At the break of day, he presented himself before the rising sun, performing his morning duties with calm self-possession. He satisfied the needs of his own being and, with reverence, worshipped the gods, sages, ancestors, elders, and Brahmins. His heart was steady and composed. In acts of charity, he gifted to the Brahmins cows of exceptional virtue—cows with golden horns, adorned with garlands of pearls, healthy and well-nourished, yielding rich milk, accompanied by their calves, and draped in fine cloth. Each day, he continued to offer decorated Brahmins cows whose hooves were tipped with silver, along with gifts of linen, deer skins, and sesame seeds. He bowed humbly to cows, Brahmins, deities, elders, teachers, and indeed to all living beings. Then, touching auspicious objects that had arisen from his own self, he invoked blessings for the day ahead. He adorned himself—he who was the ornament of mankind—with his own garments and jewels, divine garlands, and fragrant ointments. Observing the sacred sacrificial fire and gazing into a mirror, he again gave gifts to cows, bulls, Brahmins, and deities, fulfilling the desires of all—citizens and the women of the palace alike—pleasing them and receiving their blessings in return. With care, he distributed garlands, betel leaves, and fragrant ointments, first to the Brahmins, then to his friends, attendants, and wives, and only afterward did he enjoy these delights himself. Meanwhile, Suta, his charioteer, brought forth a wondrous chariot, yoked with splendid horses such as Sugriva and others, and stood before him, offering respectful obeisance. Grasping the charioteer’s hand, he ascended the chariot, accompanied by Satyaki and Uddhava, shining resplendently like the sun rising over the eastern mountains. As he prepared to depart, the women of the palace gazed at him with bashful, loving glances, reluctant to let him go. Smiling gently, he left, captivating their hearts as he went. Surrounded by the Vrishnis, he entered the grand assembly hall called Sudharma, a place where those seated were free from the six waves of suffering. Seated upon the highest throne, the Lord shone with his own effulgence, illuminating all directions. Surrounded by the heroic Yadus, he appeared like the moon amidst a sky full of stars. In that hall, the master of ceremonies and the dance teachers approached him with laughter and joy, and the dancers began their distinct tandava performances. The air was filled with the sounds of mridangas, vinas, murajas, flutes, and cymbals, as the dancers danced, sang, and offered praises. Sutas, Magadhas, and bards all recited their eulogies. There, Brahmins well-versed in the Vedas sat and recounted stories of former kings renowned for their virtue. Amidst this, a man of unprecedented appearance arrived. Announced by the doorkeepers, he was ushered into the assembly and bowed before Krishna, the Supreme Lord, joining his palms in respect. He then addressed the assembly, reporting the distress caused by Jarasandha’s imprisonment of many kings. He explained that those kings who had not submitted to Jarasandha’s conquest were forcibly detained by him—twenty thousand kings were held captive in Girivraja. The kings, through their messenger, 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.” They lamented the unrighteousness that pervaded the world, saying that even such suffering, though arising from Krishna, was ultimately for his worship. They expressed their helplessness, declaring that no one could transgress the Lord’s command or claim the fruits of action independently. “The happiness of kings,” they said, “is like a fleeting dream, dependent on others and always shadowed by fear. We have abandoned true happiness found in the self, attainable through you alone, and thus we suffer, deluded by your māyā.” The kings pleaded, “May you, whose feet remove the sorrows of those who seek refuge, release us from the fetters of the Magadhan’s deeds. You alone, with the strength of ten thousand elephants, have restrained the king who, like a lion among beasts, confined us in his palace. Though proud and eager to conquer the world, Jarasandha was defeated by you twenty-two times when you broke his noble disc in battle. Now he afflicts your people—O unconquered one, act as you see fit.” The messenger concluded, “Thus, these kings, held captive by the Magadhan and longing to see you, have taken refuge at your feet. Please grant well-being to these afflicted ones.” As the royal messenger finished speaking, the divine sage Narada suddenly appeared, radiant and bearing tawny matted locks, shining like the sun itself. Seeing the sage, Bhagavan Krishna, Lord of all the lords of the worlds, rose from his seat along with his assembly and followers, and joyfully bowed his head in respect. Krishna honored Narada properly, offering him a seat and addressing him with pleasing words, full of faith and reverence. He inquired, “Is all well today among the three worlds, free from fear? Surely, the virtue of the Lord increases as you travel among the worlds. Nothing is unknown to you, O Lord among creators. Therefore, we ask you: what do the Pandavas intend?” Narada replied, “O Lord, I have witnessed your māyā many times—so difficult to overcome. O Master, Creator of the universe, wielder of māyā, as you move among beings with your own powers, your glory is hidden, like fire concealed in wood; thus, nothing astonishes me. Who indeed can fully know your actions here, as you create and withdraw this world by your own māyā? What appears to exist is only a reflection of understanding. I bow to you, whose true nature is beyond all distinctions. He who grants liberation to the soul wandering in saṃsāra, who is untouched by bodily suffering, and who by his playful descents kindles his own fame—I take refuge in him, who dispels darkness.” Narada continued, “Yet, O Brahman, I shall tell you what is intended by your devotee, the son of your paternal aunt—the king—who is about to perform a deed that will amaze the world. The son of Pandu, desiring the status of Brahma, will worship you with the Rajasūya sacrifice, O Lord. May you be pleased with this.” “At that supreme sacrifice, O God, you will be seen by the gods and other illustrious kings, who will assemble there out of eagerness. By hearing, singing, or meditating upon you, O Lord of Brahman, even those who dwell near are purified—how much more so those who see or touch you? The pure fame of your feet is renowned in heaven, on earth, and in the netherworld. The water flowing from your feet—called Mandakini in heaven, Bhogavati below, and Ganga here—sanctifies the universe. May that water bless all the worlds.” Śuka then said: As those gathered on Krishna’s side were eager for conquest, Keśava, smiling and with sweet words, addressed his servant Uddhava: “You are indeed our supreme eye, a true friend who knows the essence and purpose of counsel. Therefore, speak here what should be done; we have faith and shall act accordingly.