Naraka, overwhelmed by distress, entered his city, fighting fiercely along the way. Everywhere he looked, his once-mighty army was being routed and tormented by Garuḍa, the great celestial bird. In desperation, the earth-born demon hurled his weapon at the Lord, but the thunderbolt, instead of harming Krishna, was effortlessly repelled. Even when the weapon struck him, Krishna stood unshaken, as unbothered as an elephant garlanded with flowers. Undeterred, Naraka seized a spear, determined to kill Acyuta. But before he could even release it, Hari, seated majestically upon Garuḍa, swiftly severed Naraka’s head with his razor-sharp discus. The demon’s head, adorned with splendid earrings and a radiant crown, shone as it fell to the earth. Witnessing this, the assembled sages and lords of the gods exclaimed in awe, “Alas! Well done!” and showered Mukunda with garlands, offering praises for his glorious deed. Then, the earth herself approached Krishna. Bringing with her earrings gleaming with refined gold and jewels, the renowned Vaijayanti garland, a magnificent jewel, and a royal umbrella, she offered all these treasures to the son of Prachetas in reverence. Worshipped by the foremost of gods, the goddess Bhūmi, with hands joined and a mind filled with devotion, sang the Lord’s praises. With deep humility, she addressed Krishna: “Obeisance to you, Lord of the gods, bearer of the conch, discus, and mace! You who take forms to fulfill 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, the original source, the knower of all. Obeisance to you, the unborn creator of the universe, of infinite power, the soul of all, supreme and immanent. For the sake of creation, O unborn Lord, you assume fierce forms for dissolution, and for the world’s stability, you manifest as sattva. You are time, matter, and the Supreme Person—all these are you. Earth, water, fire, air, ether, the senses, the gods, the mind, and the great principle—all that moves and does not move, O Lord, abides in you, the non-dual, untouched by delusion. This son of yours, terrified, has sought refuge at your lotus feet, seeking relief from distress—please, protect him, and place your sin-destroying lotus hand upon his head.” Hearing these words of devotion and humility, the Lord assured Bhūmi and entered the opulent palace of the earth-born Naraka. Inside, Hari beheld more than sixteen thousand royal maidens, whom Naraka had seized after rescuing them from various kings. As Krishna entered, these women, bewildered and awestruck, felt in their hearts that fate itself had brought their chosen husband to them. Each one, with her own longing, thought, “May this one become my husband, and may the Creator approve it,” and surrendered her heart to Krishna. Krishna, compassionate and generous, arranged for all these maidens to be sent to Dvārakā, adorned in spotless garments, accompanied by attendants, abundant treasures, chariots, horses, and great wealth. Keśava also dispatched sixty-four swift, four-tusked, white elephants descended from the line of Airāvata. After these deeds, Krishna journeyed to the abode of Indra, the king of the gods. There, he presented the radiant earrings to Aditi, and was honored by Indra and his beloved wife, Indrani. Urged by his own wife, Satyabhama, Krishna then uprooted the celestial Parijata tree, placed it upon Garuḍa, and, after defeating the gods and Indra himself, brought the tree to his own city. He planted it for Satyabhama, enhancing the beauty of her gardens, and the bees, greedy for its heavenly fragrance, followed it all the way from the heavens. Satyabhama, her crown touching Acyuta’s feet, bowed before him and asked for her heart’s desire to be fulfilled. By granting her wish, Krishna’s greatness was proclaimed, and the folly of pride among the gods was laid bare. Then, in a single moment, the Lord, who is ever the same yet can assume countless forms, married each of the rescued women in their respective mansions. Dwelling with them, surpassing all comparison, Krishna delighted with his consorts, living as an ideal householder with his wives. Those maidens, having attained as their husband the Lord of Lakshmi—whose path even Brahma and the gods cannot fathom—served Krishna with joy and ever-increasing love. Their service was expressed through smiles, loving glances, intimate union, playful words, and bashfulness. Hundreds of maidservants also attended to the Lord, offering every comfort and honor: meeting him at the door, offering seats, worship, washing his feet, betel, rest, fanning, fragrant garlands, arranging his hair, preparing his bed, bathing, and presenting gifts. Thus concludes the fifty-ninth chapter of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas, which tells of the taking of the Parijata tree and the slaying of Naraka. Once, Bhāīṣmī (Rukmini) attended to her husband, Krishna, the teacher of the world, as he sat contentedly upon his own bed, while she and her companions gently fanned him. This Lord, who by his divine play creates, sustains, and destroys the universe, had taken birth among the Yadus to protect the cows and his own kin. The inner chamber where they sat was adorned with a hanging pearl necklace, a splendid canopy, and jeweled lamps. Garlands of jasmine and other flowers filled the air with fragrance, while the hum of bees and the pure moonlight streaming through the lattice windows enhanced the beauty of the scene. Breezes carried the scent of the Parijata grove and gardens, mingled with the incense of aloe wood wafting through the latticed openings. Upon a most excellent couch, white as milk foam, Rukmini attended to her husband, the Lord of the worlds, as he reclined in comfort. Taking up a yak-tail fan with a jeweled handle from her companion, the goddess fanned Krishna, performing her loving worship. Her anklets of jewels rang softly as she moved; her hands, adorned with rings and bangles, held the fan. Her necklace was tinged with saffron from her hidden breasts beneath her garment, and her hips were encircled by a priceless girdle—she shone resplendent beside Acyuta. Seeing her, the very embodiment of beauty and fortune, who had no other refuge and had assumed a form matching his own through her play, Hari was pleased. Smiling, his curling locks, earrings, and shining necklace radiant, he spoke nectar-like words to her: “O princess, you were desired by kings—guardians of the world—endowed with great power, wealth, beauty, generosity, and strength. Rejecting all those suitors, scorning even the proudest among them like Shishupala, you were given by your brother and father. Why did you not choose someone equal to yourself? O beautiful-browed one, out of fear of the kings, you sought refuge in the ocean, having made enemies of the powerful and abandoned royal seats.” Thus spoke Krishna, gently teasing his beloved Rukmini in the intimacy of their chamber, surrounded by beauty, fragrance, and devotion.