After the arrival of Uddhava in Vraja, Nanda received him with great warmth. He offered Uddhava the finest food and made sure he was seated comfortably on a soft couch. Once Nanda saw that Uddhava’s fatigue had faded, he lovingly inquired about his well-being, offering foot massages and other gentle services to ensure his comfort. “O fortunate one,” Nanda asked, “is our dear friend, the son of Śūra, well? Is he surrounded by his family and children, free from troubles, and steadfast in his friendship?” Nanda continued, “By good fortune, the wicked Kaṃsa—who always hated the virtuous and righteous Yadus—has been slain along with his followers by his own evil deeds. Does Krishna still remember us—his mother, his friends, the cowherds, the village, his dear ones, the cows, Vrindavana, and the hill?” With longing in his heart, Nanda wondered aloud, “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 dangers such as forest fires, storms and rains, wild bulls and serpents, even from death itself, we were protected by Krishna, the supremely great soul.” Nanda’s voice trembled with emotion as he recalled, “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.” He recounted Krishna’s feats: “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.” Śuka, the sage, narrates: Thus, remembering again and again, Nanda, whose mind was wholly devoted to Krishna, became overwhelmed with longing and sat silent, overcome by the surge of love. Yaśodā, as she listened to the stories of her son’s deeds, her eyes filled with tears, and her breasts, flowing with affection, became wet. Witnessing 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.” Uddhava continued, “He, in whom, at the time of death, a person fixes even an impure mind for a moment, who swiftly removes the store of karma—he, radiant as the sun and full of Brahman, leads one to the supreme path. 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?” He assured them, “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.” Uddhava spoke of Krishna’s transcendence: “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. He has neither mother nor father, nor wife nor sons and others; neither his own nor another, nor body nor birth at all. Nor does he have any action in this world among the mixed sources of good and bad; even so, for the sake of play, he appears for the protection of the virtuous. Though beyond qualities, he assumes the modes of goodness, passion, and darkness; playing with them, he creates, maintains, and destroys, though unborn.” He explained, “Just as, by the vision of the bee, something appears to whirl and be greatly agitated, so, in the mind, the self is remembered as the doer by the notion of agency. Indeed, he is not your son alone, O blessed ones; the Lord Hari is the son, the self, the father, and the mother of all, he is the ruler. Whatever is seen, heard, past, present, or future; stable or moving, great or small—apart from the true substance of the infallible, nothing is worth speaking of; he alone is everything, the Supreme Self.” As Uddhava and Nanda spoke through the night, dawn approached. The cowherd women arose, examined the lamps, worshipped the household deities, and began to churn the curds. They shone with bracelets and garlands as they pulled the ropes, their hips, breasts, necklaces, and earrings moving, their cheeks radiant and faces adorned with red kumkum. As the women of Vraja sang of the lotus-eyed one, their voices seemed to touch the heavens; mingled with the sound of churning curds, it dispelled all inauspiciousness from the directions. When the sun rose and the Lord appeared, the residents of Vraja at Nanda’s door saw a golden chariot and asked, “Whose is this?” They wondered, “Is Akrura arrived, or someone else, who fulfills Kamsa’s purpose, by whom Krishna, the lotus-eyed one, was taken to Mathura? What atonement will he accomplish for us, for the pleasure of our master?” Then, as the women spoke thus, Uddhava, having performed his morning rites, arrived. Seeing Krishna’s companion, the Vraja women beheld him—long-armed, with fresh lotus eyes, clad in yellow, adorned with a garland of lotuses, his face like a blooming lotus, his earrings shining. They said, “We know you as the attendant of the Yadu lord, come here, sent by the master, to do something dear for his parents. Otherwise, we cannot imagine any reason for him to be remembered in Vraja; the bond of affection among kin is hard to renounce, even for a sage.” They spoke of the nature of friendship: “Friendship with others is made for some purpose, as long as the purpose lasts; as men make with women, just as bees do with flowers. The destitute are abandoned by prostitutes; subjects forsake a king who is powerless; students leave a teacher once the knowledge is learned; priests depart after receiving their fee.” Thus, the morning in Vraja unfolded, filled with longing, devotion, and the gentle wisdom brought by Uddhava, as the hearts of Nanda, Yaśodā, and the women of Vraja overflowed with love for Krishna.