In the splendid city of Dvārakā, the sage Nārada entered one of the grand palaces belonging to Lord Kṛṣṇa. There, amidst thousands of maidservants who matched each other in grace, beauty, youth, and attire, Nārada beheld the queen herself—she was gently fanning the Lord of the Sātvatas with a golden-handled camara, serving him with devotion among her companions. As soon as the Blessed Lord, upholder of dharma and greatest among all, saw the sage enter, he immediately rose from his couch. With deep reverence, he bowed his crowned head to Nārada’s feet and greeted him with folded hands, offering him an honored seat. Though he is the supreme teacher of the world and lord of the virtuous, Kṛṣṇa himself washed Nārada’s feet and placed that sacred water upon his own head, recognizing the sage’s feet as the ultimate holy place, revered by all as Brahmaṇyadeva. Having thus honored the foremost of divine sages, the ancient ṛṣi Nārāyaṇa, Kṛṣṇa, the friend of Nara, addressed him with sweet and measured words, as tradition prescribes: “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 descend and protect it in so many ways, as we well know. Having seen your feet, which grant liberation and are contemplated even by Brahmā and the wise, which support those fallen in worldly existence, I wander, meditating on you. Grant me your grace, that remembrance of you may arise in me.” Desiring to witness the wondrous yoga-māyā of the Lord of yogis, Nārada, on another day, entered the palace of another of Kṛṣṇa’s wives. There he found the Lord playing dice with his beloved and Uddhava, yet as soon as Nārada appeared, Kṛṣṇa welcomed him with the highest devotion—rising, offering a seat, and honoring him in every way. Then, as if he were ignorant, Kṛṣṇa asked, “When did you arrive, O Lord? What could those like us, who are incomplete, do for one who is complete?” He also requested, “O brāhmaṇa, tell us about this beautiful birth.” But Nārada, amazed at the Lord’s play, rose silently and moved on to another house. In every palace he entered, Nārada saw Kṛṣṇa engaged in different activities. In one, he was delighting his young sons; in another, preparing for his bath. Elsewhere, he was offering oblations into sacred fires, performing sacrifices of five kinds, feeding brāhmaṇas, or himself partaking of the remnants. At twilight, Nārada saw him seated, reciting the Veda with controlled speech; in another place, he was practicing martial arts, walking the paths of archers with sword and shield. Sometimes Kṛṣṇa was traveling with horses, elephants, and chariots, accompanied by Balarāma; elsewhere, he reclined on a couch, being praised by bards. In some houses, he was consulting with ministers like Uddhava; in others, he enjoyed water sports, surrounded by the foremost women of his palace. Somewhere, he was giving well-adorned cows to the best brāhmaṇas; elsewhere, he listened to auspicious histories and Purāṇas. At times, he was seen laughing at home with his beloved through playful stories; elsewhere, he attended to dharma, and in other places, to wealth and desire. In one palace, he sat alone, meditating on the Supreme Person beyond nature; in another, he served his teachers with pleasures and offerings. In some places, Keśava was making treaties; in others, making war. Sometimes, together with Balarāma, he contemplated the welfare of the virtuous. At the proper times, he arranged the marriages of his sons and daughters with worthy spouses and provided them with appropriate wealth. He celebrated great festivals for his children—departures, initiations, and more—causing astonishment throughout the worlds at the Lord of yoga. Elsewhere, he worshipped the gods with powerful sacrifices; in other places, he fulfilled dharma by digging wells, planting gardens, building monasteries, and similar deeds. Sometimes, he was seen hunting, riding a Sindhu horse, surrounded by the foremost Yadus, and performing the ritual killing of sacrificial animals. With his unmanifest form, the Lord of yoga moved among the inner apartments and elsewhere, desiring to experience various states. Having witnessed all these marvels, Nārada, smiling, spoke to Hṛṣīkeśa: “We know your yoga-māyā, which even the masters of illusion cannot perceive. It shines from you, the Lord of yogis, and is revealed through service at your feet. Permit me, O Lord, to depart for the worlds where your fame resounds. I will wander, singing of your playful deeds that purify the universe.” The Blessed Lord replied, “I am the speaker and agent of householders’ duties, acting with their approval. Teaching by example, I have taken up this worldly life—do not grieve, my son.” Śuka then explained: In this way, as Kṛṣṇa practiced the pure duties that sanctify householders, Nārada saw the Lord present in every home, the one abiding everywhere. Repeatedly witnessing the vast manifestation of Kṛṣṇa’s yoga-māyā, whose power is without limit, Nārada’s wonder and curiosity only increased. Thus, honored in every way by Kṛṣṇa, who was ever devoted to the duties of wealth, pleasure, and righteousness, Nārada departed, his heart filled only with thoughts of the Lord. Thus, following the path of human life, Nārāyaṇa, whose power is for the sake of all beings, delighted among his sixteen thousand chosen wives, ever surrounded by their bashful, affectionate glances and smiles. Whatever actions Hari performed here—actions that are the cause of creation and dissolution, and have no other purpose—whoever sings, hears, or approves them, O dear one, devotion arises for the Lord on the path of liberation. Thus concludes the sixty-ninth chapter, “The Vision of Kṛṣṇa’s Household Life,” in the tenth book, second half, of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, the scripture of the supreme swan. Then, as dawn approached and the roosters crowed, the wives, afflicted by longing, were embraced by their husbands. The birds, awakening, seemed to praise Kṛṣṇa, singing sleepless songs, stirred by the gentle breezes from the Mandara forest. For a moment, Vaidarbhi could not bear the beautiful separation from her beloved’s embrace, having nestled between his arms. At the sacred hour of Brahma, Mādhava rose, touched water, and with a clear mind, meditated upon his own self—the one beyond darkness. He is the self-luminous, unique, imperishable, eternally pure by his own nature, known as Brahman, whose manifestation and dissolution are caused by his own powers, and whose bliss shines forth through those energies. Then, having bathed properly in pure water and adorned himself in clean garments, the most virtuous Lord performed the sequence of daily rituals. He offered fire and recited the sacred Brahman with controlled speech.