Tāmra, Antarikṣa, Śravaṇa, Vibhāvasu, Vasu, Nabhasvān, and Aruṇa, with Pīṭha—commander of their forces—at their head, marched forward, weapons in hand, ready for battle. These mighty warriors, sent by Naraka, the son of the earth, advanced with resolve to confront the unconquered Lord. When they reached Krishna, their fury erupted. Arrows, swords, maces, spears, javelins, and tridents flew at him, each weapon hurled with wrathful force. But Krishna, the Supreme Lord whose power never wavers, met their assault with calm mastery. With his own arrows, he shattered their weapons mid-flight, rendering their attack useless. Then, with his whirling discus and sharp arrows, Krishna struck down Pīṭha and his chiefs. Their heads, arms, legs, and armor were severed and fell, sending them to the abode of Yama, the god of death. Thus, Naraka’s champions were vanquished. Witnessing this devastation, Durmarṣaṇa, proud and defiant, charged forward atop elephants born from the ocean’s depths. Spotting Krishna seated with his beloved on Garuḍa, radiant like the sun crowned with lightning atop a cloud, Durmarṣaṇa hurled a terrible weapon meant to slay hundreds. Simultaneously, all the remaining warriors attacked together. But Krishna, the ancient wielder of the mace, unleashed a storm of sharp arrows from his wondrous chariot, cutting down the arms, thighs, heads, and bodies of the earth-born army. Horses and elephants, too, fell under his onslaught. O descendant of Kuru, whatever weapons the warriors launched—missiles, arrows, or blades—Hari cut them down with his own keen arrows and sword-tipped shafts, destroying every threat. Meanwhile, Garuḍa, the mighty Suparṇa, swept over the battlefield. With his wings, he struck the elephants, slaying them with his beak, talons, and wings, scattering the enemy ranks. Distressed and desperate, Naraka retreated into his city, fighting as he went, his army routed and tormented by Garuḍa’s might. In a final effort, Naraka hurled his weapon at Krishna. But the thunderbolt, though powerful, was repelled; even when it struck, Krishna did not tremble, just as a mighty elephant is unfazed by a garland. Determined, Naraka seized a spear to slay Krishna. But before he could release it, Krishna, seated upon Garuḍa, hurled his razor-edged discus. In an instant, Naraka’s head—adorned with shining earrings and a beautiful crown—was severed and fell to the earth, radiant in its descent. As the head touched the ground, sages and lords of the gods cried out, “Alas! Well done!” They showered Mukunda with garlands and praised his glory. Then the earth herself approached Krishna, bringing him earrings of radiant gold set with jewels, the Vaijayanti garland, a great jewel, and a royal umbrella. With devotion, she offered these treasures to the son of Prachetas. The goddess Bhūmi, worshipped even by the best of gods, stood before the Lord of the universe. With hands joined and her mind full of loving reverence, she praised him: “Obeisance to you, Lord of the gods, bearer of conch, discus, and mace, who assumes forms according to the wishes of your devotees. Supreme Soul, I bow to you. “Salutations to you, lotus-naveled one, adorned with a garland of lotuses, lotus-eyed one, whose feet are like lotuses. “Salutations to you, Bhagavan, Vāsudeva, Viṣṇu, Supreme Person, original seed, one of complete knowledge. “Obeisance to you, unborn one, creator of this universe, of infinite power, soul of all, supreme and immanent. “O unborn Lord, desiring to create, you assume fierce forms for dissolution; for the world’s stability, you are sattva. Time, matter, and the supreme person—you are all these. “Earth, water, fire, air, ether, the senses, gods, mind, and the great principle—all that moves and does not move, O Lord, in you, the non-dual, there is no delusion. “This son of yours, frightened, has taken refuge at your lotus feet, seeking relief from distress. Therefore, protect him—place your lotus hand, which removes all sin, upon his head.” Śuka said: Thus addressed with devotion and humility by Bhūmi, the Lord comforted her, granting assurance. Then he entered the splendid palace of Naraka. Within, Krishna beheld over sixteen thousand royal maidens whom Naraka had seized from the kings. These women, rescued from captivity, gazed in wonder as Krishna entered. Bewildered, yet filled with hope, each woman’s heart yearned for him as her chosen husband, feeling that fate itself had brought him to her. “May this one become my husband, and may the Creator approve it,” thought each maiden, her heart given to Krishna with her own unique longing. Krishna, compassionate and gracious, sent them to Dvārakā, arrayed in spotless garments, accompanied by attendants, great treasures, chariots, horses, and abundant wealth. Keśava also dispatched sixty-four swift, four-tusked, white elephants from the line of Airāvata, further enriching Dvārakā’s splendor. Then Krishna ascended to the abode of Indra, king of the gods, and presented Aditi with the divine earrings. Honored by Indra and his queen Indrani, Krishna fulfilled his promise. Urged by his beloved wife Satyabhama, Krishna uprooted the celestial Parijata tree, placed it upon Garuḍa, and, after defeating Indra and the gods, brought the tree to his city. He planted the Parijata in Satyabhama’s garden, its beauty enhancing her home. Bees, intoxicated by its heavenly fragrance, followed it from the realms above. Satyabhama, her crown touching Acyuta’s feet, bowed low and humbly begged Krishna to fulfill her heart’s desire. By granting her wish, the Lord showed his greatness—even as the pride of the gods was eclipsed. Then, in a single moment, Krishna, the immutable Lord, assumed as many forms as there were maidens and married each one in her own mansion. He dwelled with them, surpassing all comparison, delighting his consorts and immersing himself in his own desire, just as an ordinary householder lives with his wives. Thus, these women, having attained the Lord of Lakshmi as their husband—a path unknown even to Brahma and the gods—served Krishna with joy and ever-increasing love: with smiles, glances, intimacy, playful words, and bashfulness. Hundreds of maidservants also served the Lord—welcoming him, offering seats, worshipping, washing his feet, bringing betel, arranging for his rest, fanning him, offering fragrant garlands, arranging his hair, preparing his bed, bathing him, and presenting gifts. Thus concludes the fifty-ninth chapter, “The Taking of the Parijata Tree and the Slaying of Naraka,” in the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Now, once, Bhāīṣmī—Satyabhama—attended to her husband, Krishna, the teacher of the world, as he sat happily upon his own bed, she and her companions gently fanning him. He, whose playful acts create, sustain, and destroy the universe, had been born among the Yadus to protect the cows and his own kin. Within that inner chamber, adorned with a necklace of hanging pearls, a jeweled canopy, and radiant lamps, garlands of jasmine and blossoms filled the air, and swarms of bees hummed sweetly. Pure moonlight streamed through lattice windows, while breezes carried the fragrance of the Parijata grove, rich with gardens, and the incense of aloe wood wafted gently out through the openings, filling the room with its sacred scent.