He entered the resplendent inner chambers, descending from the sky with his wife by his side, his arrival like a flash of lightning within a rain-laden cloud, amidst hundreds of women. His form was striking—dark as a monsoon cloud, draped in yellow silk, with long arms, copper-tinged eyes, a radiant face, and a gentle, captivating smile. His lotus-like face was framed by curling blue locks, and as he stood there, the women, mistaking him for Krishna himself, bashfully slipped away, hiding themselves here and there. Gradually, their shyness gave way to joyful wonder as they realized, with a touch of embarrassment, that this was not Krishna, but another jewel among men. They approached him, marveling at his extraordinary beauty. Among them was Vaidarbhi, sweet-spoken and dark-eyed, who, upon seeing the young man, was overwhelmed by memories of her lost son. Her heart surged with maternal affection, her breast moist with longing. She wondered, “Who is this jewel among men, with lotus eyes? Whose son is he? Who bore him? Who is the blessed woman who calls him her own?” Her thoughts turned to her own child, lost at birth, for this youth was of the same age and appearance. “If my son yet lives, where could he be?” she mused. She marveled at his remarkable resemblance to the wielder of the Sharnga bow—his form, his limbs, his gait, his voice, his smile, and even his glance. “Surely,” she thought, as her left arm trembled with affection, “this must be the very child I carried in my womb. My love for him grows ever stronger.” As Vaidarbhi pondered in this way, Krishna, the illustrious son of Devaki, arrived with his parents, Devaki and Vasudeva. Though the all-knowing Lord Janardana was present, he remained silent, and it was Narada who recounted the entire story—how the child had been lost, and the slaying of the demon Shambara. Hearing this wondrous tale, the women of Krishna’s inner chambers rejoiced, welcoming the one who had been lost for so many years, as if a soul had returned from the dead. Devaki and Vasudeva, along with Krishna, Balarama, and their wives, embraced the young couple, their hearts overflowing with happiness. Rukmini too was filled with joy. News spread throughout Dvārakā that Pradyumna, who had been lost, had returned, and the people exclaimed in amazement, “Ah! The boy has come back, as if from the dead—by great good fortune!” The mothers of Dvārakā adored Pradyumna, their affection for him growing stronger each day, as if he were their own lord and father. This was not surprising, for in the city that is the reflection of Lakshmi’s own abode, where desire and love flourish, what virtue could be lacking? Thus ends 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, decided to offer his own daughter to Krishna, personally presenting the Syamantaka jewel. The king then asked, “What wrong did Satrājit do to Krishna, O Brāhmaṇa? How did he come to possess the Syamantaka jewel? And why did he give his daughter to Hari?” Śrī Śuka replied: Satrājit was a great devotee and dear friend of the sun god. Pleased with his devotion, the sun god bestowed upon him the Syamantaka jewel. Wearing the dazzling jewel around his neck, Satrājit entered Dvārakā, his brilliance so intense that the people did not recognize him. From a distance, the citizens, astonished by his radiance, ran to Krishna, who was playing dice, and said, “O Nārāyaṇa, salutations to you, bearer of conch, discus, and mace, O Dāmodara, lotus-eyed Govinda, delight of the Yadus! The sun god himself approaches, wishing to see you, his rays so fierce they steal the sight of men. Surely the best of gods seek you throughout the three worlds; knowing you are hidden among the Yadus, today the unborn lord comes to see you.” Hearing the excited words of the children, Krishna, the lotus-eyed Lord, laughed and said, “That is not the sun god, but Satrājit, shining with the jewel.” Satrājit entered his splendid, auspiciously decorated house and placed the Syamantaka jewel in his family shrine, consecrated by brāhmaṇas. Day by day, the jewel produced eight loads of gold, and wherever it was worshipped, famine, calamity, snakebite, disease, and misfortune could not occur. When the Yadu king, Śauri (Krishna), requested the jewel, Satrājit, uninterested in wealth, refused and disregarded Krishna’s request. Later, Satrājit’s brother Prasena, wearing the radiant jewel around his neck, rode into the forest to hunt. There, a lion killed Prasena and his horse, seized the jewel, and carried it into a mountain cave. But in that cave, Jāmbavat, the king of bears, slew the lion, desiring the jewel for himself. Jāmbavat gave the jewel to his son as a plaything. Meanwhile, when Prasena did not return, Satrājit was consumed by grief. Rumors began to spread: “He who wore the jewel was likely slain by Krishna in the forest. Krishna must have taken his brother for himself.” These whispers passed from ear to ear. Hearing his own name maligned, Krishna, determined to clear himself, set out with the citizens, following Prasena’s trail. They found Prasena slain, his horse dead, and saw that the lion had been killed by a bear on the mountain slope. Krishna then entered alone into the dreadful, dark cave of the king of bears, leaving the people outside. Within, he saw the precious jewel being used as a child’s toy and resolved to retrieve it, waiting near the child. The nurse, startled by the unfamiliar man, cried out in fear. Hearing her cry, Jāmbavat, the mightiest of the strong, rushed in, enraged. Not recognizing Krishna as his own Lord, Jāmbavat fought him fiercely, thinking him an ordinary man. The two engaged in a terrible duel, both eager for victory, hurling weapons, stones, and trees, battling each other with their arms like vultures fighting over flesh. For twenty-eight days and nights, without rest, they struck each other with fists as hard as thunderbolts, locked in relentless combat.