When the great Rajasuya sacrifice reached its conclusion, all the officiating priests, assistants, and the most honored friends were respectfully offered gifts, sweet words, and proper hospitality. Only after ensuring everyone was duly honored did the Lord of the Sātvatas, Krishna, enter the sacrificial arena, having just slain the envious Śiśupāla. With the principal rites completed, the participants performed the concluding ceremonial bath in the celestial river. As this auspicious ritual bath commenced, a jubilant festival atmosphere arose. The mridanga, conch, panava, dhundhuri, anaka, and gomukha—various musical instruments—resounded in celebration. Joyful dancers whirled and stepped in rhythm, while groups of singers filled the air with melodious songs. The notes of the vina and flute, along with the sound of clapping hands, seemed to rise up and touch the very heavens. The kings, splendidly adorned with golden garlands, departed the arena in grand processions, riding elephants and chariots festooned with vibrant banners and flags. Their warriors, also resplendently decorated, accompanied them, forming a majestic spectacle. The mighty Yadus, Sṛñjayas, Kambojas, Kurus, Kekayas, and Kosalas, each leading their armies, caused the earth itself to tremble as they approached the sacrifice. Distinguished sages, officiants, and the best among the twice-born chanted Vedic hymns in loud, resonant voices. Their praises were echoed by the gods, sages, ancestors, and gandharvas, who showered down flowers from the heavens in approval and delight. Within the festive crowds, men and women—adorned with fragrant garlands, glittering ornaments, and fine garments—playfully sprinkled each other with water, reveling in various delights. The women, their bodies anointed with oil, cow’s ghee, fragrant powders, turmeric, and rich saffron, engaged in playful sport with the men, laughter and joy abounding. Protected by trusted men, the queens slipped out unnoticed, moving gracefully like celestial ladies in their divine chariots. Their faces glowed with bashful smiles as they were playfully sprinkled by their maternal relatives and friends. Together with their companions, the queens enthusiastically sprinkled the gods, their wet garments clinging to their forms, their loosened garlands falling, and their beauty stirring the hearts of those with impure minds. Amidst this joyous celebration, the emperor himself shone, seated in a chariot drawn by the finest horses and adorned with gold, surrounded by his radiant wives—like the lord of a sacrifice amidst its rituals. After the ritual bath, the officiants, purified and sanctified, bathed the king in the sacred Ganges, together with Krishna by his side. Divine drums resounded in harmony with earthly drums, and the gods, sages, ancestors, and humans showered flowers in blessing. People from every class and stage of life gathered and bathed, for even those burdened with great sins found themselves instantly purified in that sacred moment. Clad in fine silk and splendidly adorned, the king honored the officiants, sages, and brahmins with gifts of ornaments and garments. His devotion to Narayana shone forth as he repeatedly honored his relatives, acquaintances, kings, friends, and all others present. All the people glowed with a celestial radiance, adorned with jeweled earrings, garlands, turbans, jackets, fine cloth, and precious necklaces. The women, their faces radiant and beautiful, wore pairs of earrings, clusters of bangles, and golden girdles, making the assembly shine like a heavenly gathering. The officiants of great virtue, the sages, and the brahminical scholars, together with the assembled kings of every class—brahmin, kshatriya, vaishya, and shudra—gathered in that sacred place. The gods, sages, ancestors, spirits, and guardians of the worlds, along with their attendants, having been duly honored, gave their blessings and returned to their own abodes. The royal sages could not tire of praising the grandeur of Haridasa’s Rajasuya sacrifice, just as mortals never tire of drinking nectar. At last, King Yudhishthira, full of affection, bade farewell to his friends, relatives, and kinsmen—and with special reluctance, to Krishna himself. The Blessed Lord, Krishna, who brings joy to his dear ones, remained for some time, but soon sent the Yadu heroes, including Samba and others, back to Kusasthali. Thus, the son of Dharma, King Yudhishthira, with Krishna’s help, crossed the vast ocean of his cherished desires—a journey so difficult for mortals—and became free from distress. Yet, even in the midst of such grandeur, Duryodhana, in the palace, beheld the splendor and felt tormented by the greatness of the Rajasuya and the glory of Lord Achyuta. In that wondrous hall, where the wealth of kings, demons, and gods—arranged by the Creator—dazzled the eye, Krishna stood beside Draupadi, the daughter of Drupada, and Kururaja’s heart was ensnared and tormented with envy. There, at that time, a thousand queens of Krishna, their hips full and anklets softly tinkling, surrounded his radiant face adorned with crimson necklaces, beautiful earrings, and flowing locks. In the assembly hall built by Maya, the emperor Yudhishthira, son of Dharma, sat surrounded by his followers, kinsmen, and Krishna, who watched attentively. Seated upon a golden throne, like Indra himself and endowed with supreme prosperity, Yudhishthira was praised by bards and poets. Duryodhana, proud and encircled by his brothers, wearing a crown and garland, sat with sword in hand, casting it down in a fit of anger. Confused by Maya’s illusion, Duryodhana mistook the dry floor for water and grasped the edge of a garment, believing it to be wet. Then, stepping into water, he thought it to be solid ground. Witnessing this, Bhima burst into laughter, joined by the women and other kings. Though Yudhishthira tried to restrain them, Krishna himself approved their laughter. Ashamed and burning with anger, Duryodhana left the hall silently for Gajaha, his face downcast. A great cry of 'Alas!' arose among the virtuous, and Ajatasatru, Yudhishthira, was troubled in heart. The Blessed Lord, wishing to relieve the earth’s burden, remained silent and watched with wandering eyes. O King, thus have I described to you what you inquired about—the wickedness and humiliation of Suyodhana at the great Rajasuya sacrifice. Thus ends the seventy-fifth chapter, called 'The Humbling of Duryodhana’s Pride,' in the tenth canto, second half, of the glorious Bhagavata Purana, the scripture of the supreme swans. Now, O King, listen to another wondrous deed of Krishna. Hear how the playful, bodyless Lord slew the mighty lord of Saubha. Shalva, a close friend of the slain Shishupala, had once come to the wedding of Rukmini. There, he and his allies, including Jarasandha, were defeated in battle by the powerful Yadus. Stung by defeat, Shalva made a bold vow before all the assembled kings: “I will rid the earth of the Yadavas—witness my valor!” Having made such a rash promise, Shalva sought the favor of the Lord, the master of all creatures, by performing a severe act of worship—he swallowed a handful of dust just once as an offering. At the end of a year, the gracious Lord, the husband of Uma—Shiva himself—being easily pleased, appeared before Shalva and offered him a boon, for Shalva had come to him for refuge. Shalva chose a boon most formidable: a vehicle, terrifying to the Vrishnis, which could travel anywhere at will and could not be destroyed by gods, demons, humans, Gandharvas, serpents, or Rakshasas. Thus, Shalva prepared himself for battle, setting the stage for another wondrous act of Krishna.