In the inner chambers and throughout the residences, Krishna, the Lord of yoga, moved with a form that was unmanifest, desiring to experience various states. His presence was subtle, hidden from ordinary view, as he enacted his divine pastimes. Then, Narada, having witnessed the wondrous display of Krishna’s yogamaya and the human-like conduct he had assumed, approached him with a smile and spoke. “O Hrishikesha, we know your yoga-maya, which is difficult to perceive even for those skilled in illusion. It shines forth from you, the Lord of yogis, and is revealed to those who serve at your feet.” Narada then requested, “O Lord, grant me permission to depart for the worlds flooded with your fame. I will wander, singing your playful deeds that purify the universe.” Krishna 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 continued the narration, explaining that as Krishna practiced the pure duties that sanctify householders, Narada saw the Lord present in every home, the one abiding everywhere. Repeatedly witnessing the great manifestation of Krishna’s yoga-maya, whose power is limitless, the sage was astonished and filled with curiosity. Thus, Narada, fully honored by Krishna—who was devoted in mind to the duties of wealth, pleasure, and righteousness—departed, pleased and remembering only Him. In this way, following the path of human life, Narayana, whose power is assumed for the sake of all beings, enjoyed himself among sixteen thousand chosen women, surrounded by their bashful, friendly glances and smiles. Whatever actions Hari performed here, which are the cause of the creation and dissolution of the universe and have no other object, whoever sings, hears, or approves them, devotion arises for the Lord on the path of liberation. So concludes the sixty-ninth chapter, named ‘The Vision of Krishna’s Household Life,’ in the tenth book, second half, of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, the scripture of the supreme swan. Śuka continued: Then, as dawn approached and the roosters crowed, Krishna’s wives, afflicted by separation, were embraced by their husbands. The birds, awakening, seemed to praise Krishna, 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 entered between his arms. At the Brahma hour, Krishna rose and touched water, and with a clear mind, meditated on himself—the one beyond darkness. He is the one, self-luminous, unique, imperishable, eternally pure by his own nature, called Brahman, whose manifestation and dissolution are caused by his own powers, and whose bliss is revealed through those energies. Then, having bathed properly in pure water and donned clean garments, Krishna performed the sequence of rituals, offering fire and reciting Brahman with controlled speech. Presenting himself to the rising sun, he satisfied the portions of his own self, worshipped the gods, sages, ancestors, elders, and Brahmins, maintaining self-possession. He gave to the Brahmins cows with golden horns, virtuous, adorned with pearl garlands, yielding milk, healthy, with calves and fine clothing. Day after day, he gave to decorated Brahmins cows with silver-tipped hooves, along with linen, deer skins, and sesame seeds. He bowed to cows, Brahmins, deities, elders, teachers, and to all living beings; then, touching auspicious objects born from himself, he invoked blessings. Adorning himself—the ornament of mankind—with his own garments, jewels, divine garlands, and fragrant ointments, he observed the sacrificial fire and the mirror, gave gifts to cows, bulls, Brahmins, and deities, and fulfilled the desires of all classes—citizens and women of the palace—pleasing them and receiving their blessings. He distributed garlands, betel, and ointments first to the Brahmins, then to friends, attendants, and wives, and afterwards enjoyed them himself. Meanwhile, Suta brought forth a wondrous chariot, yoked with horses like Sugriva and others, and stood before Krishna after offering obeisance. Taking the charioteer’s hand in his own, Krishna ascended the chariot, accompanied by Satyaki and Uddhava, shining like the sun rising over the eastern mountain. He was gazed upon by the women of the palace with bashful, loving glances; released with difficulty, he departed, smiling and captivating their hearts. Surrounded by all the Vrishnis, he entered the assembly hall called Sudharma, where those seated are free from the six waves of suffering. Seated upon the highest throne, Krishna shone with his own radiance, illuminating the quarters; surrounded by heroic Yadus, he appeared like the moon among stars in the sky. There, the master of ceremonies and the dance teachers approached the Lord with various forms of laughter and joy, and the dancers performed distinct tandava dances. With the sounds of mridanga, vina, muraja, flute, and cymbals, they danced, sang, and praised; the Sutas, Magadhas, and bards offered their eulogies. Some Brahmins, seated and versed in Brahman, narrated the stories of former kings of virtuous fame. Then, a man of unprecedented appearance arrived; announced to Bhagavan by the doorkeepers, he was ushered in. He bowed to Krishna, the supreme Lord, with joined palms, and reported to the kings the distress caused by Jarasandha’s imprisonment. Those kings who did not submit to Jarasandha’s conquest were forcibly detained by him; two ten-thousand groups are held in Girivraja. The kings addressed Krishna: “Krishna, Krishna, immeasurable soul, destroyer of the fears of those who seek refuge, we come to you for shelter, fearful of worldly existence and divided in mind. The world is absorbed in unrighteous deeds, heedless of virtue; yet this action, arising from you, is for worshipping you. Whoever here, strong as he may be, suddenly cuts off the hope of life for the sleepless one—salutations to him. You, O Lord, have descended into the world for the protection of the righteous and the subjugation of the wicked. Who can transgress your command, O master? Or who attains the fruit of their own actions? We do not know. O Lord, the happiness of kings is like a dream, dependent on others; ever burdened by fear, we bear the yoke of a life as good as dead. Abandoning the happiness found in the self, which is attainable without anxiety through You, we suffer greatly—how pitiable we are, deluded by Your māyā in this world. Therefore, may You, whose feet remove the sorrow of those who take refuge, release us who are bound by the fetters of the Magadhan’s deeds. You alone, possessing the strength of ten thousand elephants, restrained the king who, like a lion among beasts, had confined us in his palace.” Thus, the kings poured out their hearts before Krishna, seeking his mercy and deliverance from their suffering.