In the midst of a profound exchange, the Lord was addressed with deep reverence. “You alone,” he was told, “are the primordial, unique Person—transcending all, the fourth beyond. You see yourself; you are both the cause and causeless, O Lord. You appear in this world, yet remain unchanged, manifesting all qualities by your own power.” The speaker likened the Lord’s mysterious nature to the sun, which, veiled by its own shadow, projects both shadow and form. In the same way, the Lord, hidden by his own qualities, illuminates those qualities and all who possess them, shining as the boundless light of the self. Those who are deluded by the Lord’s maya become attached to their children, spouses, homes, and so forth, rising and sinking in the ocean of misfortune, engrossed in worldly affairs. If one, having attained this rare human birth, fails to honor the Lord’s feet due to uncontrolled senses, he is to be pitied—for he deceives himself. Abandoning the Lord, one’s own beloved self, and chasing after sensory pleasures is like consuming poison and forsaking nectar. The speaker, along with Brahma, the gods, and the pure-minded sages, declared their complete surrender to the dearest Lord. “You are the cause of the world’s creation, maintenance, and dissolution—equal, tranquil, friend, self, and god. The sole, nondual source of the universe. We worship you, O Lord, seeking liberation from birth and death.” Then, with affection, the speaker spoke of one dear to him—beloved and obedient—and requested, “I have granted him fearlessness, O Lord. Let your favor be bestowed upon him, 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.” The Lord explained, “This son of Virocana, an asura, is not to be slain even by me. A boon was granted to Prahlada: 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. Four arms remain; he will be ageless and immortal, chief among your attendants, and, O asura, he shall have no fear from anywhere.” Having received fearlessness, the asura bowed his head to Krishna, placed Pradyumna on the chariot with his wife, and brought him forward. Surrounded by an army division, 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 conch, trumpet, and drum, welcomed by citizens, friends, and the twice-born. It was declared that whoever remembers Krishna’s victory and his battle with Shankara, rising in the morning, will never suffer defeat. Thus concluded the sixty-third chapter, “The Bringing of Aniruddha,” in the tenth canto, second half, of the holy Bhagavata Mahapurana, the scripture of the supreme swan. *** Later, Śuka began to narrate: “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 cowherd women, who had yearned for him. Rama bowed to his parents, who joyfully blessed him.” They lovingly lifted him onto their laps, embraced him, and bathed him with tears of joy, saying, “May you and your brother, O Lord of the universe, always protect us, O Dāśārha.” Balarāma respectfully greeted the elder cowherds, who were seated according to custom, each in accordance with their age, friendship, and relationship to him. Approaching the cowherd men, he shared laughter, handshakes, and other gestures. Those gathered around asked him, as he sat comfortably at ease, about his well-being. He, in turn, inquired about 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. “O Rama, are all your relatives well? Do you, with your wives and children, still remember us?” they asked. “By good fortune, the wicked Kamsa 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 at the sight of Rama, 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?” they lamented. “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 the playful words, lovely glances, movements, and loving embraces of Śauri, the women wept. Lord Saṅkarṣaṇa, skilled in many ways of persuasion, comforted them with heartfelt messages from Krishna. There, Rama 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. Sent by Varuna, the goddess Varuni emerged from the hollow of a tree, and as she descended, her fragrance filled the entire forest. Bala inhaled the scent of the honey-stream, carried by the wind, and approached, drinking together with the women, using his tongue. As Gandharvas sang, in a circle adorned by beautiful women, the lord of the elephant herd enjoyed himself, like Indra among elephants. Drums resounded in the sky, flowers rained down in joy, and Gandharvas and sages praised Rama for his deeds. His exploits were sung by the women, and Halayudha wandered through the forests, intoxicated, his eyes unsteady from delight.