With the conclusion of the tale of Aniruddha’s bringing, the scene shifts, and the sage Śuka resumes his narration to King Parīkṣit. He describes how Lord Balarāma, filled with longing to see his beloved friends, ascended his chariot and journeyed toward Nanda’s Gokula. As he arrived, the cowherds and their wives—who had yearned for him during his long absence—embraced him for a great while. Overflowing with joy, Balarāma bowed to his parents, receiving their affectionate blessings as they lifted him onto their laps, showered him with embraces, and wept tears of happiness. With trembling voices, they prayed, “May you and your brother, O Lord of the universe, always protect us, O Dāśārha.” Balarāma then respectfully greeted the elder cowherds, each according to their age, friendship, and kinship, honoring the customs of Vraja. Settling among the cowherd men, he was welcomed with laughter, warm handshakes, and familiar gestures. As they gathered around him, seated at ease, they eagerly inquired after his welfare. Balarāma, his voice thick with affection, asked in turn about their well-being and that of their families, for all their burdens had long been entrusted to Kṛṣṇa, whose eyes are like lotus petals. The cowherd men asked, “O Rāma, are your relatives well? Do you, with your wives and children, still remember us? By good fortune, wicked Kaṃsa has been slain; by good fortune, your friends are free; by good fortune, you have triumphed over your enemies and now dwell in safety.” 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 return, even once, to see his mother? Does that mighty-armed one remember our service to him?” They pressed on, their voices tinged with pain and longing: “For whose sake, O Dāśārha, did you and your brother abandon your mother, father, brothers, husbands, sons, and even sisters—your dearest kin? He left us so suddenly, severing our bonds of affection. How could such a one be trusted by women to keep his word? How could the wise women of the city accept the promises of one so inconstant and ungrateful? Yet, enchanted by his charming stories, smiles, glances, and sighs, they do accept him, lovesick as they are.” Then, with a sigh, they said, “What use is there for us, O cowherd women, in speaking of him? Let us talk of other things. Time passes for us in his absence, if it passes for him as it does for us.” Yet as they recalled Kṛṣṇa’s playful words, his loving glances, his graceful movements, and his sweet embraces, they could not contain their tears. Lord Saṅkarṣaṇa, skilled in the arts of consolation, soothed their aching hearts with heartfelt messages from Kṛṣṇa. Thus, Balarāma spent two months in Vraja—the months of Madhu and Mādhava—bringing joy to the gopīs during the moonlit nights. In those nights, bathed in the cool radiance of the full moon, with the fragrance of night-blooming lotuses carried on gentle breezes, Balarāma delighted in the forest groves by the Yamunā, surrounded by groups of women who served him with devotion. At that time, Varuṇa sent the goddess Vāruṇī, who appeared from the hollow of a tree, her divine fragrance filling the entire forest. Drawn by the sweet aroma of the honeyed wine carried by the wind, Balarāma drank with the women, enjoying the taste with his tongue. As Gandharvas sang melodious songs, Balarāma, encircled by beautiful women, reveled in their company like Indra among his elephant herd. Celestial drums sounded in the sky, flowers rained down in celebration, and Gandharvas and sages praised Balarāma’s exploits. The women sang of his deeds as Halāyudha wandered the forests, intoxicated, his eyes unsteady with delight. Balarāma was radiant, adorned with a garland and a single earring, intoxicated, wearing the Vaijayantī wreath, his lotus-like face glowing with a gentle smile and beaded with drops of sweat like frost. Wishing to play in the waters, he called the Yamunā, but, overcome with intoxication, spoke carelessly and summoned her to his side. When the river did not come, he grew angry and, with the tip of his plough, dragged her toward him, rebuking her: “O sinful one, though I called, you paid me no heed. I will lead you with the tip of my plough, you who wander as you please.” Frightened by his anger, Yamunā approached, trembling, and fell at his feet. She pleaded, “O Rāma, mighty-armed one, I did not know your prowess, O lord of the world, by whose single portion the earth is sustained. Please forgive me, for I did not know your supreme nature. O soul of the universe, friend of devotees, I take refuge in you.” Appeased by her supplication, Balarāma released the Yamunā and, together with the women, bathed in her waters like a king elephant with his mates. After enjoying himself, he emerged from the river and, beneath the open sky, bestowed splendid ornaments and a beautiful garland upon the women. Clad in blue garments and a golden garland, anointed and adorned, he rested, resplendent like Indra among elephants. To this day, the path carved by Balarāma’s plough as he drew the Yamunā remains visible, a testament to his immeasurable strength. Thus, the night passed as Balarāma delighted in Vraja, his mind enraptured by the sweetness of the women of Vraja. As the tale turns, Śuka begins the next chapter. When Balarāma had gone to Nandavraja, the king of the Karūṣas, unaware of Kṛṣṇa’s true identity as Vāsudeva, sent a messenger to Dvārakā, declaring, “I am Vāsudeva.” The boys addressed Kṛṣṇa, “You are Vāsudeva, the Lord descended, ruler of the world,” and Kṛṣṇa, the infallible Self, accepted this truth within. But the deluded king, acting childishly and lacking understanding, sent his messenger to Kṛṣṇa, whose actions are inscrutable, as though one boy might send a message to another in Dvārakā. The messenger entered the assembly and addressed Kṛṣṇa, the lotus-eyed Lord, delivering the king’s message: “I alone am Vasudeva incarnate; there is no other. Out of compassion for beings I have descended. You should abandon your false claim.