Scorched by an unbearable, fierce, and searing fever, the demon cried out to Krishna, “I am tormented by this agony. As long as people remain bound by hope, they do not worship the root of your feet, and so their suffering endures.” Hearing this plea, the Blessed Lord Krishna spoke with compassion: “O Triśiras, I am pleased with you. Let your fear of this fever be dispelled. Whoever remembers our conversation will never have cause to fear you.” Thus addressed, the fever demon of Śiva bowed respectfully to Acyuta and departed. Meanwhile, Bāṇa, undeterred, mounted his chariot and advanced to challenge Janārdana in battle. O King, Bāṇa, the demon with a thousand arms and a multitude of weapons, unleashed a furious volley of arrows upon the wielder of the discus. Again and again, Krishna deftly cut down the weapons that Bāṇa hurled from his mouth, using his razor-edged discus to sever the demon’s arms as if they were branches being lopped from a tree. As Bāṇa’s arms fell away, Lord Bhava—compassionate to his devotees—approached Krishna and spoke to him. Śrī Rudra addressed Krishna with reverence: “You are the supreme Brahman, the highest light, hidden within the Brahman that is spoken of in words. Those with purified souls perceive you alone, as the boundless sky. “Your navel is the ether, fire is your mouth, water your seed, the sky your head, the directions your ears, and your feet are the earth itself. The moon is your mind, the sun your eye, the self your soul, I am the ocean—your belly—and the serpent king is your arm. “Your body’s hairs are the plants, the clouds your waters, Brahmā your hair, intelligence your creative power, Prajāpati your heart, and Dharma your very essence. Truly, you are the cosmic person, the archetype of all worlds. “This descent of yours, O unimpeded Lord, is for the protection of dharma and the welfare of the world. All of us, inspired by you, comprehend the seven realms. “You alone are the primordial, unique Person—the fourth beyond all. Self-seeing, cause and causeless, you appear, yet remain unchanged, manifesting all qualities by your own power. “Just as the sun, concealed by its own shadow, projects both shadow and form, so you, hidden by your own qualities, illuminate both the qualities and those who possess them, O boundless light of the self. “Those whose minds are deluded by your maya become attached to children, spouses, homes, and so forth, and thus rise and sink, engrossed in the ocean of misfortune. “Having attained this human birth, if one with uncontrolled senses does not honor your feet, he is to be pitied, for he deceives himself. He who abandons you, his own beloved self, and pursues sensory pleasures in reverse, consumes poison, forsaking nectar. “I, Brahma, the gods, and the sages of pure mind, have all surrendered to you, O dearest Lord, with our whole being. “You are the cause of the world’s creation, sustenance, and dissolution—equal, tranquil, friend, self, and god; the sole, nondual source of the universe. We worship you, O Lord, for liberation from birth and death. “This one”—Rudra gestured to Bāṇa—“is dear to me, beloved and obedient. I have granted him fearlessness, O Lord. Let your favor be bestowed upon him, just as you showed mercy to the lord of the daityas.” The Blessed Lord replied: “O revered one, I shall do whatever pleases you. Whatever you decide is agreeable and approved by me. “This son of Virocana, an asura, is not to be slain even by me. A boon was granted to Prahlāda, so neither he nor your lineage shall be killed by me. “To humble his pride, I have broken his arms; his vast army, which burdened the earth, has been destroyed by me. “Four of his arms remain; he will be ageless and immortal, chief among your attendants, and, O asura, he shall have no fear from anywhere.” Thus, having received fearlessness, Bāṇa bowed his head to Krishna. He placed Pradyumna with his wife on the chariot and brought them forward. Then, surrounded by a division of his army, adorned in fine garments and ornaments, and with his wife beside him, Bāṇa departed, honored by Rudra. He entered his splendid royal city, decorated with flags, gateways, and guarded crossroads, accompanied by the sounds of conch shells, trumpets, and drums, and was welcomed by his citizens, friends, and the twice-born. Whoever remembers Krishna’s victory and his battle with Shankara, rising in the morning, will never suffer defeat. Thus ends the sixty-third chapter, entitled “The Bringing of Aniruddha,” in the tenth canto, second half, of the holy Bhagavata Mahapurana, the scripture of the supreme swan. * Then Śrī Śuka continued: “O best of the Kurus, Lord Balarāma, eager to see his dear friends, mounted his chariot and journeyed to Nanda’s Gokula. When he arrived, the cowherds and cowherd women, who had long yearned for him, embraced him for a long time. Balarāma bowed to his parents, and they joyfully blessed him. ‘May you and your brother, O Lord of the universe, always protect us, O Dāśārha,’ they said, lifting him onto their laps, embracing him, and bathing him with tears of joy. Balarāma respectfully greeted the elder cowherds, each according to their age, friendship, and relationship to himself, as they sat in their customary order. Then, approaching the assembled cowherd men with laughter, handshakes, and other gestures, those gathered around him asked after his well-being as he sat comfortably at ease. In turn, Balarāma inquired after their welfare and that of their families, his voice choked with affection, for in Krishna, whose eyes are like lotus petals, all their burdens had been placed. The cowherds asked, ‘O Rāma, are all your relatives well? Do you, with your wives and children, still remember us? ‘By good fortune, the wicked Kaṃsa has been slain; by good fortune, your friends have been freed; by good fortune, having defeated your enemies, you have taken shelter in a stronghold.’ The cowherd women, delighted to see Balarāma, laughed and asked, ‘Is Kṛṣṇa, beloved of the city women, living happily? ‘Does he remember his relatives, his father and mother? Will he ever come, even once, to see his mother? Or does that mighty-armed one remember our service to him? ‘For whose sake, O Dāśārha, did you, O Lord, abandon your mother, father, brothers, husbands, sons, and even sisters—your dearest kin? ‘He left us suddenly, severing our bonds of affection. How, then, could such a one be trusted by women to keep his word? ‘How could the women of the city, wise as they are, accept the words of one so inconstant and ungrateful? Yet, enchanted by his charming stories, smiles, glances, and sighs, they do accept him, lovesick as they are.