The root of all happiness—be it in heaven, in liberation, in earthly wealth, or in perfection—lies in the worship of the Lord’s feet. Such was the understanding of the humble Brahmin, who reflected deeply on his own condition. He thought, “If I were to gain wealth, perhaps I would become proud and forget the Lord. Out of compassion, He has not granted me riches.” With this thought, he returned to his modest dwelling. But as he approached, he found his home transformed. Surrounding it were aerial palaces that shone like the sun, fire, and moon. Wondrous groves and gardens adorned the grounds, filled with the sweet songs of flocks of birds. The ponds bloomed with lotuses, water lilies, and blue lotuses. Beautiful men and women with gentle, doe-like eyes, adorned in finery, graced the place. Amazed, the Brahmin wondered, “What is this? Whose residence has this become? How did this come to be?” As he pondered, radiant men and women, shining like immortals, welcomed him with joyous singing and instrumental music. His wife, hearing of his arrival, was overwhelmed with joy. She rushed out of the house, her beauty and grace resembling Lakshmi herself emerging from her abode. With eyes brimming with love and longing, she closed her eyes and embraced her husband with a heart full of reverence. The Brahmin, astonished, beheld his wife glowing among the maidservants, radiant like a celestial goddess among those without necklaces. United with her, he entered his own palace, now adorned with hundreds of jeweled pillars, resembling the mansion of Indra. Beds soft as milk foam, decorated with gold, couches with golden rails, and yak-tail fans awaited them. Golden seats with soft cushions, canopies hung with pearl garlands, and shining coverings filled the rooms. Crystal walls and great emerald surfaces reflected the light of jeweled lamps, while women adorned with gems moved gracefully about. Seeing this abundance of riches, the Brahmin calmly reflected on his unexpected prosperity. He thought, “Surely this is the cause of my good fortune. I, always poor and unfortunate, could not have gained such wealth by any other means. The generous king of the Yadus gives abundantly, even without being asked, like a raincloud that observes and provides. Though he is a great giver, he accepted from me only a handful of parched grain, offered with affection. May I have the blessing of friendship, companionship, and service to him, birth after birth. Through association with that great soul, my devotion is fixed.” He understood that for the devoted, the Lord grants wondrous prosperity and kingdoms, but for those lacking discernment, the Lord withholds such gifts, knowing that pride and downfall follow the wealthy who are not wise. Thus resolved, the Brahmin, though surrounded by pleasures, enjoyed them without attachment, his heart always devoted to Janardana. For that Lord of sacrifice, Hari, the god of gods, the Brahmins are the very origin; nothing is higher than them. Thus, the Brahmin, friend of the Lord, saw how even the unconquerable Lord is bound by the love of His devotees. Absorbed in meditation on Him, the Brahmin soon attained the Lord’s abode, the path of the virtuous. Whoever hears this story of the Lord’s devotion to the Brahmins, and develops 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 resided in Dvaraka, a great solar eclipse occurred, as happens at the end of a kalpa. Hearing of this, people from all directions journeyed to the field of Samantapanchaka, seeking auspiciousness. Rama, the foremost among wielders of weapons, had once made the earth devoid of kshatriyas, creating great lakes with the blood of kings. There, Bhagavan Rama performed sacrifice, though untouched by karma, gathering the people as Lord, just as others do to remove sin. During that great pilgrimage, the people of Bharata, the Vrishnis, Akrura, Vasudeva, Ahuka, and many others arrived. The descendants of Bharata—Gada, Pradyumna, Samba, Sucandra, Shuka, Sarana, and more—came to expiate their sins. Aniruddha remained for protection, and Krtavarma, the leader, also attended. They shone, riding chariots adorned with divine emblems and swift horses. Elephants, roaring like clouds, moved among men accompanied by Vidyadharas and celestial beings, all brilliant and adorned with golden garlands. Wearing divine garlands, garments, and armor, with their wives beside them, they appeared like those who move in the sky. After bathing, the fortunate ones fasted, remaining composed. They gave cows, garments, garlands, and gold ornaments to the Brahmins, then bathed again in the lakes of Rama 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, themselves ate. Afterwards, they sat as they pleased, beneath gentle, shady trees, and there they saw the kings who had gathered—their friends and relatives. They beheld the Matsyas, Shinas, Kaushalyas, Vidarbhas, Kurus, Sringayas, Kambojas, Kaikeyas, Madras, Kuntis, Anartas, and Keralas—hundreds of others, both allies and rivals. Nanda and other friends, cowherds, and gopis who had long yearned were also present. With the intense joy of reunion, their hearts and faces bloomed like lotuses. They embraced tightly, tears flowing, skin thrilled, voices choked with emotion—they attained true happiness. The women, seeing each other with deep affection, smiled with pure glances and embraced, pressing their breasts smeared with kumkum against each other, their eyes filled with tears of love.