The Yavana, believing that the figure lying before him was simply a saint who had wandered far from home, foolishly struck Achyuta with his foot as He lay resting. Achyuta, who had been in deep slumber for a long time, slowly awoke, opened His eyes, and gazed about. There beside Him stood the Yavana. In that very moment, as Achyuta cast His angry glance upon the intruder, the Yavana was instantly consumed—burned to ashes by the fire that arose from his own body. Hearing of this, King Parikshit inquired with wonder, “O brāhmaṇa, who was that man sleeping in the cave? What was his lineage and power? For what reason did he rest there, and what was the brilliance of the one who destroyed the Yavana?” Śrī Śuka replied, “He was the celebrated Mucukunda, son of Māndhātṛ, born in the noble Ikṣvāku dynasty. Mucukunda was steadfast in truth and devoted to the brāhmaṇas. Long ago, the hosts of gods, including Indra, fearful of the asuras, beseeched him to be their protector. He defended them for a great length of time. “Eventually, the gods found Mucukunda in a cave, weary from his labors. They said to him, ‘O king, please give up these hardships for our sake. You have abandoned the world of men and your own kingdom, free from enemies, and have set aside all your desires to protect us. Now, your sons, wives, relatives, ministers, counselors, and even your peers among your subjects—all have passed away. Time, the almighty and imperishable Lord, is mightier than the mightiest; He brings all beings to their end, just as a herdsman drives cattle. ‘Choose a boon, O blessed one—anything but liberation, for that is not ours to grant. Only the imperishable Bhagavān Viṣṇu can bestow that.’ Thus addressed, Mucukunda bowed to the gods, entered the cave, and surrendered himself to divine sleep. When the Yavana was reduced to ashes, the Blessed Lord Himself—best of the Sātvatas—revealed His form to the wise Mucukunda. Mucukunda beheld before him a wondrous sight: the Lord, dark as a rain-laden cloud, draped in yellow silk, marked with Śrīvatsa on His chest, and shining with the Kaustubha gem. He stood with four radiant arms, adorned with the Vaijayantī garland, His face beautiful and gracious, sparkling with makara earrings. His eyes smiled with affection, He appeared eternally youthful, majestic as a lion, and possessed of noble might. Overwhelmed by the Lord’s brilliance, Mucukunda, cautious and awed, gently questioned Him, as if addressing an unconquerable power. ‘Who are you, O illustrious one, who wanders here in this forest, entering a mountain cave, treading with lotus-like feet among thorns? What brilliance can compare to yours—even among the radiant ones, the Lord, fire, sun, moon, Indra, or any guardian of the worlds? I consider you the foremost among gods, for you dispel the darkness of this cave as a lamp dispels night. ‘If you are pleased, O best of men, please tell us—who are eager to serve you—about your birth, deeds, and lineage. As for myself, O tiger among men, I am of the Ikṣvāku line, a kṣatriya. I am called Mucukunda, son of Yuvanāśva. Exhausted from long wakefulness, I lay here alone, until someone awakened me just now. That intruder was surely consumed by his own wickedness, and then you, illustrious and famed for subduing enemies, appeared before me. Your radiance is so intense that I cannot bear to gaze upon you. Surely you are worthy of all honor among living beings.’ Thus addressed, the Lord, creator of all beings, replied with a gentle smile, His voice deep as thunderclouds. ‘My friend, my births, deeds, and names are countless—even I cannot enumerate them, for they are infinite. Sometimes I have examined my earthly births alongside great souls, but my births are not limited by qualities, deeds, or names. My deeds span all three times—past, present, and future—and even the greatest sages, tracing them, never reach their end. ‘Yet, O king, listen as I speak of my present birth. Long ago, Brahmā requested me to protect dharma. To relieve the earth’s burden and destroy the asuras, I descended into the Yadu dynasty, in the house of Anakadundubhi. People call me Vasudeva, son of Vasudeva. Kalanemi, Kaṁsa, Pralamba, and many other evil ones have been slain. This Yavana, too, has been burned by your fierce gaze. ‘I have come to this cave for your sake, to show you favor. In the past, you prayed to me with great devotion, and I am ever devoted to my devotees. Choose your boons, O royal sage; I grant all desires. One who has my favor need never grieve again.’ Hearing these words, Mucukunda was filled with joy. Recognizing Nārāyaṇa before him, and recalling the words of Garga, he bowed low and spoke: ‘O Lord, people are deluded by your māyā and do not worship you; seeing only misfortune, they become attached to home, wife, and children, seeking happiness, yet are deceived. When a person attains this rare human birth, with a sound body and without great effort, yet does not worship your lotus feet due to a misguided mind, he falls into the dark well of household life, like an animal. ‘O Unconquered Lord, my time has passed fruitlessly, intoxicated by royal opulence, absorbed in the mortal conception of self, and deeply attached to children, wife, wealth, and possessions—tormented by endless anxieties. In this body, which is like a clay pot, I was called “king of men,” surrounded by chariots, elephants, horses, and retinues, roaming the earth in great arrogance, counting no one else as my equal. Intoxicated, I was absorbed in constant thoughts of what to do next, with ever-increasing greed and craving for sense pleasures. But you, who are never bewildered, approach suddenly, O Death, like a snake licking the opening of a mouse’s hole.’ Thus, Mucukunda spoke, pouring out his heart before the Lord, recognizing the futility of worldly achievements and the supreme grace of the Lord who had revealed Himself.