Carried aloft by the mighty Suparṇa, Garuḍa, whose wings flashed like thunderclouds, swept through the enemy ranks, striking down the elephants with the force of his pinions. With his powerful beak, sharp wings, and terrible claws, Garuḍa slew the war-elephants, scattering the army of Naraka in every direction. Seeing his forces routed and tormented by Garuḍa’s onslaught, Naraka, the earth-born asura, was filled with distress. He fought his way back into his city, determined to make a stand. In desperation, Naraka hurled his weapon—a thunderbolt—at Krishna, but the Lord was unmoved; the blow glanced off him as lightly as a garland would upon a mighty elephant. Undeterred, Naraka seized a great spear, intent on slaying Acyuta. But before he could even release it, Hari, with a swift motion, cast his razor-edged discus. The discus flew through the air and severed Naraka’s head as he sat upon his elephant. Naraka’s head, resplendent with golden earrings and a beautiful crown, shone brilliantly as it fell to the earth. The sages and lords of the gods, witnessing this act, cried out in wonder, exclaiming, “Alas! Well done!” and they praised Mukunda, showering him with fragrant garlands. Then Bhūmi, the earth goddess herself, approached Krishna. She brought with her radiant earrings of refined gold and jewels, the glorious Vaijayanti garland, a great jewel, and a royal umbrella. With devotion, she offered these treasures to Krishna, the son of Prachetas. The goddess, revered even by the best of the gods, stood before the Lord of the universe, her hands joined and her mind filled with loving reverence. With humility, she praised him, saying, “Obeisance to you, Lord of the gods, bearer of conch, discus, and mace—who takes 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, whose feet are like lotuses. Salutations to you, Bhagavan Vāsudeva, Viṣṇu, the Supreme Person, source of all, of complete knowledge. Obeisance to you, unborn creator of the universe, of infinite power, soul of all, supreme and immanent. “O unborn Lord, desiring to create, you take fierce forms to bring about dissolution; for the world’s stability, you embody sattva. Time, matter, and the supreme person—all these are you. Earth, water, fire, air, ether, the senses, gods, mind, and the great principle—all that moves and does not move is in you, the non-dual; in you, delusion does not exist. “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 continued: Thus addressed with devotion and humility by Bhūmi, the Lord assured her and entered the splendid palace of the earth-born Naraka. There, Hari beheld more than sixteen thousand royal maidens, whom Naraka had seized from the kings he had conquered. When these maidens saw Krishna, the best of men, enter, their hearts were bewildered with hope and longing. Each one, feeling destiny itself had brought him, wished for Krishna to be her husband. “May this one become my husband, and may the Creator approve it,” each thought, offering her heart to Krishna. Krishna, compassionate and noble, sent these maidens to Dvārakā, adorned in spotless garments, accompanied by attendants, treasures, chariots, horses, and abundant wealth. Keśava also dispatched sixty-four swift, four-tusked, white elephants from the line of Airāvata. Then, journeying to the abode of the lord of the gods, Krishna presented the radiant earrings to Aditi, the mother of the gods. There, he was honored by Indra, king of the gods, and his beloved Indrani. At Satyabhama’s request, Krishna uprooted the celestial Parijata tree, placed it upon Garuḍa, and, after besting the gods and Indra himself, brought the tree triumphantly to his city. He planted the Parijata tree for Satyabhama, beautifying her palace gardens. The bees of heaven, greedy for its fragrance, followed the tree from the celestial realms. Satyabhama, overwhelmed with joy, bowed at Krishna’s feet, her crown brushing his toes, and begged him to fulfill her heartfelt desire. By granting this, Krishna’s greatness was further revealed—alas, how deep is the darkness of pride among the gods! Then, in a single moment, the Lord, unchanging and all-powerful, assumed as many forms as there were maidens, and married each one in her own mansion. Dwelling in their homes, surpassing all comparison, Krishna delighted with his consorts, living among them as an ordinary householder might with his wives. Thus, the women, having attained the Lord of Lakshmi as their husband—a path even Brahma and the greatest knowers cannot comprehend—served him with joy and ever-deepening love, through smiles, glances, intimate union, playful words, and bashfulness. Hundreds of maidservants also attended to Krishna with acts of service—greeting him, offering seats, worship, washing his feet, presenting betel, providing rest, fanning him, bringing fragrant garlands, arranging his hair, preparing his bed, bathing him, and presenting gifts. Thus concludes the fifty-ninth chapter, entitled “The Taking of the Parijata Tree and the Slaying of Naraka,” in the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, scripture for the paramahaṃsas. Once, Bhāīṣmī—Rukmini—attended to her husband, the teacher of the world, as he sat contentedly upon his own bed, fanned by her and her companions. He, who by his playful will creates, sustains, and destroys the universe, had been born among the Yadus to protect the cows and his own kin. Within the inner chamber, adorned with a hanging pearl necklace, a canopy, and jeweled lamps, garlands of jasmine and other flowers hung, and the air hummed with the sound of bees. Pure moonlight streamed through the lattice windows, and breezes carried the fragrance of the Parijata grove, mingling with the scent of aloe incense wafting through the openings. Upon a most excellent couch, white as milk foam, Rukmini attended to her Lord as he sat comfortably. Taking a yak-tail fan with a jeweled handle from her companion, the goddess fanned Krishna, offering her worship. Her anklets of jewels softly rang as she moved; her hands, adorned with rings and bangles, gracefully wielded the fan. Her necklace, reddened by the saffron of her breasts beneath her garment, and her hips encircled by a priceless girdle, made her shine beside Acyuta. Seeing her—beauty and fortune personified, with no other refuge, who by her play had assumed a form matching his own—Hari was pleased. Smiling with his curling locks, radiant earrings, and glittering necklace, nectar-like smiles upon his lips, he spoke to her: “O princess, you were sought after by kings—the guardians of the world—endowed with great power, wealth, beauty, generosity, and strength. Rejecting all those suitors, scorning proud kings like Shishupala and others, you were given by your brother and father—why did you not choose someone equal to yourself?