Lord Kṛṣṇa, standing before the assembled gopīs, spoke words of profound spiritual truth. “Devotion to me among all beings is the path to immortality,” he said. “By great fortune, your deep affection for me has arisen, sweeping away every obstacle. Know that I am the beginning and the end, the inner and outer essence of all beings—just as space, water, earth, air, and light are the foundation of all material things.” He continued, “Thus, all beings exist within beings, through the Self and the Supreme Self. Those who truly perceive the imperishable see both the individual and the transcendent in me, and in the highest reality.” Hearing these instructions, Śuka said, the gopīs were filled with spiritual knowledge. Their hearts, overwhelmed by remembrance of Kṛṣṇa, transcended all sense of separate identity. With deep longing, they prayed, “May the lotus-footed Lord—whose feet are contemplated in the hearts of the greatest yogis, who is the support for deliverance from the well of worldly existence—always arise in our minds, even as we dwell in our homes.” Thus concludes the eighty-second chapter, “The Meeting of the Vṛṣṇis and Gopas,” in the tenth book of the glorious Bhāgavata Purāṇa, the scripture of the supreme paramahaṃsa. Then, Śuka continued, after blessing the gopīs, the Lord—their teacher and ultimate refuge—turned to inquire after Yudhiṣṭhira and all his steadfast friends. Those who were thus addressed by the Lord of the worlds, having been honored by his presence, replied with joyful hearts, their sins washed away by the very sight of his feet. They said, “O great one, how could anything inauspicious arise from the nectar of your lotus feet, which sometimes flows from your mouth as divine teachings? Those who drink this nectar with the cups of their ears, O Lord, find it enough to sever the bondage of worldly existence and the forgetfulness caused by embodiment. Having abandoned the threefold states of self, purified of all actions, we have attained uninterrupted bliss and unimpeded knowledge. Through yoga, established by scripture and time, we bow to your form—the supreme path of the paramahaṃsa—even though it is fashioned by your own māyā.” The sage continued: Thus, the wives of the Andhaka and Kaurava clans, having gathered together, praised the crown-jewel of noble fame among people. Meeting with one another, they sang the stories of Govinda, celebrated throughout the three worlds. Listen, I shall describe them to you. Śrī Draupadī spoke first: “O Vaidarbhī, O Bhadrā, O Jāmbavatī, O Kauśalā, O Satyabhāmā, O Kālindī, O Śaibyā, O Rohiṇī, O Lakṣmaṇā—O wives of Kṛṣṇa, 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, the dust from whose feet crowned the heads of the king’s soldiers, the Lord carried me away like a lion seizing his share from a herd of goats. May the feet of that Lord, the abode of Śrī, be ever worshipped by me.” Śrī Satyabhāmā said, “To wipe away a curse cast upon me by my co-wife, he defeated the king of the earth and brought the precious jewel, frightening my father and others. Even though I was promised to another, he took me for himself.” Śrī Jāmbavatī spoke, “Knowing him as the maker of bodies and my destined Lord, the husband of Sītā fought with my father for twenty-one days. Realizing his true nature, my father offered me to him, and grasping his feet with the jewel, I became his servant.” Śrī Kālindī added, “Knowing I was performing austerities with the desire to touch his feet, he approached me as a friend, took my hand, and I became the humble sweeper of his house.” Śrī Mitravindā said, “He came to my svayaṃvara, defeated the assembled kings, and carried me away like an elephant seizing his mate from a herd. 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, “My father, to test the strength and valor of the kings, had seven fierce, sharp-horned bulls. The Lord, destroyer of the pride of heroes, subdued them effortlessly 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 Kṛṣṇa, 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.” Śrī Lakṣmaṇā then told her story: “Hearing again and again from Nārada the stories of the king’s birth and deeds, my mind was drawn irresistibly to Mukunda, the lotus-handed one, forsaking even the guardians of the world. Knowing my heart, my father, the affectionate Bṛhatsena, devised a test for my marriage. As in the svayaṃvara of the princess Draupadī, a fish was set as the target, concealed above but visible only as a reflection in the water below. “Kings from all directions, skilled in weapons and missiles, came by the thousands with their teachers to my father’s city. All were honored according to their strength and age, and those who wished to win me took up bows and arrows to shoot at the target in the assembly. Some tried to string the bow but failed; some, drawing the bowstring to their chest, were struck and fell. 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. “Arjuna, seeing the image of the fish in the water and understanding its position, carefully released his arrow; it touched but did not pierce the target. When the kings had withdrawn, their pride broken, the Lord himself took up the bow and strung it effortlessly. Aiming at the target, seeing the fish just once in the water, he cut it down with his arrow, making it fall, while the sun stood in the Abhijit constellation. “Then I entered the arena, my anklets tinkling softly, holding a radiant golden garland of gems in my hands, dressed in new silk, my face adorned with a bashful smile and a floral wreath in my hair. Lifting my face, with shining earrings and glowing cheeks, casting gentle, smiling glances, I looked around at the kings and, with a heart devoted to Murāri, placed my garland on his shoulder. “In that moment, drums, kettledrums, conches, trumpets, and other instruments resounded, dancers danced, and singers sang. When the Lord, master of Māyā, was thus chosen by me, the assembled chiefs of men, burning with desire, could not tolerate my choice and competed with each other. The Lord placed me on his chariot, yoked with four excellent horses, took up the Śārṅga bow, donned his armor, and stood ready for battle with four arms. “Dāruka drove the chariot, adorned with golden fittings, as the kings watched—just as the king of beasts carries off his prey before the other animals. Some of the kings pursued us, armed and with drawn bows, like village lions chasing Hari. Struck by volleys of arrows from the Śārṅga bow, their arms, legs, and necks severed, some fell in battle, while others, abandoning the fight, fled.” In this way, the noble queens recounted the divine and heroic deeds of Kṛṣṇa, each story echoing their devotion and the Lord’s supreme grace.