The Lord, standing before the royal sage Mucukunda, spoke kindly: “Choose your boons, O king; I grant you all that you desire. One who wins my favor need never grieve again.” Hearing these gracious words, Mucukunda was filled with joy. He bowed deeply, recognizing before him none other than Narayana himself, just as the sage Garga had foretold. With reverence, Mucukunda replied, “O Lord, it is by your maya that people are deluded. They do not worship you, seeing only misfortune around them. Seeking happiness, they become attached to their homes, to women and men, and in this attachment, they are deceived. O sinless one, when someone attains this rare human birth, healthy and able, yet fails to worship your lotus feet due to a misguided mind, he falls into the dark well of household life, just like an animal. “O Unconquered Lord, my own time has passed fruitlessly. Intoxicated by royal opulence, absorbed in the fleeting notion of self, I was deeply attached to children, wife, wealth, and possessions, and tormented by endless anxieties. In this body, which is like a fragile clay pot, I was once established as ‘king of men,’ surrounded by chariots, elephants, horses, infantry, and retinues. I roamed the earth in great arrogance, counting no one as my equal. “Intoxicated with power, my mind was always noisy with thoughts of what to do next, my greed ever increasing, craving sense pleasures. But you, O Death—who is never bewildered—approach suddenly, like a snake licking at the mouth of a mouse’s hole. Once, I rode in chariots adorned with gold and on mighty elephants, called ‘king of men’ by all. But by the inescapable force of time, this very body becomes nothing but excrement, worms, or ashes. “Having conquered all directions, assuming a form vast as the earth, seated on a splendid throne and honored by other kings, a man is nevertheless led, O Lord, like a plaything of women, into the pleasures of home, as a beast for their sport. Even one who performs actions, firmly established in austerity, having renounced enjoyment and given charity as required, again desires, ‘May I become a sovereign king,’ and with growing thirst, never finds happiness. “But when, after wandering the world in endless existence, a person attains liberation, O Infallible One, it is then that he gains the association of the virtuous. And when such association occurs, at that very moment, devotion to you, Lord of all, arises. O Lord, I consider it your great favor that, by chance, my attachment to kingdom has been removed—something sought by the virtuous, who, desiring to enter the forest, renounce even vast domains. “O Master, I desire no boon other than service at your feet—service most sought after even by those who have nothing. For who, having worshipped you, the giver of liberation, would choose any other boon that binds the soul? Therefore, O Lord, abandoning all desires everywhere—those bound to passion, ignorance, and even goodness—I approach you, the pure, qualityless, nondual, supreme Person, who is pure consciousness. “For long I have been tormented by suffering and remorse, afflicted by enemies such as thirst, never finding peace. Now, by your grace, I have come to your lotus feet, O shelter-giving Supreme Soul. Protect me, O Lord who am helpless, with fearlessness, immortality, and freedom from sorrow.” The Blessed Lord replied, “O great king, ruler of the earth, your mind is pure and steadfast. Even when tempted by boons, you have not been disturbed by desires. Know that my offer of boons was only to test your vigilance, for the mind of those with exclusive devotion is never shaken by blessings. For those who practice yoga but lack devotion, O king, the mind—its desires undiminished—rises up again, even after control by breath and other means. Therefore, roam the earth as you wish, with your mind absorbed in me; may your devotion to me always be unwavering. “While established in the duty of a warrior, you have killed creatures in hunting and other ways. But now, intent on austerity and taking refuge in me, cast off all sin. In your next birth, O king, you will become the best of the twice-born, a supreme friend to all beings, and you will attain me alone.” Śuka continued: “Thus favored by Krishna, the son of Ikshvaku circumambulated the Lord, bowed down, and departed from the mouth of the cave. As he emerged, he observed the people, animals, herbs, and trees, and realized that the age of Kali had arrived. With this understanding, he turned toward the northern direction. Endowed with austerity and faith, resolute, free from attachment and doubt, he fixed his mind on Krishna and entered the Gandhamadana mountains. Reaching Badarī-āśrama, the abode of Nara and Narayana, he endured all dualities and, peaceful in mind, worshipped Hari through austerities. Meanwhile, the Lord returned to the city surrounded by the Yavana armies. There, he slew the barbarian forces and brought their wealth to Dvārakā. As the wealth, along with cows and men, was being transported under Acyuta’s direction, Jarāsandha—the king, with twenty-three mighty armies—arrived. Seeing the enemy army advancing swiftly and forcefully, Krishna and Balarāma, adopting the ways of ordinary men, quickly fled, O King. Though fearless, they left behind abundant wealth and appeared to the world as if they were afraid, traveling many yojanas on foot with their lotus-like feet. Seeing the two fleeing, the mighty king of Magadha laughed and pursued them with his chariot divisions, unaware of their true power. After running a great distance and becoming exhausted, the brothers climbed a high mountain called Pravarṣaṇa, where it always rains. Not finding their tracks on the mountain, the king, thinking them hidden, set fire to the mountain on all sides with burning materials. Then, leaping swiftly from the burning slope, both Krishna and Balarāma descended from the ten-yojana-high peak to the ground below. Unseen by the enemy and his followers, the best of the Yadus returned again to their city, which was protected by the ocean, O King. Believing falsely that Balarāma and Keśava had been burned, the king of Magadha withdrew his vast army and returned to Magadha. In the days that followed, the illustrious king of Ānarta, Raivata, prompted by Brahmā, gave his daughter Raivatī to Baladeva, just as had been decreed. And Govinda, the Lord, also married Vaidarbhī, the daughter of Bhīṣmaka and mother of Śrī, at her own svayaṃvara, O best of the Kurus. Having overpowered the kings—Śālva and the allies of Cedi—by force, before the eyes of all, Krishna took her as Garuḍa took the nectar. At this point, the king inquired: “It is said that the Lord married Rukmiṇī, the beautiful-faced daughter of Bhīṣmaka, by the rākṣasa rite. O Lord, I wish to hear how Krishna, of immeasurable brilliance, after conquering Jarāsandha, Śālva, and others, brought the maiden as his bride.” Thus, the sacred story unfolds, revealing the Lord’s boundless compassion, the transformation of the wise, and the wondrous deeds of the divine.