When the child was discovered within the fish, the astonished onlookers hastened to inform Māyāvatī, who was then working in the kitchen of the demon Shambara’s palace. Nārada, the divine sage, saw Māyāvatī’s anxious heart and revealed to her the truth about the child—his mysterious origin and the astonishing way he had come to be found inside the fish’s belly. Māyāvatī herself was none other than Rati, the renowned wife of Kāma, the god of love, who had been waiting patiently for the rebirth of her beloved husband, whose body had once been burnt to ashes. Assigned by Shambara to tend to the kitchen, Māyāvatī recognized at once that this child was indeed Kāma reborn. Overcome with affection, she cared for him tenderly. In due time, the boy—Pradyumna, son of Krishna—grew to full youth. His radiant beauty stirred the hearts of all the women who beheld him. Rati, now Māyāvatī, approached him, her eyes like lotus petals, her arms long and graceful. Beautiful among men, Pradyumna saw her casting bashful, smiling, sidelong glances, her eyebrows arched in playful affection. Perceiving her demeanor, Pradyumna gently spoke: “O lady, your mind is not that of a mother. You act toward me as a lover, not as a mother.” Rati replied, “You are the son of Nārāyaṇa, stolen from your home by the demon Shambara. I am your rightful wife, Rati, and you, my lord, are Kāma himself. That wicked Shambara cast you, a mere infant, into the ocean, where a great fish swallowed you. From its belly, my lord, you have come here.” She continued, “Now, slay this formidable and seemingly unconquerable enemy—Shambara, who is skilled in hundreds of illusions. Use your own powers of illusion, delusion, and more, to defeat him. Your mother, Rukmini, 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, who was herself great in magical arts, bestowed upon the noble Pradyumna the supreme knowledge—one that destroys all sorcery. Armed with this wisdom, Pradyumna approached Shambara and challenged him to battle, provoking the demon with taunts that could not be endured. Enraged by these words, like a serpent struck by a foot, Shambara stormed out, mace in hand, his eyes burning red with fury. He whirled his mace and hurled it at Pradyumna, roaring with a sound as thunderous as a storm striking rock. Pradyumna, however, cast aside the incoming mace and, seizing his own, hurled it in anger at his foe. Shambara, relying on his mastery of illusion, unleashed a rain of magical weapons from the sky. Afflicted by this downpour, Pradyumna, son of Rukmini and Krishna and a mighty chariot-warrior, invoked a supreme mantra of pure essence—one that dispels all illusions. The demon then employed hundreds of secret spells: Gandharva magic, ghostly arts, serpent sorceries, and rakshasa tricks. Yet Krishna’s son dispelled them all with ease. Finally, raising a sharp sword, adorned with a crown and earrings, Pradyumna severed Shambara’s head from his body with great force, the demon’s copper-colored beard shining as his head fell. The gods, delighted by this heroic deed, showered Pradyumna with praises and heaps of flowers. Māyāvatī, his wife, carried him through the sky, moving with the grace of a celestial. They entered the splendid inner chambers, crowded with hundreds of women, arriving from the heavens like lightning flashing within a cloud. The women beheld him: dark as a rain cloud, clad in yellow silk, with long arms, coppery eyes, a beautiful face, and a gentle smile. His lotus-like face was adorned with blue curling locks. Mistaking him for Krishna himself, the women shyly hid themselves here and there. Gradually, with a touch of embarrassment, the women realized that this was not Krishna but someone else. Joyfully, they approached, marveling at the precious jewel who had come among them. Vaidarbhi—Rukmini, dark-eyed and sweet-spoken—remembered her lost son, her heart swelling with affection. She wondered, “Who is this jewel among men, this lotus-eyed youth? Whose son is he? By whom was he carried in the womb? Who is this woman by whom he has been gained?” She recalled, “My own son was lost, taken from the birthing chamber. This youth is of similar age and form—if he lives somewhere, where could it be? How has he attained such resemblance to Krishna—the wielder of the Sharnga bow—in form, limbs, gait, voice, smile, and glance? Surely, he must be the very child I carried in my womb. My left arm trembles with affection, and my love for him grows stronger.” While Rukmini thus pondered, Krishna—the illustrious son of Devaki—arrived with his parents, Devaki and Vasudeva. Though Lord Janardana knew all, he remained silent, allowing Nārada to recount the entire story: Pradyumna’s miraculous rescue and the slaying of Shambara. Hearing this wondrous tale, the women of Krishna’s household rejoiced, welcoming Pradyumna, lost for so many years, as if he had returned from the dead. Devaki, Vasudeva, Krishna, Balarama, and their wives embraced the reunited couple, and Rukmini too rejoiced. News spread throughout Dvārakā: “Ah! The boy has come back as if from the dead—by great good fortune!” Pradyumna was worshipped by the mothers, who adored him with the affection due to their lord and father. Their love for him grew daily. Yet, what wonder is this? In the reflection of Lakshmi’s abode, in the realm of desire and love, what could those lacking in virtue possibly do? Thus concludes the fifty-fifth chapter, “The Account of Pradyumna’s Birth,” in the tenth book, second part, of the great Purāṇa Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the scripture of the supreme paramahaṃsa tradition. Now begins the fifty-sixth chapter. Śrī Śuka continued: Satrājit, having committed a wrong, sought to make amends by personally offering his own daughter to Krishna, along with the Syamantaka jewel. The king inquired, “What wrong did Satrājit do to Krishna, O Brāhmaṇa? From where did he acquire the Syamantaka? Why did he give his daughter to Hari?” Śrī Śuka replied: Satrājit was a great devotee and close friend of the sun god. Pleased with his devotion, the sun god bestowed upon him the Syamantaka jewel. When Satrājit wore the jewel around his neck, he shone with the brilliance of the sun itself. Entering Dvārakā, his radiance was so dazzling that the people could not recognize him.