Those who once tasted the nectar of Krishna’s playful deeds, even if only by hearing of them a single time, found themselves released from all the sufferings of duality. Such was the power of his stories that many, abandoning their homes and families despite having nothing, wandered the world as mendicants, free as birds. We, his wives, trusted his charming but elusive words as if they were nectar, naïvely, like chicks responding to their mother’s call. We are drawn to Krishna as deer are to their beloved, and again and again, we remember the intense, sweet pain left by the touch of his nails. O gentle messenger, let other tidings be told. Dear friend, have you come back to us, sent by our beloved? Tell us, what do you seek here? You are worthy of all honor, O kind one. How will you unite us with him, the one we cannot forsake, when even Lakshmi, the goddess herself, ever 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 humble servants? When will he again place his mighty, fragrant arm upon our heads? Śrī Śuka said: Thus did the gopīs pour out their yearning for Krishna to Uddhava, who listened with compassion. He comforted them with loving words and began to speak. Uddhava said: Truly, you are the most blessed and honored in all the world, for you have surrendered your minds completely to Vāsudeva, the Lord himself. Through vows, austerity, sacrifice, recitation, study, self-restraint, and so many other means, people strive to attain devotion to Krishna. Yet by your great fortune, you have achieved the highest devotion to the Lord of exalted fame—a devotion rare even among the sages. By the workings of destiny, you have left behind sons, husbands, bodies, relatives, and homes, and instead chosen that Supreme Person, Krishna. The state of complete absorption in the Transcendent, O greatly fortunate ones, has arisen in you through this separation. In this, you have bestowed a great favor upon me. Now, listen to the dear message I have brought you in secret from your beloved husband, a message meant to bring you happiness. The Blessed Lord says: My separation from you is never truly complete. I am present within 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, the elements, the senses, and their qualities. By my own nature, within myself, I create, destroy, and sustain myself through my own power, being the essence of all elements, senses, and their qualities. The Self is made of knowledge, pure, distinct, and untouched by qualities, yet, through illusion, appears to move through deep sleep, dream, and waking states. That by which one contemplates the objects of the senses—arising falsely like a dream—should be restrained, keeping the senses ever wakeful and self-possessed. This is the inner teaching, the yoga and discriminative wisdom of the wise: renunciation, austerity, self-control, and truth, all flowing into the ocean of realization. Though I, your beloved, seem far from you, it is only to draw your minds closer to me, filling you with longing and constant remembrance. For when a beloved is far away, the mind dwells upon him; but when he is near and visible, the heart is not as deeply absorbed. Fix your entire mind on me, freed from all other attachments, remembering me always, and you will soon attain me. Even those blessed ones who could not join me in the rasa dance at night in Vraja did not fail to reach me, for they meditated upon my heroic deeds. Śuka continued: Hearing these words from their beloved, the women of Vraja were filled with joy and spoke to Uddhava, recalling the message he had brought. The gopīs said: By great fortune, the wicked Kaṁsa, enemy of the Yadus, has been slain; by fortune, Acyuta is now safe, having accomplished all his purposes 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 simple village women, amidst the city ladies, during their intimate conversations? Do you remember those nights when he delighted with his beloveds in Vrindavan, among the lotuses, jasmine, and moonlight, enjoying the rasa dance with the tinkling of anklets, 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 gained his kingdom and destroyed his enemies, after marrying royal maidens and being surrounded by all his dear friends? What purpose could we forest dwellers or others serve for the great soul, the Lord of Lakshmi, who has fulfilled all desires and is accomplished within himself? Indeed, supreme happiness lies in freedom from expectation, as Pingala the courtesan once declared; yet, even knowing this, our hope in Krishna is so hard to abandon. Who could bear to give up communion with the glorified Lord, even against their will, when fortune never leaves his limbs? These rivers, mountains, forests, cows, and the sound of the flute—all have been traversed by Krishna, accompanied by Sankarshana, O master. Again and again, the very abodes of Lakshmi remind us of Nanda’s son; his footprints make it impossible for us to forget him. With his graceful walk, noble laughter, playful glances, and sweet speech, he has captured our minds—how could we ever forget him? O Lord, O consort of Lakshmi, O master of Vraja, destroyer of distress, lift up Gokula, O Govinda, from the ocean of suffering in which it is submerged. Śuka said: Thus, comforted and relieved of the burning fever of separation by Krishna’s messages, the gopīs honored Uddhava, recognizing him as a manifestation of the Lord himself. He remained there for several months, dispelling the grief of the gopīs, recounting Krishna’s pastimes, and filling all of Gokula with delight. For as many days as Uddhava stayed in Nanda’s Vraja, the moments passed swiftly for its people, absorbed as they were in news of Krishna. As Uddhava beheld the rivers, forests, and blossoming trees, he remembered Krishna and found joy in serving the people of Vraja. Witnessing the gopīs’ profound absorption in Krishna, their minds overwhelmed with love, Uddhava, filled with supreme joy, bowed to them and sang their glories.