Those who do not hear the sacred narrations of the Lord are like bubbles in water, like insects among creatures—born only to perish, their lives fleeting and empty. But just as it is wondrous to see the tough knot of a dry bamboo split, how much more wondrous it is when the tight knot of the heart is loosened by the power of hearing these divine stories. When one listens to the narration for seven days, the knot of the heart is broken, all doubts are cut away, and the burden of past actions is exhausted. When the mind is firmly established at the holy ford of these sacred tales—which are most capable of cleansing away the mire of worldly existence—the wise declare that liberation is assured. It was at such a moment, as these truths were being spoken, that a celestial chariot appeared, surrounded by the radiant residents of Vaikuṇṭha, shining with a brilliant aura. Before the eyes of all, the son of Dhundhulī ascended the celestial chariot. Seeing the noble Vaiṣṇavas within it, Gokarṇa addressed them with respectful words: “Here are many pure-hearted listeners of mine—why have celestial chariots not come for all of them at once? All have heard equally; why, then, is there a difference in the result? Let the devotees of Hari explain.” The servants of Hari replied, “O respectful one, the difference in result arises from the difference in hearing. Though all have listened, not all have reflected as deeply. Even in worship, differences in attention bring differences in outcome. The departed soul who ascended the chariot listened while fasting for seven nights, engaging in deep reflection and single-minded concentration.” They continued: “Knowledge that is not firmly held is destroyed; hearing is ruined by negligence. A mantra is lost if doubted, and recitation is spoiled by a distracted mind. A place not devoted to Viṣṇu is ruined, a śrāddha performed for the unworthy is wasted, charity given to one ignorant of scripture is lost, 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 during the narration—if these and similar virtues are accomplished, then the true fruit of hearing is attained. At the end of the narration, residence in Vaikuṇṭha is certain for all.” The devotees concluded, “O Gokarṇa, Govinda himself will grant you Goloka.” Having spoken thus, the devotees of Hari departed to Vaikuṇṭha. The following month, Gokarṇa again recited the narration, and the listeners once more performed the seven-day hearing with devotion. O Nārada, listen now to what happened at the conclusion of that sacred recitation. Hari himself appeared there, surrounded by devotees and celestial chariots. At that time, shouts of victory and salutations filled the air. Out of joy, Hari sounded the Pāñcajanya conch and, embracing Gokarṇa, made him like himself—divine and radiant. Instantly, Hari transformed the other listeners as well, making them dark-hued like rain clouds, clothed in yellow silk, crowned and adorned with shining earrings. Even those living in that village, born among horse-keepers and outcastes, were lifted into celestial chariots by the grace of Gokarṇa. All were sent to the realm of Hari, the very place where great yogis aspire to go. That cowherd, along with Gokarṇa, reached Goloka, beloved of the cowherds. Pleased by their devotion in hearing the stories, the Lord who cherishes his devotees departed. Just as the residents of Ayodhya were united with Rama in times past, so too were these devotees led by Krishna to Goloka—a realm difficult even for yogis to attain. To that world, where neither the sun, nor the moon, nor even the perfected beings can reach, they went by virtue of hearing the glorious Bhagavata. Let it be proclaimed: 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 severe austerities that dry the body, by fierce penances over long years, and by yogic practices, one does not attain what is gained 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 next teaching: The Glory of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata—The Procedure for Seven-Day Recitation. The Kumāras spoke: “We shall explain the procedure for seven-day hearing. It is remembered that this rite is generally accomplished with companions and wealth. One should summon an astrologer, carefully inquire about the auspicious time, and arrange the resources as one would for a wedding. The months of Nabhas, Āśvina, Ūrja, and Mārgashīrṣa are pure and auspicious for beginning the narration; these months indicate liberation for the listeners. The other months are to be avoided by Brahmins and left aside entirely. Other companions should be appointed there, 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 praises of Acyuta may be far away; women, Shudras, and others—make sure their instruction is ensured. In each region, those detached Vaishnavas 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, which is very rare; here, the narration will be of a unique and unprecedented flavor. Those who are eager to drink the nectar of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata, you all should quickly come, devoted to love. If there is no space at any time, even for a single day, still, in every way, attendance should be ensured; even a moment here is very rare. In this way, arrangements should be made for them, with humility; accommodations for all visitors should be provided. Whether at a sacred place, in the forest, or at home, listening is esteemed; wherever the earth is spacious, that is a suitable place for narrating these sacred stories.