I was seated comfortably on a couch, cherished by my dearest friend as if we were brothers, while the queen herself, though weary, gently fanned me with her own hand, using a child's fan. With the utmost care, she attended to me, and the Lord of the gods—he who is the god of the Brahmins—honored me as one would honor a god, even going so far as to massage my feet. Truly, I was treated with the highest devotion. For all beings, the root of happiness—whether in heaven, in liberation, or in the attainment of wealth and perfection on earth—is found in the worship of His feet. Yet, I reflected that if I, a poor man, were suddenly to gain wealth, I might become intoxicated with pride and forget the Lord. Out of compassion, therefore, He did not grant me abundant riches. Thinking this way, I made my way home. To my astonishment, my humble dwelling was surrounded on all sides by radiant aerial mansions, shining like the sun, fire, and moon. My home was now adorned with wonderful groves and gardens, filled with the sweet songs of birds. The ponds overflowed with blossoming lotuses, water lilies, and blue lotuses. Men and women, beautifully adorned and with eyes as gentle as those of deer, graced the grounds. I wondered in amazement, "What is this? Whose place is this? How has this come to be?" As I pondered, radiant men and women, shining like immortals, came forth to welcome me with joyful music and singing. Hearing that her husband had arrived, my wife, overwhelmed with joy and excitement, hurried out of the house, appearing like Lakshmi herself emerging from her abode. When she saw me, her eyes brimmed with love and longing; she closed her eyes and embraced me with deep reverence and affection. In my astonishment, I beheld my wife shining among her maidservants, radiant like a celestial goddess, standing out among those who wore no necklaces. Pleased and reunited, I entered my palace, which was now adorned with hundreds of jeweled pillars, resembling the mansion of Indra himself. Within, there were beds as soft as milk foam, decorated with gold, couches with golden rails, and yak-tail fans. Golden seats with soft cushions, canopies hung with pearl garlands, and shining coverings graced the rooms. The walls of crystal and great emerald surfaces sparkled with jeweled lamps, and women adorned with gems were present. Beholding this abundance of riches, I calmly reflected on the prosperity that had come to me unasked, without any apparent cause. Surely, I thought, this must be due to the grace of my friend, the foremost of the Yadus, for I have always been poor and unfortunate. Even without asking, the generous king gives abundantly to those who request, just as a cloud observes and provides rain. Though he is a great giver, he accepted from me only a handful of parched grain, offered with affection. May I have friendship, companionship, and service to him, birth after birth. Through association with that great soul, the very abode of virtue, my heart is firmly attached. For the devoted, the Lord indeed grants wondrous prosperity and kingdoms, but the unborn one does not bestow these upon those lacking discernment, for He knows Himself to be the downfall and pride of the wealthy. Thus resolved in my mind, though surrounded by pleasures, I enjoyed them without undue attachment, remaining devoted to Janardana. For Hari, the Lord of sacrifice and god of gods, holds the Brahmins as His origin; nothing is higher than them. Thus, as a friend of the Lord, seeing the unconquered one conquered by His own servants, my mind bound in meditation upon Him, I soon attained His abode—the path of the virtuous. Whoever hears this story of the Lord's devotion to the Brahmins and gains devotion to Him is freed from the bondage of karma. Thus ends the eighty-first chapter, named "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 a kalpa. Hearing of this, people from all sides journeyed to the sacred field of Samantapanchaka, seeking auspiciousness. Rama, the foremost among wielders of weapons, had made the earth devoid of kshatriyas, creating great lakes filled with the blood of kings. There, Bhagavan Rama performed a sacrifice, though untouched by karma, gathering the people as the Lord does, just as others perform sacrifice to remove sin. During this great pilgrimage, the people of Bharata, the Vrishnis, Akrura, Vasudeva, Ahuka, and others arrived. Descendants of Bharata—Gada, Pradyumna, Samba, Sucandra, Shuka, Sarana, and others—also came, wishing to expiate their sins. Aniruddha remained for protection, and Krtavarma too; they shone, riding chariots adorned with divine emblems and swift horses. With elephants roaring like clouds, men accompanied by Vidyadharas and celestial beings, all of great brilliance and adorned with golden garlands, shone along the road. Wearing divine garlands, garments, and armor, and accompanied by their wives, they appeared like those who move in the sky. After bathing, the highly fortunate ones fasted, remaining composed. They gave cows, garments, garlands, and gold ornaments to the brahmins. Then, in the lakes of Rama, the Vrishnis bathed again according to the prescribed rites. They offered their own food to the foremost twice-born, praying, "May we have devotion to Krishna." With permission, the Vrishnis, devoted to Krishna, then partook themselves. Having eaten, they sat as they pleased beneath gentle, shady trees. There, they saw the assembled kings who had arrived—friends and relatives from many lands: the Matsyas, Shinas, Kaushalyas, Vidarbhas, Kurus, Sringayas, Kambojas, Kaikeyas, Madras, Kuntis, Anartas, and Keralas. There were also hundreds of others—both allies and rivals—as well as Nanda and other friends, cowherds, and gopis who had long yearned for this meeting.