In the age of Kali, a remarkable transformation occurs: what cannot be attained by severe austerities, by yoga, or by deep meditation, is fully and easily gained simply by praising Keśava, the Supreme Lord. Recognizing the character of this age—uniform in its faults, lacking in true substance and essence—Viṣṇurāta established Kali for the happiness of those born in this era. Yet, a shadow has fallen over the world. Due to the accumulation of evil deeds, the very essence has departed from all things, leaving behind only empty shells, like husks without seeds. The brāhmaṇas, once teachers of the Bhāgavata’s sacred wisdom in every home and to all people, have lost the heart of these stories, driven by greed for payment. Even those who dwell in holy places—though they may perform abundant and terrible acts, or live without faith—find that the true sanctity of these sites has vanished. People, their minds agitated by desire, anger, greed, and thirst, still engage in austerity, but the true purpose and power of such practices have been lost. The fruits of meditation and yoga, too, are wasted—defeated by the mind, corrupted by greed and hypocrisy, undermined by heresy, and even by the mere study of scriptures without true understanding. The learned, skilled in the ways of family life, delight with their wives and produce sons, but are unskilled in the path to liberation. True Vaiṣṇavism, the heart of devotion, is nowhere to be found—not even among the leaders of the traditions. Thus, the essence of reality has perished everywhere. But this is the nature of the age; who can be blamed? Therefore, the Lotus-eyed Lord, ever compassionate, endures, standing near at hand. Hearing these words, the assembly was filled with wonder. Then Bhakti herself spoke again, her voice gentle and full of grace: “Let this also be heard, O Śaunaka,” she said. “O sage among the gods, you are truly blessed, for you have come here by my good fortune. The mere sight of the virtuous in this world bestows all perfections. “Victory, victory to Him whose body is the very 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 next chapter began, the glory of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam shone forth. Nārada, moved by Bhakti’s distress, spoke with compassion: “Child, why do you grieve in vain, so troubled by anxiety? Remember the lotus feet of Śrī Kṛṣṇa—your sorrow will depart. Was it not He who rescued Draupadī from her calamity among the Kauravas? Was it not He who 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—Kṛta, Tretā, and Dvāpara—truth and knowledge, together with detachment, were the means to liberation. But in Kali, only Bhakti grants union with Brahman. “Thus, the Supreme Consciousness created you, of the same nature as Himself, a beautiful form of supreme bliss, beloved of Kṛṣṇa. With folded hands, you once asked, ‘What shall I do?’ And Kṛṣṇa instructed you: ‘Nourish my devotees.’ You accepted His command, and Hari was pleased. He gave you Mukti, liberation, as your maidservant, and these two—Jñāna (knowledge) and Vairāgya (detachment)—as your sons. “In Vaikuṇṭha, you nourish by your own form, but on earth, to nourish devotees, you manifest a shadow-form. With Mukti, Jñāna, and Vairāgya, you descended to earth and remained in great joy from the beginning of Kṛta until the end of Dvāpara. But in Kali, Mukti was destroyed, afflicted by heresy; by your command, she quickly returned to Vaikuṇṭha. Liberation comes and goes here as you remember, and your two sons, made so by you, are protected at your side. “Yet, because of neglect, your two sons have become weak and old in this age of Kali. But do not worry—I will find a way. O beautiful one, there is no age like Kali; in this age, I will establish you in every home, among all people. Setting aside other duties, giving priority to great festivals, at that time, I will not serve Hari nor spread you in the world. “Those living beings who are accompanied by you in this Kali age—even if sinful—will go without fear to Krishna’s temple. For those whose hearts are always filled with devotion in the form of love, impure beings cannot harm them, not even in dreams. Neither ghosts, spirits, demons, nor even asuras can overpower those whose minds are endowed with devotion, even by touch. Neither by austerities, nor by the Vedas, nor by knowledge or actions, is Hari attained—only by devotion; the gopīs are the proof of this. “After thousands of human births, love for devotion arises; but in Kali, devotion alone is enough—by devotion, Krishna stands before you. Those who are hostile to devotion sink in all three worlds; once, even Durvāsā suffered misery for insulting a devotee. Enough of vows, enough of pilgrimages, enough of yogas, enough of sacrifices, enough of discussions on knowledge—devotion alone grants liberation.” Hearing these words, Bhakti, now endowed with all auspiciousness, spoke with gratitude to Nārada: “O Nārada, how blessed you are! Your love for me is unwavering. I will never leave you; I will always remain in your heart. O compassionate sage, by you my affliction was destroyed in an instant. My two sons, however, lack consciousness—therefore, awaken them, awaken them.” Hearing her plea, Nārada was filled with compassion. He began to awaken the two, gently rubbing them with his fingertips. Placing his mouth near their ears, he called out loudly: “O Jñāna, awaken quickly! O Vairāgya, awaken!” With repeated recitations of the Vedas, Vedānta, and the Gītā, he tried to rouse them, and with great effort, Jñāna and Vairāgya somehow rose, slowly awakening from their slumber.