Afflicted by a relentless shower of weapons, Rukmini’s son, the mighty chariot-warrior Pradyumna, invoked a supreme mantra of pure essence—a mantra renowned for its power to destroy all illusions. In response, the demon Shambara unleashed hundreds of secret spells, drawing upon the magic of Gandharvas, ghosts, serpents, and rakshasas. Yet Krishna’s son, unwavering, dispelled them all. Pradyumna then raised a sharp sword, his crown and earrings gleaming, and with great force severed Shambara’s head from his body. The demon’s copper-colored beard shone in the aftermath. Immediately, the gods showered Pradyumna with praises and heaps of flowers, and his wife carried him through the sky, moving with the grace of a celestial. Arriving in the splendid inner chambers, crowded with hundreds of women, Pradyumna entered from the sky with his wife, dazzling like lightning within a cloud. The women saw 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, and the women, mistaking him for Krishna, shyly hid themselves here and there. Gradually, with slight embarrassment, the women discerned who he was and approached joyfully, marveling at the precious jewel now among them. Vaidarbhi, Rukmini herself, dark-eyed and sweet-spoken, remembered her lost son, her breasts moist 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?” She reflected, “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.” While Vaidarbhi pondered thus, Krishna, the son of Devaki, arrived with Devaki and Vasudeva. Though knowing everything, Krishna remained silent. It was Narada who narrated the entire story, including the slaying of Shambara. Hearing this wondrous tale, the women of Krishna’s inner chambers rejoiced, welcoming Pradyumna, who had been lost for many years, as if returned from the dead. Devaki and Vasudeva, along with Krishna and Balarama and their wives, embraced the couple, and Rukmini too, rejoicing. News spread throughout Dvārakā: “Ah! The boy has come back as if from the dead—by good fortune!” Pradyumna, whom mothers worshipped again and again, feeling for him as they did for their own lord and father, grew ever more beloved. Yet, it was not strange—for in the reflection of Lakshmi’s abode, in the domain of longing and love, what could others, lacking virtue, 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, gave his own daughter to Krishna, personally offering the Syamantaka jewel. The king asked, “What wrong did Satrājit do to Krishna, O Brāhmaṇa? From where did he get 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 him, the sun bestowed upon Satrājit the Syamantaka jewel. Wearing the jewel around his neck, Satrājit entered Dvārakā, shining like the sun, and so radiant that the people did not recognize him. Seeing him from a distance, the people, dazzled by his brilliance, reported to Bhagavān, who was playing dice, suspecting that the sun god had come to visit. They said, “O Nārāyaṇa, 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 jewel in the shrine, consecrated by the brāhmaṇas. Day by day, the jewel produced eight loads of gold; famine, calamities, snake afflictions, diseases, and misfortune did not occur where the jewel was worshipped. When the Yadu king, Śauri, requested the jewel, Satrājit, not desiring wealth, refused to give it, disregarding the request. Once, Prasena, wearing the radiant jewel around his neck, mounted his horse and went hunting in the forest. A lion killed Prasena and his horse, seized the jewel, and entered a mountain cave. There, the lion was slain by Jāmbavat, who desired the jewel. Jāmbavat made the jewel a toy for his son in the cave. Meanwhile, not seeing his brother, Satrājit was greatly distressed. It was rumored, “He of the jewel-necklace was likely killed by Krishna and went to the forest; his brother is mine.” Hearing this, people whispered it from ear to ear. The Blessed Lord, hearing that his own name was stained with infamy, set out with the citizens to clear himself, following the path of Prasena. They saw Prasena slain, and his horse killed by a lion in the forest, and the lion itself killed by a bear on the mountain slope. Krishna alone entered the dreadful cave of the king of bears, shrouded in dense darkness, having stationed the people outside. There, seeing the precious jewel made into a child’s plaything, he resolved to take it and stood waiting near the child.