In the great hall of the Pāṇḍavas, Satyaki arrived and was received with honor and affection. The Pāṇḍavas greeted him respectfully and offered him a seat, and those who accompanied him were also welcomed and seated nearby. Satyaki then approached Kuntī, bowing before her. With eyes brimming with deep affection, Kuntī embraced him warmly. He inquired after her well-being, that of her daughters-in-law, her sister, and all her relatives, expressing his concern for each member of the family. As she remembered the many hardships they had endured, Kuntī’s heart swelled with emotion. Having experienced suffering and the revelation of the Self that often follows it, she spoke to Satyaki with a voice choked by love and eyes filled with tears. “Only when we gained a protector did our well-being truly begin,” she said. “Remembering our kin, O Kṛṣṇa, my brother was sent to you. For you are the friend and inner Self of all beings; in your vision, there is no distinction between ‘us’ and ‘them’. Dwelling in the heart, you unfailingly dispel the sorrows of those who remember you.” Yudhiṣṭhira, too, addressed Kṛṣṇa, saying, “What good have we left undone, O Lord? I cannot say, for you, who are rarely seen even by the greatest yogis, have appeared before us, though we are of little wisdom.” Thus invited, Lord Kṛṣṇa remained in Indraprastha for several months, delighting the hearts and eyes of all who dwelt there. One day, Arjuna, the great conqueror, mounted his chariot bearing the Hanuman banner and took up his mighty Gāṇḍīva bow and inexhaustible quivers. Together with Kṛṣṇa, both fully armed, he ventured into a vast forest teeming with wild beasts, seeking sport, as was his wont. In that forest, Arjuna’s arrows struck down tigers, boars, buffaloes, antelopes, sarabhas, wild oxen, rhinoceroses, deer, hares, and porcupines. The attendants gathered these sanctified animals and brought them to the king as a festival approached. Weary and parched with thirst from the hunt, Arjuna made his way to the banks of the Yamunā. There, after performing purification and drinking the clear water, Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa, those two mighty heroes, beheld a maiden of enchanting beauty wandering nearby. Drawn by her radiance, Arjuna, at Kṛṣṇa’s behest, approached the noble and auspicious maiden and questioned her gently: “Who are you, O slender-waisted one? Whose daughter are you, and from where do you come? What is your purpose here? I sense you seek a husband. Tell me everything, O beautiful one.” The maiden replied, “I am Kālindī, daughter of the sun-god Sūrya. 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, refuge of the shelterless, be pleased with me. Until I see the infallible one, I dwell in the waters of the Yamunā, in a palace built by my father.” Hearing her words, Arjuna conveyed them to Vāsudeva. Understanding the matter, Kṛṣṇa placed Kālindī upon his chariot and brought her to King Yudhiṣṭhira. Later, as instructed, Kṛṣṇa had the wondrous city of Indraprastha built for the sons of Pritha, constructed in marvelous fashion by the divine architect Viśvakarma. Residing there to please his own people, Kṛṣṇa then became Arjuna’s charioteer to help Agni, the fire-god, consume the Khandava forest. Pleased by their service, Agni rewarded Arjuna with a bow, a chariot drawn by white horses, two inexhaustible quivers, impenetrable armor, and divine weapons. Maya, the architect who had been rescued from the fire, brought a magnificent assembly hall as a token of friendship—a hall in which Duryodhana would later be bewildered, mistaking water for land. Having been permitted by Yudhiṣṭhira and with his friends’ approval, Kṛṣṇa then returned to Dvārakā, accompanied by Satyaki and others. At an auspicious time and season, Kṛṣṇa married Kālindī, spreading supreme joy among his people and bringing about the highest good. Meanwhile, Vinda and Anuvinda, the princes of Avanti and followers of Duryodhana, prevented their sister, who was devoted to Kṛṣṇa, from choosing her own husband at the svayamvara. Yet Kṛṣṇa, undeterred, seized Mitravindā, the daughter of the chief queen and his father’s sister, before the assembled kings. There was also a king named Nagnajit, ruler of Kosala, renowned for his righteousness. His daughter, Satyā—also called Nagnajitī—was famed for her beauty and virtue. But none of the kings could win her without first subduing seven fierce, sharp-horned, untamable bulls, proud of their strength. Hearing that the prize of the bulls was attainable, Kṛṣṇa, master of the Sātvatas, journeyed to the city of Kosala, accompanied by a great army. The king of Kosala, pleased by his arrival, honored him with all due marks of respect. Seeing Kṛṣṇa, the suitor she desired, arrive, the princess Satyā yearned for him, praying that her vows would be fulfilled and that he would become her husband. Yet she wondered how such a Lord, whose lotus feet are worshipped by Lakṣmī, Brahmā, Śiva, and all the guardians of the worlds—he who built a bridge for his own purposes—could be satisfied with her. Worshipped again by the king, Nārāyaṇa, Lord of the universe, declared, “What could I, who am full in my own bliss, do with something meager?” Delighted, the Blessed Lord accepted the seat offered to him and, with a voice deep as a cloud, smiled and spoke to King Nagnajit: “O King, begging is condemned for a kṣatriya who follows his dharma. Yet, desiring your friendship, I ask for your daughter’s hand—not for a bride-price, for we do not give that.” The king replied, “Who else, O Lord, could be greater or more desirable as a suitor for my daughter, when the unfailing goddess of fortune dwells upon your person, the sole abode of all virtues? Yet, O best of the Sātvatas, we had previously made an agreement: to test the strength of suitors, the hand of my daughter would be won through a contest. These seven fierce and unmanageable bulls have defeated and injured many princes who tried. If you alone, O delight of the Yadus, can subdue them, then you shall be the chosen husband of my daughter, O Lord of Śrī.” Hearing this, the Lord fastened his garment, multiplied himself into seven forms, and, playfully, subdued the mighty bulls.