Friendships in this world are often formed for a purpose, lasting only as long as that purpose endures. Just as men seek the company of women, and bees visit flowers, so too do people come together and part when their needs are met. When the destitute can no longer pay, even a courtesan abandons them; subjects forsake a powerless king; students leave their teacher once they have learned all they desire; priests depart after receiving their fee. Birds fly away from a tree when its fruits are gone; guests leave a house after their meal; deer flee a forest that has been burned; and lovers, having enjoyed a woman, leave her behind. But the gopīs of Vraja were unlike others. Their words, bodies, and minds were absorbed wholly in Govinda. When Uddhava, Krishna’s messenger, arrived among them, they renounced all worldly concerns. They sang of Krishna’s beloved deeds, recalling again and again the acts of his childhood and youth, unashamed as tears streamed from their eyes. One gopī, seeing a honeybee and lost in thoughts of union with Krishna, imagined the bee 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. The garland from her breasts has stained your whiskers with pollen. Go, let the lord of bees carry the favor of those proud women. You are his messenger, fit to be mocked in the assembly of the Yadus. “He enchanted us with the nectar of his lips but once, then abandoned us like a flower left behind. How does Padmā serve his lotus feet, when his mind is stolen by the praises of the glorious one? 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, for he has healed the pain of their breasts and granted them their desires. “What woman, in heaven, on earth, or in the underworld, could resist him, whose charming smile and playful brows deceive all? We are but humble servants, worshipping the dust of his feet—even among the wretched, his glorious name 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, whom he himself created, and left without concern. How can we trust him? “Like hunters pursuing the king of monkeys, he wounded women who were unprotected and deformed by love, conquered by desire. Even mighty Bali was bound by him like a bird. Enough of friendship with the dark one; yet, the topics of his deeds are impossible to abandon. “Those who have once tasted the nectar of his playful acts, even hearing them just once, are freed from all dualities and abandon their homes and families, though destitute. Many here, like birds, wander as mendicants. “We, trusting his crooked words as nectar, were ignorant as chicks listening to their mother’s call. We are Krishna’s wives, like deer, recalling again and again the intense pain from his nail’s touch. Let other news be told, O messenger. “Dear friend, have you returned, sent by our beloved? Tell me, what do you seek? You are worthy of honor, O gentle one. How will 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?” Hearing their longing for Krishna’s presence, Uddhava was deeply moved. He comforted the gopīs with loving messages and spoke: “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 attained. By your great 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 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.” Uddhava then delivered Krishna’s own 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. Though I, your beloved, appear to be far away, it is to draw your minds closer to Me, out of longing for constant remembrance. Just as, when a beloved is far away, the mind dwells upon him, so too, for women, the heart is not as absorbed when he is near and visible to the eyes. Fixing your entire mind on Me, freed from all other attachments, and remembering Me always, you will soon attain Me. Those blessed ones who, while I played at night in this forest of Vraja, could not join the dance, did not fail to attain Me, for they meditated on My heroic deeds.” Hearing these words from their beloved, the women of Vraja were filled with joy. They spoke to Uddhava, recalling the message he had brought: “By fortune, the wicked Kaṁsa, the enemy of the Yadus, has been slain; by fortune, Acyuta is now safe, having achieved all His aims with His kin. “O gentle one, does the elder brother of Gadā, honored by the loving, bashful, smiling glances of the city women, bring them joy? How could He, who knows the subtleties of love and is dear to the women of the city, not be captivated by their words and playful gestures? O noble one, does Govinda ever remember us, the village women, in the midst of the city ladies, during their intimate conversations? “Do you remember those nights when he delighted with his beloveds in Vrindavan, amidst the beauty of lotus, jasmine, and moonlight, enjoying the rasa dance with the tinkling of anklets, and sometimes charming us with delightful stories? Will the descendant of Dasharha return here, afflicted by the sorrow caused by his own actions, and revive us with his touch, just as Indra rejuvenates the forest with rain? Why would Krishna come here, having attained his kingdom and destroyed his enemies, after marrying royal maidens and being surrounded by all his dear friends?” So, in longing and love, the gopīs poured out their hearts, and Uddhava listened, recognizing in them the highest devotion—a love that endures separation, and by its very pain, draws the soul ever closer to Krishna.