Rukmini, lost in thought, reflected on the mysterious arrival of a young man so like her own son. “My child was taken from me, stolen from the birthing chamber,” she pondered. “This youth, so similar in age and appearance—if he truly lives, where could he have been all this time?” She marveled at his uncanny resemblance to Krishna, the wielder of the Sharnga bow: his form, his limbs, his gait, even his voice, smile, and glance all mirrored Krishna’s so perfectly. Rukmini’s heart trembled with maternal affection; her left arm shook, and her love for this youth grew ever stronger. Surely, she thought, this must be the very son she had once carried in her womb. As Rukmini’s mind raced with these thoughts, Krishna himself, accompanied by Devaki and Vasudeva, entered. Though the all-knowing Lord remained silent, it was Narada who recounted the entire tale—the story of the child’s abduction, his upbringing, and the slaying of the demon Shambara who had stolen him away. Hearing this wondrous account, the women of Krishna’s household rejoiced, welcoming back the one who had been lost for so many years, as if he had returned from the dead. Devaki and Vasudeva, together with Krishna, Balarama, and their wives, embraced Rukmini and her son, their hearts overflowing with joy. The news quickly spread through Dvaraka: “Pradyumna, who was lost, has returned! By great fortune, the boy has come back to us as if from the dead!” The mothers of Dvaraka lavished Pradyumna with love, worshipping him with the same devotion they felt for their own husbands and fathers. Their affection for him grew with each passing day—a natural response, for in the land where Lakshmi’s reflection shines and love reigns supreme, what could those 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 Purana, Srimad Bhagavatam, sacred scripture of the supreme paramahamsa tradition. Now begins the fifty-sixth chapter. Shuka continued: Satrajit, having committed a wrong, sought to make amends by giving his own daughter to Krishna, personally presenting him with the Syamantaka jewel. The king asked, “What wrong did Satrajit commit against Krishna, O Brahmana? How did he acquire the Syamantaka jewel, and why did he offer his daughter to Hari?” Shuka replied: Satrajit was a great devotee and dear friend of the sun god. Pleased with his devotion, the sun bestowed upon him the radiant Syamantaka jewel. When Satrajit wore the jewel around his neck, he shone with a brilliance like the sun itself. Entering Dvaraka, his dazzling radiance was so intense that the people did not recognize him. From a distance, the citizens, awestruck by his glow, ran to Krishna—who was playing dice—and reported, “O Lord Narayana, salutations! Bearer of conch, discus, and mace, O Damodara, lotus-eyed Govinda, delight of the Yadus! The sun god himself approaches, eager to see you, his rays blinding our eyes.” They continued, “Surely, the greatest of gods seek your path throughout the three worlds. Knowing you dwell among the Yadus, today the unborn Lord himself comes to see you.” Krishna, hearing the excited chatter of the children, laughed gently and said, “That is not the sun god, but Satrajit, shining with the Syamantaka jewel.” Satrajit entered his splendid house, beautifully decorated for auspiciousness, and placed the jewel in his family shrine, consecrated by the brahmanas. Day after 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, Shouri (Krishna), asked Satrajit for the jewel—not out of desire for wealth, but for the good of his people—Satrajit refused, disregarding Krishna’s request. Later, Satrajit’s brother Prasena, wearing the brilliant jewel on his neck, rode into the forest on horseback to hunt. But a lion attacked, killing both Prasena and his horse, and carried the jewel away to a mountain cave. There, the lion was slain by Jambavat, the king of bears, who desired the jewel and gave it to his own child as a plaything. Back in Dvaraka, Satrajit, not seeing his brother return, was overcome with distress. Rumors began to spread: “He who wore the jewel-necklace was likely killed by Krishna in the forest—now his brother is gone.” These whispers passed from ear to ear, casting suspicion on Krishna. When the Lord heard that his own name was being tarnished, he set out with the citizens to clear himself, following Prasena’s path. In the forest, they found Prasena slain, his horse dead, and the lion who had killed them, now itself dead, struck down by a bear on the mountainside. Krishna alone entered the dreadful cave of the bear king, shrouded in deep darkness, leaving the people outside. There, he saw the precious Syamantaka jewel being used as a child’s toy. Krishna waited silently nearby, intending to retrieve it. The nurse, seeing an unfamiliar man, cried out in fear. Jambavat, the mighty king of bears, rushed in, enraged, and challenged Krishna, not recognizing his true nature. A fierce duel erupted between them—both eager for victory, they fought with weapons, stones, trees, and their own arms, like vultures battling over a piece of flesh. For twenty-eight days and nights, without rest, they struck each other with fists hard as thunderbolts. At last, Jambavat, his limbs battered and his strength spent, his body drenched in sweat, was overcome with astonishment. Humbled, he addressed Krishna: “I know now that you are the very life, vigor, strength, and power of all beings—Vishnu, the ancient Person, the supreme Lord and master. You are the creator of creators, and that which exists among the created. You are Time itself, the ruler of all who measure, the supreme Self, the self of all selves. By your mere sidelong glance, the ocean was stirred, a path revealed, a bridge built, Lanka’s fame established, and the heads of demons shattered by your arrows.” Recognizing the Lord, Jambavat approached Krishna, the son of Devaki, with reverence. Krishna, lotus-eyed and deep-voiced as a raincloud, gently touched Jambavat with his hand and spoke to his devotee with utmost compassion.