Jāmbavān, the king of bears, fought fiercely against Lord Krishna, his own master, mistaking him for an ordinary man. Consumed by anger, he failed to recognize Krishna’s true divine power. The battle between them was intense, both yearning for victory, wielding weapons, hurling stones and trees, and even using their own arms, like vultures locked in combat over a piece of flesh. For twenty-eight days and nights, without pause, they struck each other relentlessly with fists as hard as thunderbolts. Eventually, Jāmbavān, battered and bound by Krishna’s mighty blows, his strength depleted and body drenched in sweat, was filled with astonishment. He addressed Krishna, acknowledging, “I know you are the life, vigor, strength, and power of all beings—Viṣṇu, the ancient person, the supreme lord and master. You are the creator of creators and the essence of all creation; you are Time itself, the supreme Self, and the self of all selves.” Jāmbavān recalled Krishna’s past deeds: “By your mere sidelong glance, raised in anger, the ocean was stirred, a path revealed, a bridge built, Lanka’s fame made to shine, and the heads of demons fell shattered by arrows.” Recognizing Krishna as the Lord, Jāmbavān spoke to Achyuta, the son of Devakī. With compassion, lotus-eyed Krishna touched Jāmbavān and spoke, his voice deep as a cloud: “O king of bears, I have come to your cave for the sake of the jewel, to clear myself of the false accusation, with this very jewel.” Joyful at these words, Jāmbavān honored Krishna by giving him his own daughter, Jāmbavatī, and the precious jewel. Meanwhile, those who had accompanied Krishna waited outside the cave for twelve days, sorrowful when he did not emerge. They returned to their city, grief-stricken. News of Krishna’s absence reached Devakī, Rukmiṇī, Vasudeva, friends, and relatives, plunging them into mourning. The citizens of Dvārakā, distressed, cursed Satrājit and approached the goddess Candra-bhāgā, Durgā, seeking news of Krishna. Moved by their worship, the goddess blessed them, and Hari, accomplished in his purpose and now with his wife, appeared, bringing joy to all. Seeing Hṛṣīkeśa return, adorned with the jewel and accompanied by his wife, as if back from death, everyone celebrated with great festivity. Krishna summoned Satrājit into the assembly before the king, recounted the recovery of the jewel, and presented it to him. Ashamed, Satrājit took the gem and, his face cast down, returned home, tormented by his own wrongdoing. Overwhelmed with remorse, he pondered, “How can I cleanse myself of this sin? How might Acyuta be pleased with me? What should I do so people see me as virtuous, not as petty or greedy?” Resolved, he thought, “I will give Krishna my daughter, a jewel among women, along with the gem itself. This is the proper way for his appeasement; there is no other.” Thus determined, Satrājit personally brought his virtuous daughter and the jewel, offering them to Krishna. The Lord duly married Satyabhāmā, sought by many for her character, beauty, and noble qualities. Krishna said, “We do not accept the jewel, O King. Let it remain with you, a devotee of the gods, while we partake of its benefit.” Once, the Supreme Person, Krishna, adorned with attendants such as Yuyudhāna, journeyed to Indraprastha to visit the Pāṇḍavas. Upon seeing Mukunda, the Lord of all, arrive, the heroic sons of Pāṇḍu rose together, as if life itself had returned. Embracing Acyuta, the heroes, freed from all distress by the touch of his limbs, beheld his affectionate, smiling face and rejoiced. Krishna offered obeisance at the feet of Yudhiṣṭhira and Bhīma, embraced Arjuna, and was honored by the twins. Draupadī, recently married and somewhat bashful, approached and respectfully greeted Krishna, who was seated on the chief seat. Satyaki, honored and respectfully greeted by the Pāṇḍavas, took his seat, and others honored also sat nearby. Krishna approached Kuntī, offered his salutations, and was embraced by her, her eyes moist from deep affection. He inquired about her welfare, that of her daughters-in-law, her sister, and all her relatives. Kuntī, recalling many hardships and the vision of the Self that comes after suffering, spoke to him with a voice choked by love and eyes filled with tears: “Only then did our well-being arise, when we gained a protector; remembering our kin, O Krishna, my brother was sent to you. For you, who are the friend and the Self of all, there is no confusion of ‘us’ and ‘them’; yet, dwelling in the heart, you always dispel the sorrows of those who remember you.” Yudhiṣṭhira said, “What good have we left undone? I do not know, O Lord, for you, who are rarely seen even by the masters of yoga, have been seen by us, who are of little wisdom.” Requested by the king, Krishna stayed for several months, delighting the people of Indraprastha. One day, Arjuna, the conqueror, mounted his chariot bearing the banner of Hanuman, took up his Gāṇḍīva bow and inexhaustible quivers. Together with Krishna, fully armed, he entered a great forest teeming with wild beasts, seeking sport and adventure. There, with his arrows, he struck tigers, boars, buffaloes, antelopes, sarabhas, wild oxen, rhinoceroses, deer, hares, and porcupines. The attendants brought those sanctified animals to the king as the festival approached. Parched with thirst and weary, Arjuna went to the Yamunā.