The city was resplendent in celebration, adorned on every side with fortified ramparts, grand gateways, and houses glittering with golden ornaments. Majestic mansions rose skyward, their shining spires crowning the cityscape. Throughout the courtyards, streets, and crossroads, everything was impeccably clean, the ground sprinkled with fragrant sandal paste. Offerings of parched rice, whole grains, flowers, fruits, and rice were lovingly placed everywhere, marking the auspiciousness of the occasion. As the steadfast king made his way along the road, women of the city, filled with devotion, came forward at various places, carrying auspicious items—rice, whole grains, curd, water, sacred grass, flowers, and fruits. Out of affection, these virtuous women offered their heartfelt blessings as he entered his father's palace, their sweet, childlike songs echoing in the air. Within that splendid palace, adorned with clusters of magnificent jewels, the king was cherished exceedingly by his father and lived there as if he were a god in heaven. The beds were as white as milk foam and embellished with golden ornaments; the seats were of the most precious materials, and all the furnishings were made of gold. Crystal walls and great emeralds glittered, and jeweled lamps shone, decorated with gems from women's ornaments. Delightful gardens surrounded the palace, filled with wondrous celestial trees. Pairs of birds cooed melodiously, and intoxicated bees sang their songs. Ponds with steps of lapis lazuli brimmed with lotuses, water lilies, and kumuda flowers, frequented by swans, cranes, and chakravaka ducks. King Uttānapāda, the royal sage, witnessing his son's extraordinary glory, was filled with the highest wonder. Seeing him grown and beloved by the people, and approved by the ministers, the king installed Dhruva as the lord of the earth. Realizing his own advancing age, the lord of men, detached from worldly affairs, set out for the forest, contemplating the path of his soul. Meanwhile, in another part of the tale, the sage Śaunaka addressed Sūta, the best of the righteous, asking, "After Yudhiṣṭhira defeated the enemies who coveted his kingdom and wealth, and his meals were secured with his brothers, what did he do next? How did he proceed?" Sūta replied: Hari, the creator of the world, restored the Kuru dynasty, which had been destroyed by the fire of its own descendants. Having established Yudhiṣṭhira in his rightful kingdom, Hari was pleased at heart. Yudhiṣṭhira, having heard the wise words of Bhīṣma and Acyuta, and with his doubts dispelled by true knowledge, ruled the earth, supported by the unconquered, like Indra, with his brothers following him. During his reign, the clouds rained as desired, the earth yielded all that was wished for, and the cows joyfully drenched the villages with abundant milk. Rivers, oceans, mountains, forests, and plants—all the herbs—produced their fruits as desired. No ailments, diseases, or troubles—whether from fate, other beings, or oneself—ever afflicted the creatures during the reign of the king whose enemy was never born. Hari stayed for a few months in Hastināpura, bringing joy to his friends and pleasing his beloved sister. When it was time to depart, after taking leave and receiving permission, He embraced and bowed to them, ascended His chariot, and was honored by some. Subhadrā, Draupadī, Kuntī, the daughter of Virāṭa, Gāndhārī, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Yuyutsu, Kripa, and the twins Nakula and Sahadeva were present. Vṛkodara, Dhaumya, and the women, including the daughter of the King of Matsya, were bewildered and distraught, unable to bear the separation from the wielder of Śārṅga. Freed from bad company by association with the virtuous, a wise person is unable to abandon it, once having heard the delightful fame of Him who is praised. How could the sons of Pṛthā, whose minds were fixed on Him, endure the separation—after seeing, touching, conversing, lying down, sitting, and eating with Him? All of them, their hearts rushing after Him, followed Him with unblinking eyes, bound by affection, wandering here and there. The women of the family restrained their streaming tears out of longing for Devakī’s son, thinking, "Let no inauspiciousness occur as He leaves the house." The air was filled with the sounds of mṛdaṅgas, conches, bherīs, vīṇās, paṇavas, gomukhas, dhundhuris, ānakas, bells, and dundubhis. The noble women of the Kurus, eager to see Kṛṣṇa, climbed to the tops of the palaces and showered Him with flowers, their eyes smiling with love and modesty. Guḍākeśa, the beloved of the dearest friend, took up a white parasol adorned with a string of pearls and a jeweled handle. Uddhava and Sātyaki, with wondrous fans, fanned Madhupati as He shone on the road, being showered with flowers. Here and there, true blessings were heard, uttered by the twice-born—some appropriate, some not—addressed to Him who is beyond qualities, whose essence is qualities. Among the women of the Kaurava king’s city, mutual conversation arose, captivating all who heard, as their minds were absorbed in the Glorious One. They spoke: "Indeed, this very person is the ancient Being, who alone existed, undifferentiated, before the qualities, as the soul of the universe and its Lord, with His own power dormant in the night of dissolution. He, again, impelled by His own power, followed His own living energy—nature—desiring to create; wishing to assign names and forms to the formless Self, He, the maker of scripture, set it in motion. That very abode, which the sages—having mastered their senses and conquered the wind—behold with minds purified by overflowing devotion, surely this Being is worthy to purify existence. He, whose friendship is sung, whose sacred stories are told in the Vedas and in secret by those who know the mysteries, is the sole Lord, the soul of the universe, who by His play creates, maintains, and destroys, yet is not attached to these." They marveled, "Whenever kings of darkened minds live by unrighteousness, then indeed, from among the Sātvatas, He assumes forms, bearing fortune, truth, compassion, and fame, for the welfare of the world, age after age. Ah, how truly praiseworthy is the lineage of Yadu! How supremely holy is the forest of Madhu, where this foremost of men, the Lord of Śrī, delights both by His birth and by His wandering. Indeed, Kuśasthalī, which eclipses the fame of heaven and brings virtue to the earth, is blessed, for its people, by His grace, constantly behold their Lord’s smiling, glancing face." They concluded, "Surely, the Lord has been worshipped by these women through vows, ritual baths, offerings, and other observances, for He has taken their hands in marriage; repeatedly drinking the nectar of His affectionate speech, the women of Vraja became utterly absorbed in Him." Thus, the city rejoiced and the hearts of all overflowed with love and reverence for the Lord, whose presence sanctified their lives and whose departure filled them with longing and devotion.