I was born in Drāviḍa, and my childhood unfolded in the land of Karṇāṭaka. As the years passed, I spent time in parts of Mahārāṣṭra and Gurjara, where I gradually grew old. Yet, in those regions, the dreadful influence of Kali began to spread. Heretics attacked me, sapping my strength, and for a long while, I remained weak and feeble, along with my two sons. Eventually, I made my way back to Vṛndāvana. There, a transformation took place: I became youthful and beautiful once more, blossoming into a young woman in her prime, radiant with the best of forms. But even in this blessed state, I looked upon my two sons and saw them lying exhausted, worn out by fatigue. It pained me to see them so, and I resolved to leave that place for another land. My sons had become old, and this sorrow weighed heavily on my heart. Though I myself was young, why were my sons so aged? How had this strange reversal come to pass? Throughout our lives, the three of us had always been together. Was it not natural for the mother to grow old and the sons to remain young? Yet, here I was, youthful, while my sons had withered. My mind was filled with grief and wonder at this mystery. O treasure of yoga, O wise one, I pleaded—tell me, what could be the cause of this? Nārada, the sage, replied to me: “By knowledge, O sinless one, I perceive all this within the Self. Do not be despondent, for Hari will surely bring you auspiciousness.” As soon as his words reached me, the great sage spoke further. Nārada said, “Listen carefully, child. This age of Kali and the decline of yoga have caused the disappearance of good conduct, the path of yoga, and austerities. People have become like Aghāsura, engaging in deceit and wicked deeds. The virtuous are distressed while the unrighteous rejoice. Yet, the wise who remain steadfast and courageous are truly learned. “Seeing these untouchables, the earth has become a burden-bearer. Year by year, gradually, all auspiciousness vanishes. Now, no one even sees you together with your sons; you are neglected by those blinded by attachment and have been reduced to a state of decrepitude. “But by coming to Vṛndāvana, you regained your youth and freshness. Blessed indeed is Vṛndāvana, where devotion itself dances. Yet, here, because there are none left to receive them, even old age will not leave your two sons. With a little self-contentment, they consider themselves at rest.” At this, I asked, “How was impure Kali established by King Parīkṣit? With the onset of Kali, where did the essence of all virtue go? Even by the compassionate Hari, how is unrighteousness witnessed? Please, remove this doubt of mine with your words, so that I may find peace.” Nārada replied, “Since you have asked, child, listen with affection. I will tell you everything, and your confusion will depart. When Mukunda, the Lord, left the earth and returned to His own abode, from that day Kali entered, obstructing all means of virtue. Parīkṣit, during his conquest of the directions, saw Kali and, though Kali was miserable and sought refuge, the king did not kill him—just as a bee is spared by the honey-gatherer. “The result not attained by austerity, yoga, or meditation is fully obtained in Kali by the praise of Keśava. Seeing Kali as uniform, devoid of essence and substance, Viṣṇurāta established him for the happiness of those born in Kali. Because of evil deeds, the true essence has departed from everywhere; what remains on earth are objects like husks without seed. “The brāhmaṇas spread the Bhāgavata teaching in every home and to every person, but greed for a fee has caused the essence of the stories to vanish. Even those who perform terrible and abundant deeds, the atheistic and hellish, remain at holy places, but the true essence of the holy places has departed. Those whose minds are agitated by desire, anger, greed, and thirst still engage in austerity, but the essence of austerity is lost. “Because of the defeat of the mind, greed, hypocrisy, and resorting to heresy, and even from the mere study of scriptures, the fruit of meditation and yoga is lost. The learned delight with their wives like buffaloes, skillful in producing sons but unskilled in attaining liberation. Nowhere is true Vaiṣṇavism found, even among the leaders of the traditions—thus, the true essence of reality has perished everywhere. “But this is the nature of the age; who can be blamed? Therefore, the Lotus-eyed Lord endures, standing nearby.” Sūta then said: Upon hearing these words, all those present were filled with great wonder. Bhakti spoke again, “Let this also be heard, O Śaunaka.” Bhakti said, “O sage among the gods, you are truly blessed, for you have come here by my good fortune. The sight of the virtuous in this world bestows all perfections. Victory, victory to Him whose body is the basis of illusion, who, by a single utterance, creates all speech! By His grace, Dhruva attained the eternal state. I bow to the son of Brahmā, the vessel of all auspiciousness.” As the second chapter began, Sūta continued: Here is the glory of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. Nārada, seeing Bhakti’s distress, sought to remove it. He said, “Child, why do you grieve in vain, so troubled by anxiety? Remember the lotus feet of Śrī Kṛṣṇa—your sorrow will depart. “It was He who rescued Draupadī from calamity at the hands of the Kauravas and protected the cowherd women. Where has that Kṛṣṇa gone now? But you, Bhakti, are always dearer to Him than life itself. When you call, the Lord comes even to the houses of the lowly. “In the first three ages, truth and knowledge, along with detachment, are the means to liberation; but in Kali, only Bhakti grants union with Brahman. Thus, having decided, the Conscious One created you, who are of the same nature, as a beautiful form of supreme bliss, beloved of Kṛṣṇa. “With folded hands, you once asked, ‘What shall I do?’ Then Kṛṣṇa instructed you: ‘Nourish my devotees.’ You accepted that command, and Hari was pleased. He gave you Mukti as a maidservant, and these two—Jñāna and Vairāgya—became your companions.