Afflicted by the burdens of old age, sorrow, and the inexorable results of past actions, the human body is described as a house of disease and suffering—difficult to satisfy, hard to endure, corrupted, flawed, and perishable in a mere instant. This body, destined to become the food of worms, dissolve into filth, or end as ashes, cannot serve as a lasting foundation for any work. How, then, can actions performed with such impermanence ever yield enduring results? Even the food prepared in the morning perishes by evening; how could there be any permanence in a body sustained by such fleeting nourishment? Yet, by hearing the sacred narration of Hari for seven days, it is possible to attain the Lord in this very world. Therefore, this is declared as the supreme means for removing all faults. Those who do not listen to the divine narration are like bubbles in water or insects among creatures—born only to die, their lives passing without meaning. Splitting the knot in a dry bamboo is wondrous, but even more wondrous is the splitting of the knot in the heart by hearing the sacred narration. When this seven-day hearing is performed, the knot of the heart is broken, all doubts are cut away, and the effects of past actions are exhausted. When the mind is firmly established at the sacred ford of narration, which is most capable of washing away the filth of worldly existence, the wise declare that liberation alone is the result. As these words were being spoken, a celestial chariot suddenly appeared, surrounded by the radiant residents of Vaikuṇṭha, shining with brilliant light. While all watched, the son of Dhundhulī ascended the celestial chariot. Seeing the Vaiṣṇavas within, Gokarṇa addressed them, saying, “Here, indeed, are many pure listeners of mine. Why have celestial chariots not come for all of them at the same time? All here have listened equally—why then is there a difference in result? Let the devotees of Hari explain.” The servants of Hari replied, “The difference in result is due to the difference in hearing. Though all have listened, not all have reflected as deeply. Thus, even in worship, differences in result arise, O respectful one. The departed soul performed his hearing while fasting for seven nights, engaging in deep reflection and concentration of mind.” They continued, “Knowledge that is not firm is destroyed; hearing is ruined by negligence; a mantra is lost if doubted; recitation is spoiled by a distracted mind. A place not devoted to Viṣṇu is ruined; a śrāddha performed for the unworthy is ruined; charity given to one unlearned in scripture is ruined; and a family is ruined by misconduct. But faith in the words of the guru, humility within oneself, conquering the faults of the mind, and unwavering attention in the narration—if these and the like are accomplished, then the fruit of hearing is truly attained. At the end of the narration, residence in Vaikuṇṭha is certain for all.” “O Gokarṇa,” they concluded, “Govinda himself will grant you Goloka.” Having spoken thus, all the devotees of Hari departed to Vaikuṇṭha. In the following month, Gokarṇa again recited the sacred narration, and once more, the people gathered and listened for seven nights. “O Nārada,” the story continues, “listen now to what happened at the conclusion of this narration.” Hari himself appeared there, surrounded by his devotees and celestial chariots. At that moment, cries of victory and salutations arose. Out of joy, Hari sounded the Pāñcajanya conch, and embracing Gokarṇa, he made him like himself. Instantly, Hari made the other listeners dark-hued like rain clouds, clothed in yellow silk, crowned, and adorned with earrings. Even those in that village born among horse-keepers and outcastes were placed in celestial chariots at that time by the grace of Gokarṇa. Those sent to the realm of Hari, where yogis aspire to go, the cowherd and Gokarṇa together reached Goloka, the beloved realm of the cowherds. Pleased by the hearing of these stories, the Lord, who cherishes his devotees, departed. Just as the residents of Ayodhya were united with Rama in the past, so too were these souls led by Krishna to Goloka—a place difficult for even yogis to attain. They went to that world where neither the sun, nor the moon, nor even the perfected beings ever reach, all by the power of hearing the glorious Bhāgavata. It is declared: what radiant fruit is gathered by seven-day sacrifices in stories! For those who have drunk the syllables of Gokarṇa’s tale with their ears, even those in the womb are not born again. By consuming only wind, water, and leaves, by austerities that dry the body, by fierce penances accumulated over long ages, and by yogic practices—none can attain that state which is reached by hearing the seven-day narration. Even the sage Śāṇḍilya, lord among sages, residing in Citrakūṭa, recites this sacred history, immersed in the bliss of Brahman. This narration is supremely pure; hearing it even once destroys the mass of sins. When used in a śrāddha, it brings satisfaction to the ancestors; by daily recitation, one attains liberation and does not return. Now begins the chapter on the Glory of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata, and the procedure for the seven-day recitation. The Kumāras said, “Now we shall explain the procedure for seven-day hearing. It is remembered that the rite is best accomplished with companions and with wealth. One should summon an astrologer, carefully inquire about the most auspicious time, and arrange the resources as one would for a wedding.” “The months of Nabhas, Āśvina, Urja, and Mārgashīrsha are pure and auspicious for beginning the narration; these months are signs of liberation for the listeners. The other months are to be avoided by the Brahmins—those should be left aside entirely. Other companions should be appointed there, and those who are diligent.” “In each region, this message should be sent out with effort: the narration will take place here, and householders should come. Some stories of Hari and the praises of Acyuta may be far away; women, Śūdras, and others—be sure their instruction is ensured. In every region, those detached Vaiṣṇavas who are eager for kīrtan—letters should be sent to them, and their writing is thus prescribed.” “The gathering of the virtuous will occur for seven nights—a very rare event—and here, the narration will be of a unique and unprecedented flavor.