To this day, the city that bears the mark of Rāma’s great might still stands, elevated and proud to the south of the Ganga, visible to all who pass by—a living testament to that ancient power. Thus concludes the sixty-eighth chapter, “The Victory of Sankarshana in the Form of Dragging Hastinapura,” from the Uttara section of the Tenth Book of the glorious Bhagavata Purana. Now, Śuka continued: Narada, the divine sage, heard of Krishna’s wondrous deeds—how Naraka had been slain, and how Krishna alone had wed so many women. Filled with wonder at these reports, Narada longed to see these marvels with his own eyes. How astonishing it was! With but a single body, Krishna had simultaneously married eight thousand and two hundred women, each in her own home. Eager to witness this mystery, Narada journeyed to Dvārakā. There, he found a city resplendent with blooming gardens and parks, alive with the calls of flocks of birds and the sacred chants of brahmins. The lakes of Dvārakā sparkled, adorned with blue lotuses, water lilies, day-blooming lotuses, and kumudas. Tall reeds swayed along the banks, and the air was filled with the calls of swans and cranes. The city itself was a marvel, graced with nine hundred thousand palaces of crystal and silver, shining like great emeralds, each furnished with golden and jeweled decorations. The avenues, streets, squares, and marketplaces were each distinct and well-laid, with beautiful halls and assembly chambers standing beside celestial temples. The roads, courtyards, alleys, and thresholds were freshly sprinkled with water, and bright flags and banners fluttered above, shading the city from the sun. Within these splendid inner chambers, honored by all the householders, the full measure of Hari’s own artistry was displayed, as though the divine architect Tvaṣṭṛ himself had crafted them. 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 pillars of coral, with the finest lapis lazuli floors, sapphire walls, and a ground that shone with unmatched brilliance. Canopies, fashioned by Tvaṣṭṛ, hung with strings of pearls, and seats and couches glittered with the finest gems and ivory. The palace was alive with maidservants in splendid garments, though without necklaces, and men dressed in fine robes, sashes, turbans, and jeweled earrings. The darkness was dispelled by the glow of jeweled lamps. On the balconies, peacocks danced, while incense and sacred offerings were lovingly arranged. Those of deep intellect sang loudly as they saw the sage approach. Amid thousands of maidservants—each equal in beauty, youth, and attire—the sage beheld the queen herself, fanning the Lord of the Sātvatas with a golden-handled camara. At that moment, the Blessed Lord, greatest among upholders of dharma, immediately rose from his couch. He bowed his crowned head at Narada’s feet and, with joined palms, welcomed the sage to his own seat. Krishna, the supreme teacher of the world and lord of the virtuous, washed Narada’s feet and reverently placed the water upon his own head. For the sanctity of Narada’s feet, known as ‘Brahmaṇyadeva,’ is the ultimate holy place. Having thus honored the foremost of divine sages, the ancient rishi Nārāyaṇa, friend of Nara, addressed him with sweet, measured words, as tradition prescribed: “O Lord, what may we do for you, O Blessed One?” Narada replied, “It is not surprising, O master of all worlds, that you show friendship to all, and self-restraint even toward the wicked. For the welfare of the world, you maintain and protect it through your free descents, O praised one, as we well know. “Having seen your feet—which grant liberation to all, contemplated in the hearts of Brahma and other wise ones, and serving as a refuge for those fallen into the well of worldly existence—I wander, meditating. Grant me your grace, so that remembrance may ever arise within me.” On another day, Narada entered the house of another of Krishna’s wives, eager to witness the yoga-māyā of the lord of yogis. There, he found Krishna engaged in a game of dice with his beloved and Uddhava. Krishna greeted Narada with utmost devotion—rising, offering him a seat, and performing all the proper honors. Krishna then asked, as if he knew nothing, “When did you arrive, O Lord? What could those like us, who are incomplete, do for one who is complete?” Still, he requested, “O brāhmaṇa, tell us about this beautiful birth.” But Narada, astonished by what he had seen, rose silently and moved on to another house. There, too, he found Govinda delighting his young sons. In yet another home, he saw Krishna preparing for his bath. Elsewhere, Krishna was offering oblations into sacrificial fires, performing all five kinds of rituals, feeding the brahmins in some places, and in others, taking whatever food remained. In some homes, Krishna was seated at twilight, reciting the Veda with controlled speech; in others, he was walking the paths of archers, sword and shield in hand. Sometimes, he was traveling with horses, elephants, and chariots, accompanied by Balarāma; elsewhere, he reclined on a couch, praised by bards. In some places, Krishna was consulting with ministers like Uddhava; in others, he was engaged in water sports, surrounded by the foremost women of the palace. Somewhere, he was giving well-adorned cows to the foremost brahmins; elsewhere, he listened to auspicious histories and Purāṇas. At times, he laughed at home with his beloved through playful stories; in other places, he was engaged in dharma, or in pursuits of wealth and desire. In one place, he sat alone, meditating on the Supreme Person beyond nature; elsewhere, he served his teachers with pleasures and offerings. In some places, Keśava was seen making treaties with some, and in others, making war; elsewhere, together with Rāma, he contemplated the welfare of the virtuous. At the proper times, he arranged the marriages of his sons and daughters with spouses equal to them, providing them with wealth as befitted their station. He observed great festivals for his children, such as their departure and initiation ceremonies. Witnessing all these wonders, the worlds were astonished at the Lord of the masters of yoga. In some places, Krishna was seen worshipping all the gods with powerful sacrifices; elsewhere, he fulfilled dharma by establishing wells, gardens, monasteries, and the like. Sometimes, he was seen hunting, riding a Sindhu horse, and there, killing sacrificial animals, surrounded by the foremost of the Yadus. With his unmanifest form, the Lord of yoga moved among the inner apartments and elsewhere, desiring to experience all states of being. Then Narada, smiling at the marvels he had witnessed—the manifestation of yogamāyā and Krishna’s human-like conduct—spoke to Hrishikesha: “We know your yoga-māyā, which is difficult to perceive even for those skilled in illusion; it shines forth from you, O Lord of yogis, through service at your divine feet.