With reverence, Bāṇa approached the great Mahādeva, the revered guru and lord of all worlds, the fulfiller of wishes unmet, whose feet are worshipped even by the immortals. Bowing before him, Bāṇa spoke: “O Lord, you have blessed me with a thousand arms, but now they are a burden. Throughout the three worlds, I find no one worthy to challenge me in battle, except you.” He confessed his longing for combat. In his restlessness, he would scratch himself with his restrained arms and, out of frustration, fought the elephants guarding the directions, crushing mountains at the outset—yet even these mighty creatures fled from him in fear. Hearing such words, Lord Śiva grew angry and declared, “O fool, when your flag is brought down, then you will find an opponent equal to you in battle, one who will humble your pride.” Delighted by these words, though misguided, Bāṇa returned home, foolishly awaiting Giriśa’s command, unaware that he was inviting his own downfall. Bāṇa had a daughter named Ūṣā. One night, she dreamt of union with a handsome youth, the son of Pradyumna, whom she had never met or even heard of before. Awakening among her companions, agitated and deeply embarrassed, she cried out, “Where are you, my beloved?” Ūṣā’s close friend was Citralekhā, the daughter of Bāṇa’s minister Kumbhāṇḍa. Out of curiosity, Citralekhā questioned her, saying, “O beautiful-browed one, whom do you seek? What kind of man has captured your thoughts? I have never seen anyone take your hand.” Ūṣā replied, “In my dream I saw a man—dark, lotus-eyed, clad in yellow, with great arms—who captivates the hearts of women. I seek that beloved, who made me taste nectar from his lips, but then, desiring me, vanished, casting me into an ocean of sorrow.” Citralekhā assured 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.” To help her friend, Citralekhā drew the forms of gods, gandharvas, siddhas, charaṇas, serpents, demons, vidyādharas, yakṣas, and humans as they appeared. Among the humans, she depicted the Vrishnis, Shura, Anakadundubhi, and when she drew Pradyumna, she grew embarrassed while sketching Rāma and Kṛṣṇa. But when she drew Aniruddha, Ūṣā turned her face downward in modesty and, smiling, pointed, “That one, that one.” Understanding, the yogini Citralekhā—granddaughter of Kṛṣṇa—used her yogic power to fly through the sky to Dvārakā, which was protected by Kṛṣṇa. There, by her mystic power, she took the sleeping Aniruddha, son of Pradyumna, from his fine bed and brought him to Śoṇitapura to show him to Ūṣā. When Ūṣā saw that handsome hero, her face lit with joy, and she enjoyed his company in her private chambers, which were difficult for others to enter. Aniruddha was honored with fine garments, garlands, fragrances, incense, lamps, comfortable seats, drinks, food, delicacies, and loving words of service. Hidden in the maiden’s palace, always attended by Ūṣā’s growing affection, Aniruddha, whose senses were captivated by her, lost all track of the passing days. As the Yadu hero enjoyed her company, Ūṣā’s vows were broken, and the guards, by subtle signs, began to suspect and observe her with delight. The guards went to Bāṇa and reported, “We have noticed suspicious behavior in your daughter, which brings disgrace to the family. Though protected by us, O lord, in her house, we do not know how the maiden, so difficult to approach, has been defiled by a man.” Distressed by these words, Bāṇa rushed to his daughter’s quarters and saw the Yadu prince. There sat the son of desire, the most beautiful in the world—dark-complexioned, clad in yellow, lotus-eyed, broad-armed, radiant with earrings and curling locks, his face adorned with smiling glances. He was playing dice with his eager beloved, who wore a garland stained with the kumkuma of her own breasts, while he held a jasmine garland in his arms. Seeing them together, Bāṇa was astonished. When Aniruddha saw himself surrounded by hostile guards and troops, he raised his club and stood ready, like Death himself, intent on battle. Those who rushed at him from all sides were struck down by Aniruddha, who slew them like a boar dispatching dogs; the wounded fled from the palace, their heads, thighs, and arms broken. Then Bāṇa’s powerful son used serpent bonds to bind Aniruddha, who was slaying his own troops in anger. Seeing her beloved bound, Ūṣā was overcome with grief and wept with tear-filled eyes. Thus ends 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. Śrī Śuka continued: O descendant of Bharata, four months passed, filled with constant grief, as Aniruddha and his relatives remained missing. Then, hearing from Nārada about Aniruddha’s captivity and all that had transpired, the Vṛṣṇis, who worship Kṛṣṇa as their deity, set out for Śoṇitapura. Pradyumna, Yuyudhāna, Gada, Sāmba, Sāraṇa, Nanda, Upananda, Bhadra, and others, all devoted to Rāma and Kṛṣṇa, joined the expedition. With twelve divisions of troops, the foremost of the Sātvatas surrounded Bāṇa’s city on all sides. Seeing his gardens, ramparts, towers, and gateways being destroyed, Bāṇa, seized by fury, emerged with an equal army to fight. For Bāṇa’s sake, the blessed Rudra himself, together with his son and the Pramathas, mounted the bull Nandi and joined battle with Rāma and Kṛṣṇa. A tumultuous, wondrous, and hair-raising battle ensued between Kṛṣṇa and Śaṅkara, and also between Pradyumna and Guha. Kumbhāṇḍa and Kūpakarṇa fought with Balarāma; Sāmba contended with Bāṇa’s son; Sātyaki faced Bāṇa himself. Brahmā and other lords of the gods, sages, perfected beings, celestial singers, nymphs, and yakṣas arrived in their aerial vehicles to witness this extraordinary battle. Kṛṣṇa drove away the followers of Śaṅkara—the spirits, pramathas, guhyakas, ḍākinīs, rākṣasas, and vināyakas—scattering them before him.