As the gentle sage Nārada wandered, he came upon a sorrowful young woman, her face radiant yet clouded with worry. She looked up at him and spoke with reverence, “O holy one, please stay but a moment and dispel my anxiety. Your very presence destroys the sins of the world. By your words alone, relief from suffering will come; only when great fortune arises does one gain the company of such as you.” Seeing her distress, Nārada responded with compassion, “Who are you, gentle lady? Who are these two with you, and who are these lotus-eyed women by your side? Tell me, O goddess, what is the cause of your sorrow?” The young woman replied, “I am known as Bhakti—Devotion. These two are my sons: Jñāna, which is Knowledge, and Vairāgya, which is Renunciation. Now, worn by the influence of time, they have grown old and feeble. These others, led by Gaṅgā, have come here to serve me, remembering our past. Even the gods have served me, yet I have found no true welfare. Listen, O sage rich in austerity, to my story. Though it is well known, hearing it will bring happiness to your heart. I was born in Drāviḍa, grew up in Karṇāṭaka, and in some places in Mahārāṣṭra and Gurjara, I became aged. There, under the terrible influence of Kali, I was attacked by heretics and became weak; for a long time, I remained feeble along with my sons. But when I reached Vṛndāvana again, I became youthful and beautiful, regaining my prime. Yet here my two sons lie exhausted from fatigue. I am about to leave this place and go elsewhere, but their old age causes me great pain. Though I am young, why are my sons so aged? How has this reversal come about, when it is natural for a mother to age and her sons to remain young? I grieve for myself, my mind filled with wonder. O wise one, treasure of yoga, tell me—what could be the cause?” Nārada, perceiving her anguish, replied gently, “By knowledge, O sinless one, I see all this within myself. Do not be despondent, for Hari will bring you auspiciousness.” Instantly grasping his words, the great sage continued, “Listen attentively, child. This yoga and the fierce age of Kali have caused the disappearance of good conduct, the path of yoga, and austerities. People have become like Aghāsura, engaging in deceit and wicked deeds. Here, the virtuous are distressed while the unrighteous rejoice, but the wise who maintain courage are truly steadfast and learned. Seeing these untouchables, the earth has become a burden-bearer; year by year, no auspiciousness is to be seen. Now, no one even sees you together with your sons—neglected by those blinded by attachment, you have been reduced to a state of decrepitude. Yet, by union with Vṛndāvana, you became young and fresh again; blessed is Vṛndāvana, where devotion itself dances. But here, due to the absence of those who would receive them, even old age does not leave your sons; with a little self-contentment, they consider themselves at rest.” Bhakti then asked, “How was impure Kali established by King Parīkṣit? With the onset of Kali, where did the essence of all virtue go? Even by the compassionate Hari, how is unrighteousness witnessed? Please remove this doubt of mine with your words, so I may find peace.” Nārada replied, “Since you have asked, child, listen with affection. I will tell you everything, O fortunate one, and your confusion will depart. When Mukunda, the Lord, left the earth and returned to His own abode, from that day Kali arrived, obstructing all means of virtue. King Parīkṣit, during his conquest of the directions, saw Kali, miserable and seeking refuge. He did not kill him, just as a bee is spared by the honey-gatherer. Yet, what cannot be attained by austerity, yoga, or meditation is fully attained in Kali-yuga by the praise of Keśava. Seeing Kali as uniform, devoid of essence and substance, Viṣṇurāta established him for the happiness of those born in Kali. Because of evil deeds, the essence has now departed from everywhere; the objects of the earth remain like husks without seed. The brāhmaṇas once made the Bhāgavata teaching known in every home and to every person, but because of greed for payment, the essence of the stories has departed. Those who perform terrible and abundant deeds, the atheistic and hellish people—even they remain at holy places, but the essence of the holy places has departed. Even those whose minds are agitated by great desire, anger, greed, and thirst remain engaged in austerity, but the true essence of austerity is lost. Because of the defeat of the mind, out of greed, hypocrisy, and resorting to heresy, and even from the mere study of scriptures, the fruit of meditation and yoga is lost. The learned delight with their wives like buffaloes, skillful in producing sons but unskilled in attaining liberation. Nowhere is true Vaiṣṇavism found, even among the leaders of the traditions; thus, the true essence of reality has perished everywhere. But this is the nature of the age—who can be blamed? Therefore, the Lotus-eyed Lord endures, standing nearby.” Hearing these words, all present were filled with wonder. Bhakti spoke again, “O sage among the gods, you are truly blessed, for you have come here by my good fortune. The sight of the virtuous in this world bestows all perfections. Victory, victory to Him whose body is the basis of illusion, who by a single utterance creates all speech! By His grace, Dhruva attained the eternal state. I bow to the son of Brahmā, the vessel of all auspiciousness.” As the new chapter began, Nārada, seeing Bhakti’s distress, spoke with gentle encouragement: “Child, why do you grieve in vain, so troubled by anxiety? Remember the lotus feet of Śrī Kṛṣṇa—your sorrow will depart.