Krishna and Balarama, filled with deep emotion, embraced their parents and bowed before them. Yet, so overcome were they with tears of love that not a word could pass their lips, O best of the Kurus. Yashoda and her husband, Nanda, seated their beloved sons on their own seat and embraced them with both arms. In that moment, all their sorrows and longing for Krishna and Balarama melted away. Nearby, Rohini and Devaki approached Yashoda, the queen of Vraja. Remembering the unwavering friendship Yashoda had shown them, their throats tightened with tears as they spoke: “O Queen of Vraja, who could ever forget your steadfast friendship? Even if one were to gain and relinquish the sovereignty of Indra, there would be no way to truly repay you in this world. We have seen how your parents delighted in you, prospered, nourished, and protected you, thus fulfilling their duty. Just as eyelashes protect the eyes, so too are the virtuous ever protected—heaven is not their ultimate goal.” Meanwhile, the gopīs, having finally beheld their beloved Krishna after so long, inwardly cursed their own eyelashes for even the briefest obstruction of their vision. They embraced him with their eyes, drawing him deep into their hearts, and attained a state of devotion so rare that even those always united with him seldom achieve it. Krishna, approaching the gopīs in solitude, embraced them, inquired after their well-being, and, smiling gently, spoke: “Do you remember our friendship? How, intent on fulfilling our purposes, we departed for so long, our minds absorbed in destroying the enemy’s forces? Did you perhaps feel resentment, suspecting us of ingratitude? Truly, it is the Lord who unites and separates all beings. Just as the wind gathers and scatters clouds, grass, cotton, and dust, so too does the Creator unite and disperse all creatures. “Devotion to me leads to immortality. By great fortune, your affection for me has arisen, dispelling all obstacles. I am indeed the beginning, the end, and the inner and outer essence of all beings, just as space, water, earth, air, and light are to the elements. Thus, these beings exist within beings, through the Self and the Supreme Self. Both are seen in me and in the transcendent by those who perceive the imperishable.” Thus instructed by Krishna in spiritual truth, the gopīs, their vital energies dissolved in remembrance of him, transcended their sense of individuality. They prayed: “May the lotus-footed Lord, whose feet are contemplated in the heart by yogic masters endowed with wisdom, and who is the support for deliverance from the well of worldly existence, always arise in our minds, even as we dwell in our homes.” So ended the eighty-second chapter, “The Meeting of the Vṛṣṇis and Gopas,” in the tenth book, second half, of the glorious Bhāgavata Purāṇa, the scripture of the supreme paramahaṃsa. Then, Śuka continued: Having thus blessed the gopīs, the Lord—teacher and refuge of all—asked after Yudhiṣṭhira and his steadfast friends. Those who were thus questioned by the Lord of the worlds, and honored by him, replied with joyful hearts, their sins washed away by the sight of his feet. They said, “How could anything inauspicious arise from the nectar of your lotus feet, O great one, which sometimes flows from your mouth? Those who drink it with the cups of their ears find it sufficient to sever the bondage of embodied existence and the forgetfulness caused by the body. “Having abandoned the threefold states of self, purified of all actions, we have attained uninterrupted bliss and unimpeded knowledge. Through yoga, established by the scriptures and time, we have bowed to your form, the supreme path of the paramahaṃsa, though fashioned by māyā.” Śuka then described how the wives of the Andhaka and Kaurava clans gathered and praised Krishna, the crown-jewel among those of noble fame. Meeting together, they sang Govinda’s stories to each other, celebrated throughout the three worlds. Śrī Draupadī addressed the wives of Krishna: “O Vaidarbhī, O Bhadrā, O Jāmbavatī, O Kauśalā, O Satyabhāmā, O Kālindī, O Śaibyā, O Rohiṇī, O Lakṣmaṇā—dear wives of Krishna, please tell us: how did the Lord Himself marry you, imitating worldly customs by His own divine power?” Śrī Rukmiṇī replied: “When warriors with drawn bows tried to offer me to the king of Cedi, Krishna, the dust of whose feet crowned the king’s soldiers, carried me away like a lion seizing his share from a herd of goats. May I ever worship the feet of that Lord, the abode of Śrī.” Śrī Satyabhāmā said: “To wipe away the curse that fell upon me from my co-wife, Krishna defeated the king of the earth and brought the jewel, frightening my father and others. Even though I was given to another, He took me for Himself.” Śrī Jāmbavatī spoke: “Knowing Him to be the maker of bodies and my destined Lord, the husband of Sītā fought with my father for twenty-one days. Recognizing Him as tested and true, my father offered me to Him, and with the jewel in hand, I became His servant.” Śrī Kālindī shared: “Desiring to touch His feet, I performed austerities. Krishna approached me as a friend, took my hand, and I became the sweeper of His house.” Śrī Mitravindā said: “He came to my svayaṃvara, defeated the assembled kings, and carried me away like an elephant claiming his mate. He drove away my brothers and brought me to His own city, the abode of fortune. May I always serve His feet.” Śrī Satyā recounted: “To test the strength and valor of the kings, my father set seven fierce, sharp-horned bulls. Krishna, the destroyer of the pride of heroes, subdued them with ease and bound them as a child binds young calves. Thus He won me, given as the price of valor, along with my maidservants and army, by defeating the kings on the road. May I become His servant.” Śrī Bhadrā said: “My father, inviting my maternal uncle, gave me to Krishna, the dark one, whose mind was set on Him, along with an army and companions. May I have the touch of His feet in every birth, for by that, one wandering in the cycle of karma attains the highest good for the soul.” Śrī Lakṣmaṇā told her story: “Hearing again and again from Nārada the stories of Krishna’s birth and deeds, my mind was drawn to Mukunda, the lotus-handed one, to the exclusion even of the guardians of the world. Knowing my mind, my father, affectionate Bṛhatsena, devised a means for my marriage. As in the svayaṃvara of the princess, a fish was set up for the sake of the Pāṇḍava’s desire; so here, one was concealed outside but could be seen in the water below. Hearing of this, kings from all sides, skilled in weapons and missiles, came by the thousands with their teachers to my father’s city. All were honored by my father according to their strength and age; those who wished to win me took up bows and arrows to shoot in the assembly. Some, taking up the bow, tried to string it but could not; some, drawing the bowstring to their chest, fell, struck by it. Other heroes—like the kings of Magadha, Ambashṭha, and Cedi, as well as Bhīma, Duryodhana, and Karṇa—managed to string the bow but did not understand the true challenge. Seeing the image of a fish in the water and discerning its position, Arjuna carefully released his arrow; it did not cut, but merely touched the target.” Thus the stories of Krishna’s marriages and the deep devotion of his loved ones were recounted, each tale echoing the glory of the Lord and the blessedness of those who remembered and served him.