As the tumult of battle raged, Balarama wielded his mighty club, driving terror into the hearts of the assembled kings. Their arms, thighs, and heads battered and bloodied, they fled the field in fear, unable to withstand his strength. In the midst of this, Rukmi, Krishna’s brother-in-law, was slain. Yet Krishna, mindful of the delicate bond between his beloved Rukmini and Balarama, neither praised nor condemned the act, fearing the rupture of affection between them. With the conflict settled, Aniruddha and his bride were placed upon a splendid chariot. Rama and the Dasharhas, their purpose fulfilled and sheltered by Madhusudana, departed from Bhojakat, journeying to Kushasthali. Later, King Parikshit, eager to know more, inquired about Aniruddha’s marriage to Usha, the daughter of Bāṇa, and the terrible battle that took place between Hari and Shankara. He addressed the great yogi, Śuka, requesting the tale in detail. Śuka began: Bāṇa was the eldest among the hundred sons of Bali, that great soul who once gifted the earth to Hari in his Vāmana form. Bāṇa himself was always devoted to Shiva, honored for his generosity, intelligence, steadfastness, and truthfulness. He ruled as king in the beautiful city of Shonita, where, by the grace of Śambhu, his attendants were like the immortals. With his thousand arms, Bāṇa pleased Rudra by playing music during the Tāṇḍava dance. The Lord, master of all beings and refuge of devotees, offered Bāṇa a boon of his choice. Bāṇa requested Shiva as the protector of his city. Once, intoxicated by his own strength, Bāṇa approached Giriśa, touching his lotus feet with a radiant crown, and bowed in reverence: “O Mahādeva, guru and lord of the worlds, whose feet are worshipped by immortals, you have granted me a thousand arms, but they have become a burden. In all the three worlds, I find no one equal to fight except you. Longing for battle, I have scratched myself with my own arms and fought the elephants of the directions, crushing mountains, yet even they fled in fear.” Hearing this, Shiva, enraged, replied: “When your flag is broken, O fool, then you will find an opponent equal to you in battle who will humble your pride.” Delighted by this, Bāṇa foolishly returned home, awaiting Shiva’s command and, unknowingly, the destruction of his own strength. Bāṇa had a daughter named Usha. In a dream, she experienced union with the son of Pradyumna—a handsome youth whom she had never seen or heard of before. Awakening, not finding him there, she rose among her friends, agitated and deeply embarrassed, calling out, “Where are you, beloved?” Bāṇa’s minister was Kumbhāṇḍa, whose daughter Citralekhā was a close friend of Usha. Curious, Citralekhā questioned her: “Whom are you seeking, O beautiful-browed one? What kind of man fills your thoughts? Princess, I have not yet seen anyone take your hand.” Usha replied, “I saw a man in my dream—dark, lotus-eyed, clad in yellow, with great arms—who captivates the hearts of women. I seek that beloved, who made me drink nectar from his lips, but then, desiring me, vanished somewhere, casting me into an ocean of sorrow.” Citralekhā comforted her: “If your misfortune is destined in the three worlds, I will remove it. Tell me who this enchanting one is, and I will bring him to you.” She then drew the forms of gods, gandharvas, siddhas, charanas, serpents, demons, vidyadharas, yakshas, and humans as they appeared. Among the humans, she depicted the Vrishnis, Shura, Anakadundubhi, and, seeing Pradyumna, became embarrassed while drawing Rama and Krishna. When she drew Aniruddha, Usha turned her face downward in modesty, and, smiling, said, “That one, that one.” Understanding this, Citralekhā, a yogini and granddaughter of Krishna, departed through the sky to Dvaraka, protected by Krishna. There, using her yogic power, she took Aniruddha, son of Pradyumna, who was sleeping on a fine bed, and brought him to Shonitapura to show her friend. Seeing that handsome hero, Usha, with a joyful face, enjoyed Aniruddha’s company in her own home, which was difficult for others to enter. He was honored with excellent garments, garlands, fragrances, incense, lamps, seats, drinks, food, delicacies, and words of service. Hidden in the maiden’s palace, always attended by her growing affection, Aniruddha, captivated by Usha, did not notice the passing days. As Usha was thus enjoyed by the Yadu hero, her vows broken, the palace guards observed her, delighted, by subtle signs. They reported to the king: “We have noticed suspicious behavior in your daughter, a disgrace to the family. Though protected by us, O lord, in her house, we do not know how the maiden, difficult to approach, has been defiled by a man.” Distressed by this news, Bāṇa quickly entered his daughter’s quarters and saw the Yadu prince. Aniruddha was the most beautiful in the world—dark-complexioned, clad in yellow garments, lotus-eyed, broad-armed, radiant with earrings and curling locks, his face adorned by smiling glances. He was playing dice with his beloved, who was eager for him; her body was adorned with a garland stained by kumkuma from her breasts, and he held a garland of jasmine in his arms. Seeing him seated at Usha’s side, Bāṇa was astonished. Surrounded by hostile guards and troops, Aniruddha raised his club and stood ready, like Death wielding his staff, intent on killing. Those who rushed from all sides to seize him were struck down by Aniruddha, like a leader of boars slaying dogs; those being killed fled from the palace, their heads, thighs, and arms broken. Then Bāṇa’s powerful son, using serpent bonds, bound Aniruddha, who was slaying his own troops in anger. Usha, overwhelmed by grief and sorrow, seeing him bound, wept with tear-filled eyes. Thus concludes the sixty-second chapter, “The Binding of Aniruddha,” in the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, in the section for supreme renunciates. Śuka continued: O descendant of Bharata, while Aniruddha and his relatives were not to be seen, four months passed for them, filled with constant grief.