After receiving the supreme knowledge that destroys all sorcery from Māyāvatī, who excelled in magical arts, the noble Pradyumna was fully prepared to face his adversary. Armed with this wisdom, he boldly approached the demon Shambara and issued a challenge to battle, provoking him with biting taunts that Shambara could not endure, thus igniting a fierce conflict. Stung by Pradyumna’s words, Shambara was like a serpent struck by a foot—he burst forth in fury, eyes blazing red, brandishing a heavy mace in his hands. With a thunderous roar, he hurled his mace at Pradyumna, the sound of its flight echoing like thunder striking stone. But Pradyumna, the Lord, responded in anger: he flung his own mace at the demon, casting aside Shambara’s weapon as it sped toward him. Relying on his mastery of illusion, the demon began to unleash a barrage of magical weapons from the sky, raining them down upon Krishna’s valiant son. Afflicted by this shower of sorcery, Pradyumna, the great chariot-warrior and son of Rukmini, invoked a pure and supreme mantra—a sacred formula capable of destroying all illusions. The demon, undeterred, called forth hundreds of secret spells—those of Gandharvas, ghosts, serpents, and rakshasas—but Pradyumna, protected by the mantra, dispelled them all with ease. At last, Pradyumna, adorned with crown and earrings, raised a sharp sword. With great force, he severed Shambara’s head from his body, the demon’s copper-colored beard shining even in defeat. At that moment, the gods showered Pradyumna with praises and heaps of flowers. Māyāvatī, his devoted wife, bore him through the sky, her movement graceful and celestial. They entered the splendid inner chambers, which were crowded with hundreds of women. Pradyumna, accompanied by Māyāvatī, arrived from the sky like a flash of lightning within a cloud. The women beheld him: dark as a rain-laden cloud, clad in yellow silk, with long arms, coppery eyes, a beautiful face, and a gentle smile. His lotus-like face was framed by blue curling locks. Mistaking him for Krishna himself, the women shyly hid themselves here and there. Gradually, with some embarrassment, they realized their mistake. Amazed and overjoyed, they approached, marveling at this precious jewel among men. At that moment, Vaidarbhi—Rukmini herself—sweet-spoken and dark-eyed, remembered her lost son, her heart overflowing with maternal 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? How has he attained such resemblance to 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.” As Rukmini pondered these thoughts, Krishna—the illustrious son of Devakī—arrived with his parents, Devakī and Vasudeva. Though all-knowing, Krishna remained silent, allowing the sage Nārada to recount the entire tale, including the slaying of Shambara. Hearing this wondrous story, the women of Krishna’s household rejoiced, welcoming Pradyumna, who had been lost for so many years, as if he had returned from the dead. Devakī and Vasudeva, together with Krishna, Balarama, their wives, and Rukmini, embraced Pradyumna and Māyāvatī, rejoicing in their reunion. News of Pradyumna’s return spread quickly through Dvārakā. The people exclaimed in wonder, “Ah! The boy has come back as if from the dead—by good fortune!” Pradyumna, whom the mothers of Dvārakā worshipped again and again with the affection they felt for their own lords and fathers, grew dearer to them each day. Yet, this was not surprising, for in the reflection of Lakshmi’s abode—where desire and love dwell—what could others, lacking 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 spoke: Satrājit, having committed a wrong, offered his own daughter to Krishna and personally presented the Syamantaka jewel. The king inquired, “What wrong did Satrājit do to Krishna, O Brāhmaṇa? From where did he obtain the Syamantaka jewel? 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 him, the sun bestowed upon Satrājit the Syamantaka jewel. Wearing the radiant jewel around his neck, Satrājit entered Dvārakā, shining so brilliantly that people could not recognize him. Seeing him from a distance, the people, dazzled by his radiance, reported to Bhagavān, who was playing dice. They suspected that the sun god himself had come to visit. “O Nārāyaṇa,” they said, “salutations to you, bearer of conch, discus, and mace! O Dāmodara, lotus-eyed Govinda, delight of the Yadus! Here comes the sun, O lord of the world, wishing to see you, stealing the sight of men with his fierce rays. Surely, the best of the gods search for your path throughout the three worlds; knowing you are hidden among the Yadus, today the unborn lord comes to see you.” Śrī Śuka continued: Hearing the words of the children, the lotus-eyed Krishna laughed and said, “That is not the sun god, but Satrājit, shining with the jewel.” Satrājit entered his splendid house, decorated for auspiciousness, and placed the Syamantaka jewel in his shrine, where it was consecrated by brāhmaṇas. Day by day, the jewel produced eight loads of gold, and wherever it was worshipped, famine, calamity, snake afflictions, disease, and misfortune could not occur. When the Yadu king, Śauri (Krishna), requested the jewel, Satrājit, not desiring to part with his wealth, refused and disregarded the request. Once, Prasena, Satrājit’s brother, wore the radiant jewel around his neck and set out on horseback to hunt in the forest. There, a lion killed both Prasena and his horse, seized the jewel, and carried it into a mountain cave. But within that cave, the lion was slain by Jāmbavat, who desired the precious Syamantaka jewel for himself.