Eager to behold the city of Dvārakā, the divine sage Nārada journeyed there. As he approached, he found himself amidst gardens and parks in full bloom, their air alive with the melodious calls of flocks of birds and the chanting of brahmins. The lakes of Dvārakā were radiant with fully blossomed blue lotuses, water lilies, day-blooming lotuses, and kumudas, their surfaces graced by tall reeds and echoing with the calls of swans and cranes. The city itself was wondrous to behold: nine hundred thousand palaces, fashioned from crystal and silver and shining like great emeralds, stood resplendent. These magnificent homes were adorned with golden and jeweled decorations. The avenues, streets, squares, and marketplaces were laid out distinctly; beautiful halls and assembly chambers rose beside celestial temples. The roads, courtyards, alleys, and thresholds were sprinkled with water, keeping the city cool and pure, while flags and banners fluttered, shielding the residents from the sun. Within these splendid mansions, all the householders honored the inner chambers, where the skill of Hari himself was fully manifest—so much so that it seemed as if Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine architect, had crafted them. Into one among the sixteen thousand beautifully adorned palaces, Nārada entered—a grand residence belonging to one of Śauri’s wives. This palace was a marvel: coral pillars supported the structure, the floors were of the finest lapis lazuli, and the walls were made of sapphire, casting a brilliant radiance throughout. Canopies, crafted by Tvaṣṭṛ, hung above, strung with pearls, while seats and couches were adorned with precious gems and ivory. Maidservants in splendid garments, though without necklaces, moved gracefully, and men in fine robes, with sashes, turbans, and jeweled earrings, attended to their duties. The darkness of the palace was dispelled by the glow of jeweled lamps. In the balconies, peacocks danced, incense and sacred offerings were arranged, and those of deep intellect sang loudly as they observed the sage’s entrance. There, among thousands of maidservants, all equal in qualities, beauty, youth, and attire, Nārada saw the queen herself, fanning the Lord of the Sātvatas with a camara whose handle was of gold. Beholding the sage, the Blessed Lord—greatest among all upholders of dharma—immediately rose from his couch. He bowed his crowned head at Nārada’s feet and, with joined palms, welcomed him to his own seat. Krishna, though the supreme teacher of the world and lord of the virtuous, reverently washed the sage’s feet and placed that water upon his own head, acknowledging the purity of Nārada’s feet, known as ‘Brahmaṇyadeva,’ the ultimate holy place. Having thus honored the foremost of divine sages, Krishna, the ancient ṛṣi Nārāyaṇa and friend of Nara, addressed him with sweet, measured words as tradition prescribed: “O Lord, what may we do for you, O Blessed One?” Nārada replied, “O master of all worlds, it is not surprising that you show friendship to all, and self-restraint 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 pair of feet—which grant liberation, contemplated in the hearts of Brahmā and the wise, and which support those fallen into the well of worldly existence—I wander, meditating. Grant me your grace, so that remembrance may arise.” On another day, desiring to understand the yoga-māyā of the lord of yogis, Nārada entered the house of another wife of Krishna. There, Krishna was engaged in playing dice with his beloved and Uddhava. Yet, as soon as Nārada entered, Krishna received him with supreme devotion—rising, offering him a seat, and performing all the proper acts of welcome. Krishna, as if unaware, asked, “When did you arrive, O Lord? What could those like us, who are incomplete, do for those who are complete?” Still, with humility, Krishna requested, “O brāhmaṇa, tell us about this beautiful birth.” Astonished by this display, Nārada rose and silently went to another house. There, too, he found Govinda, this time delighting his young sons. In another house, Krishna was preparing for his bath. Elsewhere, Nārada saw Krishna offering oblations into sacrificial fires, performing sacrifices with five kinds of rituals, feeding the brāhmaṇas in some places, and in others, eating what remained. In some homes, Krishna was seated at twilight, reciting the Veda with controlled speech; elsewhere, he was walking the paths of archers, sword and shield in hand. In other places, he traveled with horses, elephants, and chariots, accompanied by Balarāma; elsewhere, he reclined on a couch, praised by bards. In some places, Krishna was seen consulting with ministers like Uddhava; elsewhere, he was engaged in water sports, surrounded by the foremost women of the palace. Sometimes he was giving well-adorned cows to the foremost brāhmaṇas; elsewhere, he listened to auspicious histories and Purāṇas. At times, he laughed at home with his beloved, sharing humorous stories; elsewhere, he was engaged in dharma, or in pursuits of wealth and desire. In one place, Krishna sat alone, meditating on the Supreme Person beyond nature; in another, he served his teachers with pleasures and offerings. In some places, Keśava was seen making treaties; in others, making war. Elsewhere, together with Rāma, he contemplated the welfare of the virtuous. At the proper time, Krishna arranged the marriages of his sons and daughters with spouses equal to them, providing them with appropriate wealth. He observed great festivals for his children, such as their departure and initiation ceremonies—occasions so splendid that 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, fulfilling dharma through the creation of wells, gardens, monasteries, and the like. In some places, he was seen hunting, riding a Sindhu horse and, accompanied by the foremost of the Yadus, performing the ritual killing of sacrificial animals. With his unmanifest form, Krishna moved among the residences of the inner apartments and elsewhere, the Lord of yoga experiencing various states. Having witnessed these wondrous manifestations—Krishna appearing in so many forms, engaged in so many acts, in so many places at once—Nārada, as if smiling, addressed Hṛṣīkeśa. He said, “We know your yoga-māyā, which is difficult to perceive even for those skilled in illusion. It shines forth from the Lord of yogis, through service at your feet. Permit me, O Lord, to depart for the worlds flooded with your fame. I will wander, singing your playful deeds that purify the universe.” The Blessed Lord replied, “I am the speaker and agent of the duties of householders, acting with their approval. Teaching this, I have taken up this world—do not grieve, my son.” Śuka then said: Thus, as Krishna practiced the pure duties that sanctify householders, Nārada saw the Lord present in every home, the one abiding everywhere. Repeatedly witnessing the great manifestation of Krishna’s yoga-māyā, whose power is limitless, the sage became ever more astonished and filled with curiosity.