves, echoing with the songs of flocks of birds, and adorned with ponds full of swans, cranes, and lotuses. When Uddhava arrived, Nanda joyfully embraced him, honoring him as he would Vāsudeva himself, for Uddhava was Krishna’s dear companion. After feeding him the finest foods and seating him comfortably on a soft couch, Nanda, seeing Uddhava’s fatigue gone, inquired after his well-being, offering him foot massages and other services. “O fortunate one,” Nanda asked, “is our friend, the son of Śūra, well? Is he surrounded by his family and children, free from troubles, and steadfast in his friendship? By good fortune, the wicked Kaṁsa, who always hated the virtuous Yadus, has been slain with his followers by his own evil. Does Krishna still remember us—his mother, his friends, the cowherds, the village, his own dear ones, the cows, Vrindavana, and the hill? Will Govinda return, even once, to see his own people? Then we shall behold that face of his, with its fine nose and beautiful, smiling eyes. From forest fires, storms and rains, wild bulls and serpents, and dangers impossible to cross—even from death itself—we were protected by Krishna, the supremely great soul. When we remember Krishna’s heroic deeds, his playful glances, his laughter and speech, O dear one, all our activities come to a halt, so absorbed are we in thoughts of him.