By the mere sidelong glance of the Lord—raised ever so slightly in anger—the mighty ocean was stirred, its depths parted to reveal a path, and a bridge was built across its waters. Thus was Lanka’s fame made to shine, and the heads of the demon host were shattered by his arrows, falling to the earth in defeat. Recognizing this Lord, Achyuta, the son of Devakī, the king of bears—Jāmbavān—addressed him, O King. Krishna, whose eyes are like lotuses, touched him with his gentle hand and spoke in a voice deep as a raincloud, overflowing with compassion for his devotee. “O king of bears,” Krishna said, “I have come to your cave for the sake of the jewel, to clear myself of false accusation, and I will do so with this very gem.” Hearing these words, Jāmbavān was filled with joy. In honor of Krishna, he gladly gave his own daughter, Jāmbavatī, and the precious jewel to the Lord. Meanwhile, those outside, who had seen Śauri—Krishna—enter the cave but not emerge, waited anxiously for twelve days. Their hearts heavy with sorrow, they finally returned to their city. News that Krishna had not emerged from the cave spread, causing deep grief to Devakī, the queen, along with Rukmiṇī, Vasudeva, and all their friends and relatives. The sorrowful citizens of Dvārakā, blaming Satrājit for their distress, sought solace and answers from the goddess Candra-bhāgā, Durgā, hoping for news of Krishna. Moved by their worship, the goddess instructed them with a blessing, and soon Hari—Krishna—having accomplished his purpose, appeared with his new wife, bringing relief and great joy to all. When Hṛṣīkeśa, adorned with the jewel and accompanied by his wife, returned as if from the very jaws of death, the people’s hearts overflowed with festivity and celebration. Krishna then summoned Satrājit into the royal assembly. In the presence of the king, he recounted how the jewel had been recovered and presented it to Satrājit. Satrājit, greatly ashamed, took the gem, his face cast down, and returned to his house, tormented by the weight of his own wrongdoing. Disturbed by intense remorse and inner conflict, Satrājit pondered, “How can I cleanse myself of this sin? How might I please Acyuta? What can I do so that people consider me virtuous and not curse me as short-sighted, petty, foolish, and greedy for wealth? I will give him my daughter, a jewel among women, along with the gem itself. This is the proper way to seek his forgiveness; there is no other.” Thus resolved, Satrājit personally brought his virtuous daughter, Satyabhāmā, and the jewel, and offered them both to Krishna. The Lord duly married Satyabhāmā, who was sought by many for her character, beauty, and noble qualities. Yet 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.” Some time later, Śuka continued: Once, the Supreme Person, Krishna, accompanied by his attendants like Yuyudhāna, traveled 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 to them. They embraced Acyuta, and the touch of his limbs freed them from all distress. Gazing upon his affectionate, smiling face, they rejoiced. Krishna offered obeisance at the feet of Yudhiṣṭhira and Bhīma, embraced Arjuna, and was honored by the twin brothers, Nakula and Sahadeva. Kṛṣṇā—Draupadī—who was recently married and somewhat bashful, approached and respectfully greeted Krishna, who was seated on the chief seat. Satyaki, too, was honored and greeted by the Pāṇḍavas, taking his seat, as did the other honored guests. Krishna then approached Kuntī, offered his salutations, and was embraced by her, her eyes moist with deep affection. He inquired about her welfare, that of her daughters-in-law, her sister, and all her relatives. Kuntī, remembering the many hardships she had endured and the vision of the Self that comes after suffering, spoke to Krishna with a voice choked by love and eyes filled with tears. She said, “Only when we gained a protector did our well-being arise; remembering our kin, O Krishna, my brother was sent to you. For you, who are the friend and 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 then 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.” Thus, at the king’s request, Krishna remained in Indraprastha for several months, delighting the eyes and hearts of all the people. One day, Arjuna, the great conqueror, mounted his chariot bearing the banner of Hanuman, taking up his mighty Gāṇḍīva bow and inexhaustible quivers. Together with Krishna, both fully armed, he entered a vast forest teeming with wild beasts, seeking to enjoy the sport of the hunt. There, Arjuna’s arrows struck tigers, boars, buffaloes, antelopes, sarabhas, wild oxen, rhinoceroses, deer, hares, and porcupines. The attendants gathered the sanctified animals and brought them to the king as a festival approached. Parched with thirst and weary, Arjuna went to the Yamunā river. After performing purification and drinking the clear water, the two mighty warriors, Krishna and Arjuna, beheld a maiden of enchanting beauty wandering nearby. Approaching this noble, radiant maiden of auspicious form, Arjuna—at Krishna’s request—questioned her, for she was truly the best of women. He asked, “Who are you, O slender-waisted one? Whose daughter are you, and from where do you come? What do you seek? I think you desire a husband. Tell me everything, O beautiful one.” The maiden replied, “I am Kālindī, daughter of the sun-god Sūrya, seeking a husband. I have undertaken severe austerities, desiring Viṣṇu, the bestower of boons, as my chosen lord. I choose no other husband but him, the abode of Śrī; may that blessed Mukunda, the refuge of the shelterless, be pleased with me. Known as Kālindī, I dwell in the waters of the Yamunā, in a palace built by my father, until I behold the infallible one.” Thus, the Lord’s compassion and glory continued to shine, bestowing joy and fulfillment upon all who sought his refuge.