Having witnessed the wondrous play of Krishna’s yogamāyā and the human-like conduct he had assumed, the sage Nārada, as if smiling, addressed Hṛṣīkeśa. “O Lord,” he said, “we are aware of your inscrutable yoga-māyā, which even those skilled in illusion find difficult to perceive. This power, shining from the Lord of yogis, becomes accessible only through devoted service at your feet. Now, O Krishna, permit me to depart for those worlds resounding with your fame. I shall wander, singing your playful deeds that purify the universe.” To this, the Blessed Lord replied with gentle assurance, “Do not grieve, my son. I am the speaker and agent of the householders’ duties, acting with their approval. By teaching these ways, I have taken up this world.” Śuka, the narrator, continued: Thus, as Krishna performed the pure and sanctifying duties of a householder, Nārada saw the Lord present in every home—the one abiding everywhere. Again and again, the sage beheld Krishna’s great manifestation of yoga-māyā, limitless in power, and he was filled with astonishment and curiosity. Honored in every way by Krishna, who was steadfastly devoted to the duties of wealth, pleasure, and righteousness, Nārada departed, his heart filled with joy, remembering only the Lord. In this way, following the path of human life, Nārāyaṇa—whose power is wielded for the good of all beings—enjoyed himself among sixteen thousand chosen women, surrounded by their shy, affectionate glances and gentle smiles. Whatever actions Hari performed in this world—actions that are the very cause of creation and dissolution, having no other aim—whoever, O dear one, sings, hears, or even approves of them, finds devotion for the Lord arising within, leading them on the path of liberation. Thus concludes the sixty-ninth chapter, “The Vision of Krishna’s Household Life,” in the tenth book, second half, of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, scripture of the supreme swan. Śuka then continued: As dawn approached and the roosters began to crow, Krishna’s wives, afflicted by the pangs of separation, were lovingly embraced by their husbands. The birds, awakening with the morning, seemed to praise Krishna with their sleepless songs, stirred by the gentle breezes from the Mandara forest. For a brief moment, Vaidarbhi could not bear the sweet pain of separation after having nestled in her beloved’s embrace. At the sacred Brahma hour, Mādhava rose and, after touching water, with a clear and tranquil mind, meditated upon himself—the one who is beyond all darkness. He is self-luminous, unique, imperishable, eternally pure by his own nature, called Brahman. By his own powers, he brings forth and dissolves the universe, and his bliss shines through all his energies. Having bathed in pure water and donned clean garments, Krishna, the most virtuous, performed the sequence of daily rituals. He offered fire, recited the sacred Brahman with controlled speech, and presented himself to the rising sun. He satisfied the portions of his own self and worshipped the gods, sages, ancestors, elders, and Brahmins, all while remaining self-possessed. He gave to the Brahmins cows with golden horns, adorned with pearl garlands, virtuous and healthy, yielding milk, with calves and fine clothing. Day after day, he gifted decorated Brahmins cows with silver-tipped hooves, along with linen, deer skins, and sesame seeds. He bowed respectfully to cows, Brahmins, deities, elders, teachers, and to all living beings. Touching auspicious objects that had originated from himself, he invoked blessings. Adorning himself—the ornament of all mankind—with his own garments, jewels, divine garlands, and fragrant ointments, Krishna observed the sacrificial fire and the mirror, gave gifts to cows, bulls, Brahmins, and deities, and fulfilled the desires of all classes, including citizens and the women of the palace, pleasing them and receiving their blessings. He distributed garlands, betel, and ointments first to the Brahmins, then to his friends, attendants, and wives, and only afterwards enjoyed them himself. Meanwhile, Suta, his charioteer, brought forth a wondrous chariot yoked with splendid horses like Sugriva and others, and stood before Krishna after offering his obeisance. Taking Suta’s hand in his own, Krishna ascended the chariot, accompanied by Satyaki and Uddhava, shining like the sun rising over the eastern mountain. The women of the palace gazed at him with shy, loving glances; reluctantly, they let him go, as he departed with a captivating smile, stealing their hearts. Surrounded by all the Vrishnis, Krishna entered the assembly hall called Sudharma, where those seated are free from the six waves of suffering. Seated upon the highest throne, the Lord shone with his own brilliance, illuminating all directions. Surrounded by the heroic Yadus, he appeared like the moon among the stars in the sky. There, the master of ceremonies and the dance teachers approached Krishna with laughter and joy, and the dancers performed distinct tandava dances. The hall resounded with the music of mridanga, vina, muraja, flute, and cymbals, as they danced, sang, and praised; the Sutas, Magadhas, and bards offered their eulogies. Some Brahmins, seated and learned in Brahman, narrated the stories of former kings of virtuous fame. Then, O King, a man of unprecedented appearance arrived. Announced by the doorkeepers, he was ushered before Bhagavan Krishna. Bowing with joined palms, he reported to Krishna and the assembled kings the distress caused by Jarasandha’s imprisonment. “Those kings who did not submit to his conquest,” he said, “were forcibly detained. Now, two sets of ten thousand kings are held captive in Girivraja.” The captive kings, in their plea, cried out: “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 steeped in unrighteous deeds, heedless of virtue; yet this action, arising from you, is for worshipping you. Whoever here, strong as he may be, suddenly ends the hope of life for the sleepless tyrant—salutations to him. You, O Lord, have descended for the protection of the righteous and the subjugation of the wicked. Who can transgress your command, O master? Or who truly attains the fruit of their own actions? We do not know. The happiness of kings is like a fleeting dream, dependent on others; ever burdened by fear, we bear a life as good as dead. Abandoning the happiness found within the self—so easily attained through you—we suffer greatly, deluded by your māyā in this world. Therefore, O Lord, whose feet remove the sorrows 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, has confined us in his palace. Though his pride was firm and he delighted in conquest, he was defeated by you, O Lord of infinite power, when you broke his noble disc in battle twenty-two times. Now he afflicts your people. O unconquered One, please act as you see fit.” Thus, the kings appealed to Krishna, seeking deliverance from their suffering at the hands of Jarasandha, and the assembly awaited the Lord’s response, filled with hope and devotion.