Thus, having received their teacher’s blessing, Balarāma and Janārdana mounted their chariot and sped toward their city, swift as the wind, the thunderous sound of their wheels echoing through the sky. The people, seeing Rāma and Janārdana return, rejoiced as though they had found a long-lost treasure after days of sorrow and longing. In their youth, these princes had mastered the sixty-four arts, as enumerated in the Śaiva Tantras: singing, playing instruments, dancing, acting, painting, and all the manifold skills of beauty, craft, and wisdom—arts from the arranging of flowers and jewelry, to the knowledge of trees and mines, to the composing of poetry and deciphering of omens. In all these, they were accomplished, their education complete. Among the Vṛṣṇis, there was one who stood out above all—Uddhava, wise counselor, beloved friend of Kṛṣṇa, and a direct disciple of Bṛhaspati, the preceptor of the gods. His intelligence was unmatched. One day, the Lord Kṛṣṇa, remover of sorrow for those who seek his refuge, took Uddhava’s hand in his own—such was Uddhava’s dearness and devotion—and spoke to him with gentle affection. He said, “Go, O gentle Uddhava, to Vraja. Bring joy to my parents, and with my message, relieve the agony of the gopīs, who suffer in separation from me. Those women, whose minds are fixed on me, have given up all bodily comforts for my sake; they have come to me, their beloved, their very self, within their hearts. Those who have abandoned all worldly duties for me—I uphold them. For me, their dearest beloved, though far away, the women of Gokula are bewildered, constantly remembering 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 departed for Nanda’s cowherd village. As the sun was setting, he arrived at Nanda’s Vraja, his chariot hidden by the golden dust raised by the hooves of the returning cattle. The air was alive with the bellowing of strong bulls vying for the company of cows, and the cries of calves running eagerly to their mothers, heavy with milk. Here and there, white calves leapt about, the village resounded with the sounds of milking and the sweet melodies of flutes. Gopīs, beautifully adorned, together with the cowherd men, sang the auspicious deeds of Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa, making the village splendid with their devotion. The delightful settlement was filled with rituals for fire, sun, guests, cows, brāhmaṇas, ancestors, and gods, with incense, lamps, and garlands everywhere. All around bloomed groves laden with flowers, echoing with birdsong, and adorned with ponds full of swans, cranes, and lotuses. When Uddhava arrived, Nanda, recognizing Kṛṣṇa’s dear companion, joyfully embraced him and honored him with the same devotion he bore for Vāsudeva himself. After feeding Uddhava the finest food and seating him comfortably on a soft couch, Nanda, seeing that his guest’s fatigue had passed, inquired after his well-being, offering foot massages and other services. He asked, “O fortunate one, is our friend, the son of Śūra, well? Is he surrounded by his family and children, free from troubles, steadfast in his friendship? By good fortune, the wicked Kaṃsa, ever hostile to the virtuous Yadus, has been slain along 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 people? Then we may behold that face of his, with its fine nose and beautiful, smiling eyes. From forest fires, storms and rains, wild bulls and serpents, and from 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 become slack. Our minds become absorbed in those places—rivers, mountains, and forests—adorned by Mukunda’s footsteps, where we saw him play. I think Krishna and Rama, the best among the gods, have come here for some great purpose of the gods, just as Garga said. Kamsa, whose strength was like ten thousand elephants, the wrestlers, and the lord of elephants—he destroyed them all effortlessly, as a lion does beasts. He broke the three mighty palm trees, strong as a great bow, with one hand, and for seven days he held up the mountain. Pralamba, Dhenuka, Arishta, Trinavarta, Baka, and others—these demons, conquerors of gods and demons, were slain by him here in play.” As Nanda spoke, remembering again and again, his mind absorbed in thoughts of Krishna, he became overwhelmed by longing and sat silent, overcome by the surge of love. Yaśodā, listening to stories of her son’s deeds, wept tears of affection, her motherly love flowing forth. Seeing such supreme love for Krishna in Nanda and Yaśodā, Uddhava was filled with joy and spoke to Nanda: “You two are surely the most praiseworthy among all embodied beings, O bestowers of honor, for your minds are fixed in this way upon Nārāyaṇa, the teacher of all. For these two—Rāma and Mukunda—are the seed and womb of the universe: the Person and the Primal Matter. In all beings, they are the ancient lords of knowledge and mastery, distinct from all else. He, in whom, at the time of death, a person fixes even an impure mind for a moment—he swiftly removes the store of karma and leads one to the supreme path, radiant as the sun and full of Brahman. In him, Nārāyaṇa, cause of all, who has taken a mortal form for the sake of all souls—since you have set your hearts so deeply, O great ones, what greater merit could there be for you? Within a short time, Acyuta, the Lord of the Sātvatas, will come to Vraja and bring joy to his parents. Having slain Kamsa, the enemy of all the Sātvatas, in the midst of the arena, whatever Krishna promised you when he met you, he will surely fulfill. Do not grieve, O greatly fortunate ones; you will see Krishna nearby. He dwells within the hearts of all beings, like a light within the ether. For him who exists in reality, there is no one dear nor anyone disliked; neither superior nor inferior, nor equal nor unequal, for he is the same to all.” Thus Uddhava comforted Nanda and Yaśodā, honoring their devotion and assuring them of Krishna’s unfailing love.