The celestial beings, standing before the Supreme Lord, addressed Him with reverence: “O Supreme Lord, please grant us, Your humble attendants, permission to depart. By the grace of the great sage, we have been blessed with the rare vision of Your divine form.” They offered heartfelt prayers: “May our words ever recount Your glories, our ears be devoted to hearing Your stories, our hands always serve You, our minds rest at Your feet, and our heads bow in remembrance of You, the shelter of the universe. May our eyes find delight in beholding the holy ones, who embody Your presence.” As the two praised Him thus, Śuka narrated, the Lord of Gokula—who at that moment was still bound to the mortar by the rope—smiled kindly and spoke to the celestial beings. The Blessed Lord said, “This is already known to Me, for it was revealed by the compassionate sage: through the words of those blinded by wealth, you lost your exalted position, and thus you have come to receive My grace. For those who are virtuous, even-minded, and wholly devoted to Me, there is no bondage from beholding Me, just as the sun does not bind the eyes of men. Now, return to your own abode, O Nalakūbara. The supreme devotion you both longed for has now arisen within your hearts.” Thus instructed, the two celestial beings circumambulated the Lord, offered repeated obeisances, took leave of the mortar to which He was bound, and departed toward the northern direction. Śuka concluded, “In this way, the Supreme Lord is revealed only through devotion; without such devotion, even the wise cannot behold Him. His actions, birth, and other pastimes are not governed by the laws that bind others; these are attributed to Him by Māyā, only to dispel the misconception of agency.” He continued, “This is known as the Brahmā’s kalpa, described as having various distinctions, in which the general process of creation unfolds, both the primary and the secondary. I will now explain the measure of time, the form that marks a kalpa, and, as before, describe the Padma Kalpa—listen attentively.” At this point, Śaunaka, the sage, spoke: “O Sūta, you told us that Vidura, the foremost devotee, left behind his most difficult-to-abandon relatives and wandered to holy places on earth. The conversation between Vidura, son of Vyāsa, and the sage Kauśārava was based on spiritual inquiry; or, when questioned, that great soul spoke the truth to him. Please tell us, gentle one, what Vidura did, and for what reason he renounced his family and then returned again.” Sūta replied, “What the great sage answered when King Parīkṣit asked him, I will now relate to you—listen carefully, as it follows the king’s questions.” The king had asked, “In which deed of the Lord, the maker of the universe and my own self, was His fame increased by Kṛṣṇa? Please describe this.” Śrī Nārada then narrated: “When the demons were defeated in battle by the gods, who had been strengthened by the Lord, the demons sought refuge with Maya, the supreme master of illusion. Maya, powerful and skilled, constructed three cities—one of gold, one of silver, and one of iron—difficult to perceive, joined by subtle means, and protected by unimaginable defenses. From these cities, the demon armies and their lords, remembering their ancient enmity, began to lay waste to the three worlds, O King. In distress, the rulers of the worlds and their lords approached the Lord, bowed down, and pleaded, ‘Protect us, O God! We are being destroyed by the inhabitants of Tripura.’ The Lord, favoring them, assured, ‘Do not fear,’ and, stringing an arrow to His bow, unleashed a mighty weapon upon the cities. Arrows, blazing like fire, arose from the solar orb; like rays of light, they were unseen as they descended upon the cities. Struck by these arrows, all the inhabitants of the cities lost their lives and fell. But Maya, the great yogī, gathered them and cast them into a well of nectar. Touched by this nectar of immortality, they, strong as thunderbolts and filled with great energy, rose up again, splitting the clouds like flashes of lightning. Seeing his resolve broken and Vṛṣadhvaja disheartened, Lord Viṣṇu devised another means. At that time, Brahmā became the calf, Viṣṇu Himself became the cow, and, entering Tripura at the right moment, they drank the nectar from the well. Though the demons saw this, they did not prevent it, being deluded. Realizing this, the great yogī Maya spoke to the guardians of the nectar. Smiling, free from sorrow, he remembered those afflicted by grief and the workings of destiny; for god, demon, human, or any other—none here is independent. What is ordained for oneself or another cannot be averted by either, for fate prevails. Then, with his own powers, he performed the principal act of Shiva. Through righteousness, knowledge, detachment, prosperity, austerity, learning, and action, he manifested the chariot, charioteer, banner, horses, bow, armor, arrows, and all else. Fully armed, mounting the chariot, he took up bow and arrow; fitting the arrow to the bow, in a moment, the Lord of Victory prepared himself. With that arrow, O King, Hara burned the three impregnable cities. In the heavens, drums resounded, and the skies were crowded with hundreds of celestial vehicles. The gods, sages, ancestors, and perfected beings, joyful, showered flowers and proclaimed victory; the hosts of Apsaras danced in delight. Thus, having burned the three cities, the Lord, destroyer of cities, praised by Brahmā and others, returned to His own abode. In this way, the deeds of Hari, who by His own power playfully imitates the ways of mortals, are sung by the sages; what more can I say, for these purify the world.” Sūta continued: “Approaching the lands of Ānarta and His own prosperous regions, the Lord blew His resounding conch, as if dispelling all sorrow from the hearts of the people. That conch, white-bellied and high-pitched, touched by the Lord’s reddish lower lip and held in His lotus-like hand, sounded like the call of a swan in a pond of lotuses. Hearing that resounding, fear-dispelling blast, all the people, eager to see their beloved Lord, came forth. Gathered together, their strength renewed, they honored Him as one would honor a lamp in darkness, ever content and fulfilled simply by His presence. With faces blooming with joy, their voices choked with happiness, they spoke to Him as children would to a father—their protector and dearest friend.