Victorious and resplendent, Kṛṣṇa entered the beautifully adorned city, surrounded by the foremost among the Vṛṣṇis. As he proceeded, the air was filled with songs of his triumph and showers of fragrant flowers from those who adored him. Yet, though he is the Lord of Yoga, the Blessed One, the Supreme Lord of the universe, people of limited vision—those who see only outwardly—perceive him as sometimes conquered, sometimes victorious, not understanding his true nature. At this time, news of the impending war between the Kurus and the Pāṇḍavas reached Rāma, Kṛṣṇa’s elder brother. Wishing to remain neutral, Rāma departed under the pretext of going on pilgrimage. He bathed at the holy place of Prabhāsa, offering worship and satisfying the gods, sages, ancestors, and men. Accompanied by brāhmaṇas, he journeyed upstream along the sacred Sarasvatī river, visiting many holy sites: Pṛthūdaka, Bindusaras, Tritakūpa, Sudarśana, Viśāla, Brahmatīrtha, Cakra, and the eastern Sarasvatī. Following the course of the Yamunā and then the Gaṅgā, Rāma made his way to Naimiṣa, where a great assembly of sages was engaged in a long sacrificial session. At his arrival, the sages, intent on their sacrifice, rose up, bowed, and welcomed him with all due honor and custom. Honored thus, Rāma and his attendants accepted the offered seats. There, he beheld Romaharṣaṇa, the disciple of the great sage, seated prominently among the assembly. Rāma observed that Romaharṣaṇa, though a sūta and of lower birth, did not rise, nor offer respectful greetings with folded hands, but remained seated, as did the other brāhmaṇas. Mādhava, seeing this lack of respect—Romaharṣaṇa sitting above the brāhmaṇas, the protectors of dharma, and even above himself—felt anger arise within him. He declared that such disrespect from a low-born man, especially one who had studied the sacred histories, Purāṇas, and dharma-śāstras under a divine sage, was intolerable. For knowledge without discipline and humility is empty, like an actor who has not mastered himself. Rāma proclaimed that he had descended into this world precisely to correct such hypocrisy: those who wear the guise of dharma but are truly sinful must be removed. Yet, though he spoke thus, he refrained from outright killing. Instead, after contemplation, he struck Romaharṣaṇa with a blade of kuśa grass held in his hand. At this, the sages lamented in distress, crying out, “O Lord Saṅkarṣaṇa, you have committed a wrongful act! O descendant of Yadu, we had granted Romaharṣaṇa the seat of Brahmā, and promised him life and freedom from fatigue for the duration of this sacrifice. Unknowingly, you have committed brahma-hatya—the slaying of a brāhmaṇa. Not even your name is exempt from the law. If this act will purify the sin of brahma-hatya, O purifier of the worlds, then you yourself should undertake the proper expiation, without being prompted by another.” The Blessed Lord replied, “I shall perform the prescribed expiation for this killing, desiring the welfare of the world. Let the same rule be established as in the first age. Long life, strength, and senses were indeed promised to him; what you have spoken, I shall accomplish by my yogic power.” The sages responded, “So let it be, O Rāma, that your word, the power of your weapon, and our own word, all remain true.” Then Rāma said, “The self is indeed born as the son—so declares the Veda. Therefore, let his son be the speaker, endowed with life, senses, and strength.” He then asked the sages, “What is your wish, O best of sages? Speak, and I shall do it. Consider well, O wise ones, how I may atone for my unknowing act.” The sages replied, “There is a fierce demon named Balvala, son of Ilvala, who comes at every festival and defiles our sacrifice. O descendant of Daśārha, slay this wicked one for us—that is our highest wish. He showers pus, blood, excrement, urine, liquor, and flesh upon us, polluting our sacred rites.” They continued, “Then, having left the land of Bharata with a steady mind, after wandering for twelve months and bathing at holy places, you will become purified.” Later, King Parīkṣit, eager to hear more, addressed the sage: “O venerable one, I wish to hear other heroic deeds of Mukunda, the great soul of infinite power. Who, having once heard the sacred stories of the praiseworthy Lord, would ever tire of listening—except one deeply afflicted by desire and ignorant of their true worth? That speech alone is truly speech which praises His qualities; those hands alone are hands which perform His deeds; that mind alone is a mind which remembers Him dwelling among all beings; and those ears alone are ears which hear His holy stories. That head is truly a head which bows to Him who bears both forms; those eyes alone see which behold Him; those limbs are truly limbs which serve the water that has washed the feet of Viṣṇu or His devotees.” Sūta, the narrator, said: Thus questioned by Viṣṇurāta, the blessed son of Badarāyaṇa, whose heart was immersed in Lord Vāsudeva, spoke. Śuka began: Kṛṣṇa had a brāhmaṇa friend who was deeply learned in the Veda, detached from sense pleasures, peaceful in mind, and self-controlled. Though a householder, he lived simply, accepting whatever came by chance. His wife, thin from hunger, shared his austere life; her clothing was in tatters. One day, the devoted wife, her face pale and trembling from hardship, approached her suffering husband and spoke: “O brāhmaṇa, is not the Lord, the husband of Śrī herself, your friend? He is devoted to the brāhmaṇas, the refuge of all, and the exalted Lord of the Sātvatas. Go to Him, O blessed one, who is the supreme shelter of the virtuous. Surely, He will grant you abundant wealth, for you are a householder in distress. Now He resides in Dvārakā as the Lord of the Bhojas, Vṛṣṇis, and Andhakas. Even as He remembers His own lotus feet, He offers Himself to His devotees. Why would the teacher of the world not grant the desired objects, even those not sought, to one who worships Him?” Thus, gently entreated again and again by his wife, the brāhmaṇa thought, “Indeed, the greatest gain is to see the Lord, who is praised in the highest hymns.” Deciding to go, he asked his wife, “Is there any gift at home, O good lady? Let something be given.” She went to the brāhmaṇas and begged four handfuls of flat rice, tied them in a piece of cloth, and gave them to her husband as an offering for the Lord.