Gently urged by his devoted wife, the brāhmaṇa pondered her words. He realized that the greatest blessing one could attain was to witness the Lord, whose praises resound in the loftiest hymns. Inspired by this thought, he resolved to go and seek a vision of Kṛṣṇa. Turning to his wife, he asked, “Is there any gift at home, O good lady? Let something be given.” With loving resolve, his wife went to the homes of other brāhmaṇas and humbly begged for four handfuls of flat rice. She tied them in a cloth and placed them in her husband’s hands as a simple offering. Taking this modest gift, the brāhmaṇa, foremost among his peers, set out for Dvārakā, his heart filled with the hope of seeing the Lord. Upon reaching Dvārakā, he passed through three enclosures and three courtyards, entering the homes of the Andhakas and Vṛṣṇis, families who followed the path of the infallible Lord. Eventually, he entered one of the houses belonging to Hari’s sixteen thousand queens. The brāhmaṇa felt as if he had attained divine bliss, his heart overflowing with joy. From afar, Acyuta—Kṛṣṇa himself—sat upon his beloved’s couch. Seeing his friend approach, Kṛṣṇa immediately rose, hurried forward, and embraced the brāhmaṇa with both arms, his face radiant with joy. Delighted by the touch of his dear friend, the sage among the twice-born, the lotus-eyed Lord was so overwhelmed that tears of happiness flowed from his eyes. Kṛṣṇa then seated his friend upon the couch and personally performed the proper honors. He brought water and washed the brāhmaṇa’s feet with his own hands. Reverently, the purifier of the worlds took the water upon his head and anointed his guest with divine fragrances—sandalwood, aguru, and saffron. With fragrant incense and rows of lamps, Kṛṣṇa joyfully worshipped his friend, offered him betel nut, presented a cow, and spoke words of welcome. The goddess herself served the brāhmaṇa, who wore worn, soiled garments and whose emaciated form revealed prominent veins, by fanning him with a yak-tail fan. Witnessing the avadhūta so honored by Kṛṣṇa, the women of the inner chambers were amazed and filled with great affection. They wondered, “What pious act has this avadhūta, this mendicant, performed—he who is destitute of fortune, despised and lowly in this world?” Yet, he was honored by Śrīnivāsa, the teacher of the three worlds, embraced like an elder brother, even as the goddess of fortune herself remained seated on the couch. Kṛṣṇa and the brāhmaṇa began to recount delightful stories from their time together in their preceptor’s house, holding each other’s hands as they spoke. The Blessed Lord asked, “O brāhmaṇa, after you completed your studies in the preceptor’s house and offered the proper fee, did you marry a suitable wife or not, O knower of dharma? I know well, wise one, that your mind is not attached to household life or wealth. You act without desire and do not take pleasure in such things.” Kṛṣṇa continued, “Some act, their minds deluded by desire, abandoning their divine natures, just as I do for the sake of maintaining the world. O brāhmaṇa, do you remember our time living together in the preceptor’s house? For the twice-born, by knowing what is to be known, crosses beyond darkness. Indeed, the preceptor is the very origin here of those devoted to righteous action, born of the twice-born, and the foremost among those in the āśramas, just as I am the giver of knowledge and the teacher. Those skilled in the true meaning, among those who follow varṇa and āśrama, easily cross the ocean of worldly existence by my instruction as their teacher. I, the indwelling soul of all beings, am not satisfied by worship, offspring, austerity, or restraint as I am by service to the teacher.” He reminisced, “O brāhmaṇa, do you remember our conduct while living with the preceptor, when, prompted by the preceptor’s wives, we sometimes went to gather firewood? As we entered the great forest, O twice-born one, a fierce storm arose, with violent winds and harsh thunder. The sun had set, darkness covered all directions, and the low-lying riverbank, now flooded, could not be discerned. We were struck repeatedly by powerful winds and torrents of water, overwhelmed by the flood; unable to tell the directions or see each other in the forest, we wandered about, holding hands, distressed.” “At sunrise, our teacher Sāndīpani, searching for us, saw his students in a wretched state and said, ‘Ah, dear children, you have suffered greatly for my sake; yet, forgoing your own well-being, you have devoted yourselves to me. Indeed, this is what true disciples must do for their teacher: to dedicate all their efforts and very selves to the guru with pure intent. I am pleased, O best of the twice-born; may all your true wishes be fulfilled, and may you master the Vedas and their limbs, here and hereafter.’ In this way, by the guru’s grace alone, a person living in the teacher’s house attains completeness and peace through many such experiences.” The blessed brāhmaṇa replied, “What remains unfulfilled for us, O Lord of gods, teacher of the world, when we have lived in your house, you who are ever true to your word? For him whose body is composed of Vedic sound, O mighty one, dwelling with a teacher is the highest honor among all blessings.” Thus concludes the eightieth chapter, entitled ‘The Story of Śrīdāma,’ in the second half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for supreme renunciants. Śrī Śuka continued: As Hari conversed with the foremost brāhmaṇa, he, who knows the minds of all beings, smiled and spoke to him. Kṛṣṇa, the Lord devoted to the brāhmaṇas, gazed affectionately at his friend, and with a loving smile—such a look is truly the goal of the virtuous—he asked, “O brāhmaṇa, what gift have you brought me from your home? Even a small offering brought by devotees with love becomes great to me; but even a great gift from one without devotion does not please me. Whoever offers me a leaf, a flower, a fruit, or water with devotion, I accept that offering from the pure-hearted devotee.” Though thus addressed, the brāhmaṇa felt embarrassed before the Lord of Śrī. He did not offer the handful of parched rice, remaining silent and ashamed.