As the fierce battle raged, volleys of arrows shot from the mighty Śārṅga bow struck down the enemy. Arms, legs, and necks were severed in the onslaught—some warriors fell on the field, while others, abandoning all hope, turned and fled in terror. Victorious, the Lord of the Yadus entered his city. The streets were splendidly adorned: banners shaded from the sun fluttered overhead, and the gateways were painted with bright colors. This city, celebrated in both heaven and on earth, shone like a stately ship returning safely to its home harbor. Upon his arrival, my father honored his friends, relatives, and kin with the finest gifts—precious garments, glittering ornaments, soft beds, comfortable seats, and many other treasures. With devotion, he presented maidservants, abundant wealth, soldiers, chariots, and noble horses, even bestowing valuable weapons to those he cherished. We, the maidservants of his household, attained this position through the power of true austerity and complete detachment, finding ourselves in service to him who is ever self-satisfied. The queens spoke among themselves, recalling how, after slaying Bhauma and his followers in battle, Krishna had freed them—the princesses who had been conquered and imprisoned. Remembering his lotus feet, the fulfiller of all desires, he accepted them in marriage, granting them liberation from worldly bondage. “We do not desire sovereignty, lordship, rulership, or even the supreme station of Brahmā, nor the endless abode of Hari,” they said. “All we wish is to bear upon our heads the dust of his glorious feet, fragrant with the scent of his consort’s breast-unguent—he who wields the mace. The cowherd women of Vraja, the Pulinda women, the grasses and herbs, the cows, and the cowherd boys—all long for the touch of those feet as he tends the cows, for he is the greatest soul.” At this time, Śuka narrates, Kuntī, Subhadrā, Draupadī, Mādhavī, the royal wives, and their own gopīs heard of the deep affection Krishna, the Supreme Soul, bore for them. Amazed, their eyes brimmed with tears of wonder and devotion. As the women spoke among themselves and the men conversed, a host of sages arrived, eager to see Krishna and Balarāma. Among them were Vyāsa, Nārada, Cyavana, Devala, Asita, Viśvāmitra, Śatānanda, Bharadvāja, and Gautama; also came Rāma with his disciples, the venerable Vasiṣṭha, Gālava, Bhṛgu, Pulastya, Kaśyapa, Atri, Mārkaṇḍeya, and Bṛhaspati. Dvitas, Trita, Ekata—the sons of Brahmā—Aṅgirā, Agastya, Yājñavalkya, Vāmadeva, and many others joined them. Seeing these revered sages, the kings who had been seated, along with the Pāṇḍavas, Krishna, and Balarāma, immediately rose and bowed in respect to those honored by the world. They all worshipped the sages as was proper. Rāma and Acyuta welcomed them warmly, offering seats, water for washing feet, garlands, incense, ointments, and words of greeting. When the sages were comfortably seated, the Lord, embodiment of righteousness, addressed them. The entire assembly listened in deep silence as he spoke with measured words: “Ah, we who are born into this world have attained the highest fruit, difficult even for the gods to obtain—the sight of the masters of yoga. What then of ordinary men, of little austerity, who, in worshipping the gods—the eyes of the world—gain the rare chance to see, touch, question, and bow to the feet of such holy beings? Sacred waters and images of gods in clay and stone do not purify as the holy ones do, for even a brief moment of their sight brings purification. Fire, sun, moon, stars, earth, water, sky, wind, speech, or mind—though worshipped—do not remove sin; but the wise, by serving the enlightened even for a moment, destroy it. One who identifies with the body, regards wife and kin as his own, worships earth as sacred, and sees holy places as mere water, but does not seek out the wise—he is no better than a cow or a donkey.” Śuka continues: Hearing these profound words of Krishna, whose wisdom is unfathomable, the sages sat in silence, their minds perplexed by the depth of his speech. After long deliberation, they smiled at the Lord of the universe and spoke, recognizing that his sovereignty was for gathering people together. They said: “By your māyā, O highest knower of truth, even we—lords among the creators of the world—are bewildered; your mastery is hidden by your own mysterious power. How wondrous are the Lord’s actions! Though without desire, you create, maintain, and withdraw the world in many ways, yet are not bound—just as the earth, though appearing in many forms and names, remains unchanged. How marvelous and mysterious are your acts! Yet, at the proper time, for the protection of your people and for the subjugation of the wicked, you assume the mode of goodness. By your own play, you uphold the eternal path of the Veda, O Supreme Person, soul of the varṇāśrama order. Your heart is pure, attained through austerity, study, and self-restraint; in it is realized that which is manifest, unmanifest, and beyond both. Therefore, O Brahman, you honor the community of Brahmins, the very source of the scriptures and of yourself; thus you become foremost among those devoted to Brahman. Today, our birth, our learning, our austerity, and our vision have borne fruit, for by meeting you—the highest goal—we have attained the supreme good. Obeisance to that Lord Kṛṣṇa, whose intellect is unfailing, whose greatness is concealed by his own yogamāyā, and who is the Supreme Soul. He whom these kings and even the Vṛṣṇis, who delight in him alone, do not know—he is the Lord of time and the Self, hidden by the curtain of māyā. Just as a man lying asleep, though perceiving the elements and qualities, does not know his own true self, which is distinct from mere names and sense-objects, so too, by the delusion of māyā, the mind bewildered by attachment to names, objects, and senses, does not know you, due to the disturbance of memory. Today, we have seen your feet, which remove the mass of sins, which are the very abode of holy places, established in the heart by those whose yoga is fully matured. O Lord, whose devotees, their inner coverings pierced by overflowing devotion, attain your path—please grant them your grace.” Śuka narrates that, after taking leave of Kṛṣṇa, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, and Yudhiṣṭhira, the royal sage, the great sages set their minds on returning to their hermitages. Seeing them depart, the illustrious Vasudeva approached, bowed, honored them, and spoke with careful words: “O sages, I bow to you, who are all the gods. Please tell us how, by action, the bondage of action may be destroyed.” Śrī Nārada replied: “O Brāhmaṇas, it is not surprising that Vasudeva, out of eagerness to know, asks us about the highest good for himself, considering Kṛṣṇa as his own child. Here, among mortals, close association leads to disregard, just as one, leaving the sacred Ganges, seeks other water for purification.” Thus unfolded the sacred gathering, where the highest truths were spoken, and the hearts of all present were deeply moved by the presence and wisdom of the Lord.