After the tumultuous events at Kuṇḍina, one king, defeated by the Lord and the daughter of Bhīṣmaka, stood apart in anger, vowing, “I will not enter Kuṇḍina.” Along with the other kings, he remained outside, unable to accept his loss. Meanwhile, Kṛṣṇa, having won Rukmiṇī’s hand, brought her to the city with all proper rites. O best of the Kurus, their marriage was celebrated with great joy. In every house of the Yadu city, those devoted solely to Kṛṣṇa, the Lord of the Yadus, rejoiced in a grand festival. Men and women, their hearts delighted, adorned themselves with polished jeweled earrings and splendid garments. They brought gifts for the radiant couple, who shone with happiness. The city of the Vṛṣṇis was transformed: banners like those of Indra fluttered, wondrous garlands and fine garments decorated the streets, jeweled gateways stood at every entrance, and auspicious arrangements—full water pots, incense, and lamps—glowed warmly at each gate. The streets were sprinkled with fragrant, intoxicating waters. At the gates, majestic elephants summoned by beloved kings stood proudly. Rows of plantain and areca trees added to the city’s splendor. The Kurus, Sṛñjayas, Kaikeyas, Vidarbhas, Yadus, and Kuntis mingled together, their excitement unmistakable as they hurried about in celebration. Everywhere, people sang the tale of Rukmiṇī’s abduction. Kings and princesses alike listened in astonishment, marveling at the extraordinary events. In Dvārakā, O king, immense joy filled the hearts of the citizens as they witnessed Kṛṣṇa, the Lord of fortune, united with Rukmiṇī and Balarāma. Śuka then continued: The god Kāma, a portion of Vāsudeva who had once been burned by Rudra’s anger, was reborn in order to take a new embodied form. This being, endowed with Kṛṣṇa’s power and born of Vaidarbhi Rukmiṇī, became renowned as Pradyumna. In every way, he was not inferior to his illustrious father. But Shambara, a master of illusion, knew this infant would be his enemy. He abducted the child, who was still helpless, and cast him into the sea before returning home. There, a powerful fish swallowed the child. Later, fishermen caught this fish in a great net, along with others. The fishermen brought the fish as a gift to Shambara. The cooks, preparing to cut it open in the kitchen, discovered the child inside. Startled, they reported this to Māyāvatī. Her mind troubled, Māyāvatī received Nārada, who revealed to her the child’s true origin and the story of how he came to be in the fish’s belly. Māyāvatī was none other than Rati, the famed wife of Kāma, who had been waiting for her husband’s rebirth after his body was burned. Assigned by Shambara to the kitchen, Māyāvatī recognized the child as Kāma himself and was filled with affection for him. In a short time, Pradyumna, the son of Kṛṣṇa, grew to full youth. His beauty stirred the hearts of all the women who gazed upon him. Rati, recognizing her beloved, approached him—her eyes like lotus petals, her arms long, and her glance bashful, smiling, and filled with playful love. Pradyumna, the son of Kṛṣṇa, said to her, “O lady, your mind is not that of a mother; you behave toward me as a lover, not as a mother.” Rati replied, “You are the son of Nārāyaṇa, abducted from your home by Shambara. I am your rightful wife, Rati, and you, lord, are Kāma. That demon cast you, an infant, into the ocean; a fish swallowed you, and from its belly, lord, you have come here. Now, you must slay this formidable, unconquerable enemy of yours, skilled in hundreds of illusions, by your own powers of illusion—delusion and the like. Your mother grieves for you like a kurarī bird bereft of her young, overwhelmed by maternal love, helpless as a cow pained without her calf.” Having spoken thus, Māyāvatī, great in magic, bestowed upon noble Pradyumna the supreme knowledge that destroys all sorcery. Armed with this wisdom, Pradyumna approached Shambara and boldly challenged him to battle, provoking him with taunts that could not be endured. Enraged, Shambara stormed out, mace in hand, his eyes blazing red with fury. Roaring like thunder striking stone, he whirled his mace and hurled it at Pradyumna. But Pradyumna, the Lord, angrily hurled his own mace, casting aside Shambara’s weapon. The demon, relying on his mastery of illusion, unleashed a rain of magical weapons from the sky. Afflicted by this shower, Pradyumna, the great chariot-warrior and son of Rukmiṇī, invoked a supreme mantra of pure essence, which destroys all illusions. Shambara then employed hundreds of secret spells—Gandharva, ghost, serpent, and rakshasa magic—but Kṛṣṇa’s son dispelled them all. Raising a sharp sword, adorned with crown and earrings, Pradyumna severed Shambara’s head from his body with great force, the demon’s copper-colored beard shining as it fell. The gods, witnessing this victory, showered Pradyumna with praises and heaps of flowers. With his wife Māyāvatī, who moved like a celestial being, he soared through the sky. They entered the splendid inner chambers, crowded with hundreds of women, arriving like lightning flashing within a cloud. Seeing him—dark as a rain cloud, clad in yellow silk, with long arms, coppery eyes, a beautiful face and a gentle smile, adorned with blue curling locks—the women mistook him for Kṛṣṇa and shyly hid themselves, here and there. Gradually, realizing their mistake, the women, though slightly embarrassed, approached joyfully, amazed at the precious jewel among them. Then Vaidarbhi Rukmiṇī, dark-eyed and sweet-spoken, remembered her lost son, her heart overflowing with affection. She wondered, “Who is this jewel among men, lotus-eyed? Whose son is he? By whom was he carried in the womb? Who is this woman who has gained him, or by whom was he obtained? My own son was lost, taken from the birthing chamber. This one is of similar age and form—if he lives somewhere, where could it be?” Thus, the wondrous tale of Pradyumna’s birth, abduction, and triumphant return unfolded, filling all with awe and joy.