The Lord, though untouched by any actions in this world—where all is mingled with good and bad—chooses, out of his own divine play, to appear for the protection of the virtuous. Though he stands beyond all qualities, he assumes the modes of goodness, passion, and darkness, and, playing with these, he creates, maintains, and destroys the universe, all while remaining unborn. Just as the world seems to whirl and tremble when seen through the eyes of a bee, so too does the Self appear as the doer in the mind, only by the notion of agency; in truth, the Self is ever untouched. The Lord Hari is not your son alone, O blessed ones—he is the son, the self, the father, and the mother of all beings; he is the ruler of all. Whatever is seen or heard, whether of the past, present, or future; whether stable or moving, great or small—apart from the true substance of the infallible Lord, nothing is worth speaking of. He alone is everything, the Supreme Self. Thus, as these profound words were spoken, the night passed for Nanda, Krishna’s companion. When dawn approached, the women of Vraja rose, examined the lamps, worshipped the household deities, and began to churn the curds. Adorned with bracelets and garlands, they pulled the ropes, their hips and breasts moving, necklaces and earrings swaying, cheeks radiant, and faces bright with red kumkum. As they worked, the women sang of Krishna, the lotus-eyed one, their voices rising so high they seemed to touch the heavens. The sound of their singing, mingled with the rhythm of churning curds, dispelled all inauspiciousness from every direction. When the sun rose and the Lord appeared, the people of Vraja gathered at Nanda’s door and saw a golden chariot. They wondered aloud, “Whose chariot is this? Has Akrura come, or someone else sent by Kamsa, by whom Krishna, the lotus-eyed one, was taken to Mathura? What atonement will he offer for us, for the pleasure of our master?” As the women spoke thus, Uddhava, having completed his morning rites, arrived. The women of Vraja gazed upon Uddhava, Krishna’s companion—long-armed, with fresh lotus-like eyes, clad in yellow garments, adorned with a garland of lotuses, his face blooming like a lotus, his earrings shining. They recognized him: “We know you as the attendant of the Yadu lord, sent here by our master to do something dear for his parents. Otherwise, what reason could there be for him to remember Vraja? The bonds of kinship are hard to break, even for a sage.” They reflected: “Friendship with others is made for a purpose, and lasts only as long as the purpose does—like men with women, or bees with flowers. The destitute are abandoned by prostitutes; powerless kings by their subjects; students leave their teacher once knowledge is gained; priests depart after receiving their fee. Birds leave a tree once its fruit is gone; guests leave a house after eating; deer abandon a burned forest; lovers leave a woman after enjoying her.” Thus, the gopīs, whose words, bodies, and minds were absorbed in Govinda, let go of all worldly concerns when Krishna’s messenger, Uddhava, arrived. They sang of Krishna’s beloved deeds, weeping openly, recalling again and again the acts of his childhood and youth. One gopī, seeing a honeybee and meditating on union with Krishna, imagined it as a messenger sent by her beloved and spoke to it: “O bee, companion of the deceitful, do not touch the feet of my rival. Her garland, stained with pollen from her breasts, marks your whiskers. Let your lord carry the favor of those proud women, for you are his messenger, fit to be mocked in the Yadu assembly. After giving us but once the nectar of his lips, enchanting us, he abandoned us like a flower left behind. How does Padmā serve his lotus feet, whose mind is stolen by praise?” She continued, “Why do you, six-legged one, sing here of the lord of the Yadus, the ancient master of our homes? Go sing of his exploits among his friends in victory—he has healed the pain of their hearts, granting them their desires. What women, in heaven, on earth, or below, are beyond his reach, whose smile and playful brows deceive? We, who are only fit to worship the dust of his feet, are humble indeed; yet even among the wretched, his name is heard.” “Take his foot from your head; I know his sweet words. He sends you, skilled in persuasion, as his messenger. He abandoned his wives and children here, though he created them himself, and left without concern. What trust can be placed in him? Like hunters pursuing the king of monkeys, he wounded women unprotected and deformed by love, conquered by desire. Even mighty Bali was bound like a bird. Enough of friendship with the dark one—yet, the stories of his deeds are impossible to abandon.” “Those who once tasted the nectar of his playful acts, hearing them just once, were freed from all dualities and left their homes and families, though destitute. Many here wander as mendicants, like birds. We, trusting his crooked words as nectar, ignorant as chicks to their mother’s call, are Krishna’s wives, like deer. Again and again we recall the pain from his nail’s touch. Let other news be told, O messenger.” “Dear friend, have you returned, sent by the beloved? Tell me, what do you seek? You are worthy of honor, gentle one. How will you bring us to the side of the one who cannot be abandoned, when Lakshmi herself always dwells on his chest? Is the noble son in Mathura now? Does he remember his father’s house, his kin, and the cowherds? Does he speak of us, his servants? When will he place his mighty, fragrant arm upon our heads?” Hearing their deep longing for Krishna, Uddhava comforted the gopīs with loving words and delivered Krishna’s message: “Ah, you are truly fulfilled and honored in this world, for you have devoted your minds entirely to Vāsudeva, the Lord. By vows, austerity, sacrifice, recitation, study, self-restraint, and many other means, devotion to Krishna is sought. By great good fortune, you have established supreme devotion to the Lord of exalted fame—a devotion difficult even for sages to attain. By destiny, you have abandoned sons, husbands, bodies, relatives, and homes, and chosen that Supreme Person, Krishna.” “The state of complete absorption in the Transcendent, O greatly fortunate ones, has arisen in you through separation; by this, you have bestowed a great favor upon me. Now listen to the dear message, bringing you happiness, which I have brought in secret from your beloved husband.” Krishna’s message was this: “My separation from you is never complete, for I am present in all beings, just as space, air, fire, water, and earth are present in all things. I am the foundation of mind, life-breath, the elements, the senses, and their qualities. By Myself, within Myself, I create, destroy, and sustain Myself, through My own power, as the essence of all things. The Self is made of knowledge, pure, distinct, and not bound by qualities; yet, through the workings of illusion, it appears to move through deep sleep, dream, and waking states.