Having arrived with the hope of restoring peace, Balarama gently soothed the furious Yadus and Krishna. He lamented that these quarrelsome, dull-minded, and wicked individuals had repeatedly disregarded him, speaking disrespectfully, their pride unchecked. Balarama wondered aloud: Was not Ugrasena, the mighty lord and ruler of the Bhojas, Vṛṣṇis, and Andhakas, whom even Indra and the guardians of the worlds obey, worthy of respect? He reminded all that Ugrasena had entered Sudharmā, brought the Pārijāta tree from the realm of the immortals, and enjoyed its blessings—surely he was not unworthy of the royal seat. At Ugrasena’s feet, Lakshmi herself served directly; the sovereign of all, was he not deserving of royal honors and paraphernalia? The dust of his lotus feet was borne by the crowns of all guardians of the worlds, worshipped as the holiest of holy places. Brahmā, Śiva, and Balarama himself were but portions of his portion, and Lakshmi had served him for a long time—where was the royal seat for such a one? Yet, the Vṛṣṇis enjoyed land granted by the Kurus, while Balarama compared himself to shoes and the Kurus to the crown upon the head. Who could endure or instruct those intoxicated by wealth, whose words were incoherent and harsh, like the proud and drunken? In his anger, Balarama declared, “Today I will make the earth free of the Kauravas!” Seizing his plough, he rose up as if to burn the three worlds. With the tip of his plough, Balarama tore open the city of Hastinapura, dragging it toward the Ganga in his fury, intent on striking. The city, pulled into the river, spun like a boat caught in a whirlpool. The Kauravas, seeing their city dragged, were seized with panic. Desiring to live, the Kauravas, with their families, approached Balarama for refuge, placing Lakshmana and Samba at the front, and bowed to him with joined palms. “O Rama, foundation of all, we do not know your power. Please forgive our offense, for we are foolish and misguided,” they pleaded. “You alone are the cause, independent, of creation, maintenance, and dissolution. O Lord, the wise say the worlds are your playthings, and you play with them. You alone, O endless one, bear the earth with your thousand heads, supporting it on your crown; and at the end, when the universe is withdrawn, you alone remain, unique and unsurpassed. Your anger is for universal instruction, not out of hatred or envy; you, upholding sattva, are ever intent on protection. Salutations to you, soul of all beings, bearer of all powers, imperishable one; creator of the universe, we bow to you and take refuge in you.” Śuka said: Thus, those who had taken refuge, distressed and trembling, pleased Balarama. Fully satisfied, he granted them fearlessness, saying, “Do not be afraid.” Duryodhana then gave tribute: sixty-year-old elephants, twelve thousand horses, six thousand golden chariots shining like the sun, and a thousand maidservants without necklaces, fond of daughters. Having accepted all this, the Lord, foremost among the Sātvatas, departed with his son and daughter-in-law, honored by his friends. Halāyudha returned to his own city, his heart affectionate toward his relatives, and in the assembly of the Yadus, recounted all his deeds among the Kurus. Even today, that city, bearing the mark of Rama’s might, stands elevated to the south of the Ganga, visible to all. Thus concludes the sixty-eighth chapter, “The Victory of Sankarshana in the Form of Dragging Hastinapura,” of the Uttara section of the Tenth Book of the glorious Bhagavata Purana. Now, Śuka continued: The household conduct of the Lord, as witnessed by the sage Narada. Hearing that Naraka had been slain and that Krishna alone had married many women, Narada wished to see this marvel. How astonishing it was that, with a single body, Krishna simultaneously married eight thousand and two hundred women, each in their own home. Eager to see Dvārakā, the divine sage Narada arrived in that city, where gardens and parks were in full bloom, resounding with the voices of flocks of birds and brahmins. The lakes were adorned with fully blossomed blue lotuses, water lilies, day-blooming lotuses, and kumudas, filled with tall reeds and echoing with the calls of swans and cranes. Dvārakā was graced with nine hundred thousand palaces made of crystal and silver, resembling great emeralds, furnished with golden and jeweled decorations. Its avenues, streets, squares, and marketplaces were distinct; beautiful halls and assembly chambers stood alongside celestial temples. The roads, courtyards, alleys, and thresholds were sprinkled with water, and flags and banners shielded them from the sun. Within, the splendid inner chambers were honored by all householders. There, Hari’s own skill was fully displayed, as if crafted by Tvaṣṭṛ himself. Narada entered one among the sixteen thousand beautifully adorned mansions, a grand residence belonging to one of Śauri’s wives. The palace was supported by coral pillars, with the finest lapis lazuli floors, walls made of sapphire, and the ground shining with unmatched brilliance. Canopies crafted by Tvaṣṭṛ hung with strings of pearls, and seats and couches were adorned with the finest gems and ivory. The palace was decorated with maidservants wearing splendid garments but no necklaces, and men dressed in fine robes, with sashes, turbans, and jeweled earrings. The darkness was dispelled by the radiance of jeweled lamps; in the varied balconies, peacocks danced, incense and sacred offerings were arranged, and those of deep intellect sang loudly upon seeing the exit. There, among thousands of maidservants equal in qualities, beauty, youth, and attire, Narada saw the queen fanning the lord of the Sātvatas with a golden-handled camara. Beholding him, the Blessed Lord, greatest among upholders of dharma, immediately rose from his couch, bowed his crowned head to the sage’s feet, and, with joined palms, welcomed him to his own seat. Krishna washed the sage’s feet and placed that water upon his own head, though he was the supreme teacher of the world and lord of the virtuous. The purity of his feet, known as ‘Brahmaṇyadeva,’ is the ultimate holy place. Having honored the foremost of divine sages, the ancient ṛṣi Nārāyaṇa, friend of Nara, Krishna spoke to him with sweet, measured words, as prescribed by tradition: “O Lord, what may we do for you, O Blessed One?