As the night gently unfolded in Vraja, a conversation of profound truth and comfort took place among the cowherds. Someone spoke, reminding them, “He is not your son alone, O blessed ones. Lord Hari is the son, the self, the father, and the mother of all. He is the ruler of everything.” The speaker continued, “Whatever is seen or heard—whether past, present, or future; stable or moving; great or small—apart from the true essence of the infallible Lord, nothing is worth mentioning. He alone is everything—the Supreme Self.” Thus, as these words were exchanged, the night passed for Nanda, Krishna’s companion. When dawn approached, the cowherd women rose from their beds, examined the lamps, worshipped their household deities, and began churning the curds. They shone in the morning light, adorned with bracelets and garlands, pulling the ropes with grace. Their hips, breasts, necklaces, and earrings swayed as they worked, their cheeks radiant, faces adorned with red kumkum. As the women of Vraja sang of Krishna, the lotus-eyed one, their voices seemed to reach the heavens. The melody mingled with the sound of churning curds, dispelling all inauspiciousness from the directions. When the sun rose and the Lord appeared, the residents of Vraja gathered at Nanda’s door. There, they saw a golden chariot and wondered aloud, “Whose is this? Has Akrura arrived, or someone else, sent by Kamsa, by whom Krishna was taken to Mathura?” They questioned what atonement such a person could perform for the pleasure of their master. As the women spoke among themselves, Uddhava, having completed his morning rites, arrived. Seeing Krishna’s companion, the women of Vraja beheld Uddhava—long-armed, with fresh lotus eyes, clad in yellow, adorned with a garland of lotuses, his face blooming like a lotus, his earrings shining. They said, “We know you as the attendant of the Yadu lord, sent here 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 reflected, “Friendship with others is made for some purpose, as long as the purpose lasts—just as men make with women, as bees do with flowers. The destitute are abandoned by prostitutes; subjects forsake a powerless king; students leave a teacher once the knowledge is learned; priests depart after receiving their fee. Birds leave a tree once its fruit is gone; guests depart from a house after eating; deer abandon a forest when it is burned; lovers leave a woman after enjoying her.” Thus, the gopīs, whose words, bodies, and minds were absorbed in Govinda, renounced worldly concerns as Krishna’s messenger, Uddhava, arrived. They sang of Krishna’s beloved deeds and wept 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: “O bee, companion of the deceitful, do not touch the feet of my rival. Her garland, smeared with pollen from her breasts, stains your whiskers. Let the lord of bees carry the favor of those proud women, for you are his messenger, fit to be mocked in the assembly of the Yadus. After giving us but once the nectar of his lips, enchanting us, he abandoned us like a flower is left behind. How does Padmā serve his lotus feet, whose mind is stolen by the praises of the glorious one?” She continued, “Why do you, six-legged one, sing here of the lord of the Yadus, who is the ancient master of our homes? Go sing of his exploits among his friends in victory, for he has healed the pain of their breasts, granting them their desires. What women, in heaven, on earth, or in the underworld, are unattainable to him, whose charming smile and playful brows deceive? We, whose fortune is to worship the dust of his feet, are but humble; even among the wretched, the name of the glorious one is heard.” “Leave his foot from your head; I know his sweet words. He sends you, skilled in persuasion, as his messenger. He has abandoned his wives and children here, creating them himself, and left without concern. What trust can be placed in him? Like hunters pursuing the king of monkeys, he wounded women who were unprotected and deformed by love, conquered by desire. Even Bali, though powerful, was bound like a bird. Enough of friendship with the dark one; the topics of his deeds are hard to abandon.” “Those who once tasted the nectar drops of his playful acts, hearing them just once, were freed from all dualities and abandoned their homes and families, though destitute. Many here, like birds, wander as mendicants. We, trusting his crooked words as nectar, ignorant as chicks listening to their mother’s call, are Krishna’s wives, like deer. Again and again we recall the intense 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, O gentle one. How do you bring us to the side of the one who cannot be abandoned, when Lakshmi, his bride, always dwells upon his chest? Is the noble son now in Mathurā? Does he remember his father’s house, his kin, and the cowherds? Does he ever speak of us, his servants? When will he place his mighty, fragrant arm upon our heads?” Śuka then said: Uddhava, hearing their longing for Krishna’s presence, comforted the gopīs with loving messages and spoke to them. “Ah, you are truly fulfilled and honored in the world, for you have devoted your minds entirely to Vāsudeva, the Lord. By vows, austerity, sacrifice, recitation, study, self-restraint, and other means, devotion to Krishna is attained. By your 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 known as 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. Listen to the dear message, bringing you happiness, which I have brought in secret from your beloved husband.” Uddhava conveyed Krishna’s words: “My separation from you is never complete, for I am present in all beings, just as the elements—space, air, fire, water, and earth—are present in all things. I am the foundation of mind, life-breath, elements, senses, and their qualities. By Myself, within Myself, I create, destroy, and sustain Myself, through My own power, as the essence of elements, senses, and their qualities.” “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. By which one contemplates the objects of the senses—arising falsely like a dream—let one restrain the senses, remaining ever wakeful and self-possessed. This is the inner teaching, the yoga and discriminative wisdom of the wise: renunciation, austerity, self-control, and truth, like rivers flowing to the ocean.” “Indeed, though I, your beloved, appear to be far away from you, it is for the purpose of drawing your minds closer to Me, out of your longing for constant remembrance.” Thus, in the gentle dawn of Vraja, the gopīs’ hearts were soothed by the divine message, and their love for Krishna, though tested by separation, was revealed as the highest devotion.