The women of Dvārakā, their hearts aching with longing, gazed upon the world around them and found in every part of nature the reflection of their own sorrow. By the riverside, they addressed the earth itself, lamenting, “O you who groan by the waters, sleepless and awake through the night—has Mukunda, the Lord, taken away the very mark of your soul? Is this why you, too, endure such suffering, so hard to bear?” They looked up to the moon, pale and waning, and spoke: “O Moon, you seem stricken, your light diminished, unable to drive away the darkness. Like us, you falter in your speech, bewildered and silent—have you, too, forgotten him, so that you remain unnoticed?” To the wind from the Malaya mountains they cried, “O wind, have we offended you? For your gentle touch, pierced by the memory of Govinda’s sidelong glances, only stirs the pain of longing deeper in our hearts.” Their eyes turned to the clouds, heavy and weeping, and they said, “O splendid cloud, you must be dear to the chief of the Yadus, for you are bound by love as we are, always meditating on him who bears the Śrīvatsa mark. Overwhelmed by longing, your heart agitated, you pour forth tears again and again, remembering him—such is the pain of his association.” Hearing the sweet call of the cuckoo, they spoke tenderly, “O cuckoo, with your trembling throat, your song revives the lifeless. Tell us, dear one, what can we do for you today? Speak, for it seems you call out the beloved’s name.” They addressed the silent mountain, saying, “O mountain, wise and still, you neither move nor speak, lost in contemplation. Surely, like us, you long to embrace the feet of Vasudeva’s son, to hold him to your breast.” Even the lakes, once beautiful, now seemed bereft. “Alas,” they mourned, “the wives of the ocean, their waters dried and lotuses withered, have lost their beauty, deprived of their beloved. Just as we, tormented and longing, suffer without the loving glance of the Lord of the bees.” A swan approached, and they welcomed it with hope: “O swan, come, drink this water and rest. Tell us, dear one, do you bring news of Śauri? Are you his messenger? Is the unconquered one well, as he promised? Or has his affection for us faded? Why should we serve him if he forgets us? Speak sweetly, for apart from his grace, there is no other refuge for women.” Śuka, the sage, then explained: In this way, filled with such deep feelings for Kṛṣṇa, the Lord of yogis, the women of Mādhava attained the highest spiritual state. For Kṛṣṇa’s fame, sung in great songs, attracts the hearts of women even when merely heard—how much more so for those who beheld him directly? Those who, out of love, served the Lord of the universe as their husband—massaging his feet and performing other acts of devotion—what penance could they have performed to deserve such fortune? By living according to the dharma taught in the Vedas, Kṛṣṇa showed householders the righteous path, demonstrating the ideals of dharma, artha, and kāma within the home. To establish the highest dharma among householders, Kṛṣṇa had sixteen thousand and more than a hundred queens. Of these, the foremost eight, led by Rukmiṇī, were the chief jewels among women, and their sons are listed in order. From each of his wives, Kṛṣṇa, the unfailing Lord, begot ten sons. Among these sons, all of great valor, there were eighteen renowned chariot-warriors. Their names were Pradyumna, Aniruddha, Dīptimān, Bhānu, Sāmba, Madhu, Bṛhadbhānu, Citrabhānu, Vṛka, Aruṇa, Puṣkara, Vedabāhu, Śrutadeva, Sunandana, Citrabāhu, Virūpa, Kavi, and Nyagrodha. Of all these sons, Pradyumna, the son of Rukmiṇī, was the foremost, just like his father. This mighty warrior married the daughter of Rukmi, and from their union Aniruddha was born, endowed with the strength of a thousand elephants. Aniruddha, in turn, married the granddaughter of Rukmi, and from her came Vajra, who survived the destruction of the Yadus. From Vajra came Pratibahu, from Pratibahu, Subahu; from Subahu, Shantasena; and from him, Shatasena. In this lineage, none were born poor, childless, short-lived, weak, or lacking devotion to the Brahmanas. O King, even in ten thousand years, one could not count all the men born in the Yadu dynasty, whose deeds are celebrated. It is said there were three crore eighty-eight thousand princes in the Yadu dynasty, all taught by family teachers. Who could count the Yadavas, those great souls, among whom even Ahuka was surrounded by a hundred thousand tens of thousands? Those fierce Daityas, slain in ancient battles between gods and demons, were reborn among humans and, filled with pride, oppressed the people. To subdue them, the gods were instructed by Hari to descend into the Yadu dynasty, appearing in a hundred and one families. Among them, Lord Hari himself set the measure of greatness by his sovereignty, and all the Yadavas who followed him flourished. Absorbed in Krishna, the Vrishnis, whether in bed, seated, walking, conversing, playing, bathing, or in any other activity, did not perceive their own separate selves. When Krishna was born among the Yadus, the earth became holy; the river of heaven was purified by washing his feet; both those who hated and those who loved him attained their true forms, conquered by the unconquerable; and his auspicious name, when heard or spoken, sanctified the lineage. Is it any wonder, then, that Krishna, wielder of the wheel of time, removed the burden of the earth? Victory to him who is the abode of all beings, whose birth from Devaki is celebrated, who, surrounded by the best of the Yadus, destroyed unrighteousness with his own arms; who removes the suffering of all creatures with his radiant, smiling face, and who increased the god of love in the hearts of the women of Vraja and the city. Thus, may the deeds of the foremost Yadu—whose playful form enacted such fitting pastimes to protect his own path, and whose actions destroy the bonds of karma—be heard by all who wish to follow in his footsteps. By hearing, chanting, or contemplating the glorious stories of Mukunda, even a mortal, through such devotion, attains his supreme abode, which is beyond the swift reach of death. For his sake, even kings abandoned their homes for the forest. In this way concludes the ninetieth chapter, “The Description of the Deeds of Śrī Kṛṣṇa,” of the tenth canto, second half, of the great Purāṇa, Śrīmad Bhāgavata, the scripture for the paramahamsas.