Again and again, as the fierce battle raged, Lord Krishna wielded his razor-edged discus to cut down the weapons that Bāṇa launched from his many mouths. With each turn of the discus, the Lord severed Bāṇa’s arms one by one, as if he were lopping branches from a tree. Seeing Bāṇa’s plight as his arms were being cut away, Lord Bhava—Śiva himself, ever compassionate to his devotees—approached Krishna and addressed him, the wielder of the discus. Śrī Rudra spoke: “You are the supreme Brahman, the highest, hidden light within the Brahman that is described by words. Those whose hearts are pure perceive you alone, vast and all-encompassing like the sky. “In you, the ether is your navel, fire your mouth, water your seed, the sky your head, the directions your ears, and the earth your feet. The moon is your mind, the sun your eye, the self your soul. I am the ocean, your belly; the serpent king is your arm. “Your hairs are the plants, the clouds your waters, Brahmā is your hair, intelligence your creative power, Prajāpati your heart, and Dharma your very essence. Truly, you are the cosmic person, the model for all the worlds. “This descent of yours, O Lord who is never obstructed, is for the protection of dharma and the welfare of all beings. Inspired by you, we comprehend the seven realms. “You alone are the primordial, unique Person, the fourth beyond all; self-seeing, both cause and causeless, O Lord. You appear, yet remain unchanged, manifesting all qualities by your own power. “Just as the sun, hidden by its own shadow, projects both darkness and form, so too, O boundless light of the self, you, concealed by your own qualities, illuminate all qualities and those who possess them. “Those whose minds are deluded by your maya become attached to children, spouses, homes, and so on, and rise and sink, engrossed in the ocean of misfortune. “If, having obtained this human birth, someone 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 the objects of the senses in reverse, is like one who forsakes nectar for poison. “I, Brahmā, the gods, and all the sages of pure mind, have surrendered to you, the dearest Lord, with our whole being. “You, 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 Bāṇa is dear to me—beloved and obedient. I have granted him fearlessness, O Lord. Let your favor fall upon him, just as you once showed mercy to the lord of the daityas.” The Blessed Lord replied, “O revered one, whatever you say, I shall do what 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, and his vast army, which burdened the earth, has been destroyed by me. “Let 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, placed Pradyumna on the chariot with his wife, and brought him forward. Surrounded by a division of his army, adorned in fine garments and ornaments, with his wife beside him, Bāṇa departed, honored by Rudra. He entered his royal city, splendid with flags, gateways, and guarded crossroads, amid the joyous sounds of conch, trumpet, and drum, welcomed by citizens, friends, and the twice-born. Whoever remembers Krishna’s victory and his battle with Śankara, 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 Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture of the supreme swan. Now, Śrī Śuka spoke: “O best of the Kurus, Lord Balarāma, eager to see his dear friends, mounted his chariot and journeyed to Nanda’s Gokula. There, he was embraced for a long time by the cowherds and the cowherd women, who had yearned for him. Rāma bowed to his parents and was joyfully blessed by them. They said, ‘May you and your brother, O Lord of the universe, protect us always, O Dāśārha,’ lifting him onto their laps, embracing him, and bathing him with tears of joy. He then respectfully greeted the elder cowherds, each according to their age, friendship, and relationship to himself, as was the custom. Approaching the cowherd men, with laughter, handshakes, and other gestures, those gathered around him asked, as he sat comfortably at ease. In turn, he asked after their well-being 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. They asked, ‘O Rāma, are all your relatives well? Do you, with your wives and children, still remember us? By good fortune, the wicked Kaṁsa 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 by the sight of Rāma, laughed and asked, ‘Is Krishna, 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. What use is there for us, O cowherd women, in talking of him? Let us speak of other things. Time passes for us in his absence, if it passes for him as it does for us.’ Remembering Krishna’s playful words, his lovely glances, his movements, and his loving embraces, the women wept. Lord Saṅkarṣaṇa, skilled in many ways of persuasion, comforted them with heartfelt messages from Krishna. There, Rāma stayed for two months—Madhu and Mādhava—bringing delight to the gopīs during the nights.