Śrī Rudra, filled with devotion, addressed the Lord: “You are the Supreme Brahman, the highest light, hidden even within the Brahman that is spoken of in the Vedas. Only those whose hearts are pure can perceive you, just as the sky is seen—vast and alone. “All elements and beings are but parts of your form: 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 very self is your soul. I am the ocean, your belly, and the serpent king is your arm. “The plants are your hairs, the clouds your waters, Brahmā is your hair, intelligence your creative power, Prajāpati your heart, and Dharma your essence. Indeed, you are the cosmic person, the archetype of all the worlds. “This descent of yours, O Lord who is never hindered, is for the protection of dharma and the welfare of the world. Inspired by you, we comprehend the seven realms of existence. “You alone are the primordial, unique Person, the fourth beyond the three states, self-seeing, both cause and causeless. You manifest, yet remain unchanged, revealing all qualities by your own power. “Just as the sun, hidden by its own shadow, projects both shadow and forms, so you, concealed by your qualities, illuminate qualities and those who possess them, O boundless light of the self. “But those whose minds are deluded by your maya become attached to children, spouses, homes, and so forth, and are tossed about, rising and sinking in the ocean of misfortune. “If, having gained this rare human birth, 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 the objects of the senses in reverse, is like one who gives up nectar to drink poison. “I, Brahmā, the gods, and the pure-minded sages have all surrendered to you, O dearest Lord, with all our hearts. “You are the cause of creation, maintenance, and dissolution of the worlds—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 is dear to me, beloved and obedient. I have granted him fearlessness, O Lord; let your favor be upon him, just as you showed mercy to the lord of the Daityas.” The Blessed Lord replied: “O revered one, whatever you say, I shall do as you wish. Whatever you decide is agreeable and approved by me. “This son of Virocana, though an Asura, is not to be slain even by me, for a boon was granted to Prahlāda. Therefore, 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. “Four of his arms remain; he will be ageless and immortal, the chief among your attendants, and, O Asura, he shall have no fear from anywhere.” Thus, having received fearlessness, the Asura bowed low to Krishna, placed Pradyumna with his wife upon the chariot, and brought him forward. Surrounded by a division of his army, adorned in fine garments and ornaments, with his wife beside him, he departed, honored by Rudra. He entered his royal city, splendid with flags, gateways, and guarded crossroads, amid the sounds of conchs, trumpets, and drums, welcomed by 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 Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture of the supreme swan. 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. There, the cowherds and the cowherd women, who had longed 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 love. He then respectfully greeted the elder cowherds, who were seated according to custom, honoring each according to their age, friendship, and relationship to him. With laughter, handshakes, and other gestures, the cowherd men gathered around Balarāma and asked him, as he sat comfortably at ease. Balarāma, his voice choked with affection, inquired after their well-being and that of their families, for all their burdens had been placed in Krishna, whose eyes are like lotus petals. “O Rāma, are all your relatives well? Do you, with your wives and children, still remember us?” they asked. “By good fortune, the wicked Kaṃsa has been slain; by good fortune, your friends are freed; by good fortune, having defeated your enemies, you have found refuge in a stronghold.” The cowherd women, delighted to see 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? 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, Balarāma stayed for two months—Madhu and Mādhava—bringing delight to the gopīs during the nights. Bathed in the light of the full moon, with the fragrance of night-blooming lotuses carried by the breeze, he enjoyed himself in the groves by the Yamunā, surrounded by groups of women who served him. Then, sent by Varuṇa, the goddess Vāruṇī emerged from the hollow of a tree, and as she descended, her fragrance filled the entire forest.