As dawn broke, the Brahmin—honored by all and filled with personal happiness—set out joyfully for his own home, accompanied along the way. Though he had received no wealth from Krishna, nor had he asked for any, he returned feeling shy, yet his heart brimmed with fulfillment from the wondrous vision he had beheld. Reflecting on the Lord’s kindness, he marveled, “I have witnessed the devotion of Krishna, the protector of Brahmins. Though I am destitute, Lakshmi herself rests upon his chest. Where am I, so poor and sinful, and where is Krishna, the very abode of fortune? Yet, though I am only a Brahmin in name, he embraced me in his arms.” He remembered being seated on a couch, cherished by Krishna as if they were brothers, and fanned by the Queen herself, who, though weary, served him with a child’s fan. The Lord of gods, the god of Brahmins, honored him with the highest service—massaging his feet—as if he were a deity. He thought, “For all people, the root of happiness—whether in heaven, on earth, or in liberation—is the worship of Krishna’s feet. If I, so poor, were to gain riches, I might become proud and forget the Lord. Out of compassion, he withheld wealth from me.” Thinking thus, he approached his humble dwelling. But as he drew near, he saw, to his astonishment, that his home was surrounded by radiant aerial palaces, shining like the sun, fire, and moon. The grounds were adorned with marvelous groves and gardens, filled with the sweet songs of birds. Ponds bloomed with lotuses, water lilies, and blue lotuses. Men and women, beautifully adorned with gentle, doe-like eyes, graced the place. The Brahmin wondered, “What is this? Whose place is this? How has this come to be?” As he pondered, men and women, shining like immortals, welcomed him with joyous singing and the music of instruments. Hearing of her husband’s arrival, his wife—overwhelmed with joy—hurried out of the house, like Lakshmi herself emerging from her abode. Seeing her beloved, her eyes brimming with love and longing, she closed her eyes and embraced him with reverence in mind and heart. The Brahmin was astonished to see his wife radiant among the maidservants, glowing like a celestial goddess, adorned far more splendidly than those around her. Pleased and united with her, he entered his own palace, which was adorned with hundreds of jeweled pillars and shone like Indra’s mansion. Inside, beds soft as milk foam, decorated with gold, and couches with golden rails and yak-tail fans awaited. Golden seats with soft cushions, canopies hung with pearl garlands, and gleaming coverings adorned the rooms. Crystal walls and emerald floors reflected the light of jeweled lamps, and women adorned with gems graced the halls. Surveying this abundance—riches come to him without cause—the Brahmin reflected calmly on his good fortune. “Surely, this is the result of my association with Krishna, the foremost of the Yadus. Even without asking, a generous king gives to supplicants; like a cloud, he observes and provides. My friend, the chief of the Dasharhas, even accepted from me a mere handful of parched grain, offered with affection.” With a heart full of gratitude, he prayed, “May I have friendship, companionship, and service to Krishna, birth after birth. Through association with that great soul, my attachment is fixed. The Lord grants wondrous prosperity and kingdoms to his devotees, but he does not bestow them on those lacking wisdom, for he knows that wealth can bring pride and downfall.” Thus resolved, the Brahmin, though surrounded by pleasures, enjoyed them without attachment, his mind fixed on Janardana. For Hari, the Lord of sacrifice, regards Brahmins as his origin—there is nothing higher than them. And so, the Brahmin, friend of the Lord, saw how the unconquerable Krishna allowed himself to be defeated by his own servants. With his mind bound in meditation on Krishna, the Brahmin soon attained the Lord’s abode, the path of the virtuous. Whoever hears of Krishna’s devotion to Brahmins and gains devotion to him is freed from the bondage of karma. Thus ends the eighty-first chapter, “The Story of Prithu’s Anger,” in the tenth book, second half, of the great Purana, Srimad Bhagavata, the scripture of the supreme paramahamsas. Shri Shuka continued: Once, while Rama and Krishna were residing in Dvaraka, a great solar eclipse occurred, as happens at the end of an age. Hearing of this, people from all directions journeyed to the sacred field of Samantapanchaka, eager for auspiciousness. Rama, the foremost among warriors, had once rid the earth of kshatriyas, creating lakes with the flood of kings’ blood. There, Bhagavan Rama performed a great sacrifice, though untouched by karma, gathering the people as Lord, just as others do to cleanse themselves of sin. During that pilgrimage, the people of Bharata, the Vrishnis, Akrura, Vasudeva, Ahuka, and many others arrived. The descendants of Bharata—Gada, Pradyumna, Samba, along with Sucandra, Shuka, and Sarana—came to that field, seeking to expiate their sins. Aniruddha stayed behind for protection, as did Krtavarma, the leader. They all shone, riding chariots adorned with divine emblems and swift horses. Their elephants roared like clouds, and they were accompanied by Vidyadharas and celestial beings, all radiant and adorned with golden garlands. Wearing divine garlands, garments, and armor, accompanied by their wives, they appeared like denizens of the heavens. After bathing, the fortunate ones fasted and composed themselves fully. They gave cows, garments, garlands, and gold ornaments to the Brahmins. Then, in the lakes of Rama, the Vrishnis bathed again, following the prescribed rites.