Śuka continued: Having been addressed in this way, the two respectfully circumambulated the Lord, bowing to Him again and again. After taking leave of the mortar to which He had once been bound, they departed, setting out toward the northern direction. Thus, the Supreme Lord revealed Himself through the devotion of His devotees; for without such devotion, even the wisest cannot perceive Him. His birth, actions, and other divine pastimes are not subject to the laws that bind others; these are ascribed to Him by Māyā only to dispel the misconception of agency in Him. Now, this period is known as the Brahmā’s kalpa, distinguished by its own characteristics—a time in which the primary and secondary processes of creation unfold. I will explain the measure of time, the form that marks a kalpa, and, as before, describe the Padma Kalpa. Listen attentively. At this point, Śaunaka spoke: “O Sūta, you have told us that Vidura, greatest of devotees, renounced his most difficult-to-abandon relatives and wandered to holy places across the earth. The conversation between Vidura, the son of Vyāsa, and the sage Kauśārava was based on spiritual inquiry; that great soul, when questioned, spoke the truth to him. Please, gentle one, tell us what Vidura did, and for what reason he left his family and later returned.” Sūta replied: “What the great sage answered when King Parīkṣit questioned him, I will now relate to you. Listen carefully, for it follows the king’s own questions.” The king had asked: “In which action of the Lord, the maker of the universe and my own self, was His fame increased by Kṛṣṇa? Please describe this.” Then Śrī Nārada spoke: “When the demons were defeated in battle by the gods, whose strength was augmented by Him, they sought refuge with Maya, the supreme master of illusion. Maya, powerful and resourceful, 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. With these cities, the armies of the demons and their lords, recalling their ancient enmity, began to lay waste to the three worlds, O King. The rulers of the worlds, along with their own lords, approached the Lord, bowed down, and pleaded: ‘Protect us, O God! We are being destroyed by the inhabitants of Tripura.’ Showing them His favor, the Lord reassured them, saying, ‘Do not fear.’ He strung an arrow to His bow and released a weapon upon the cities. Then, arrows blazing like fire arose from the solar orb; like rays of light, they could not be seen as they approached the cities. Struck by these, 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 that nectar of immortality, they, strong as thunderbolts and full of 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 place. 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, in their delusion they did not prevent it. Realizing this, the great yogī Maya spoke to the guardians of the nectar. Smiling and free from sorrow, he reflected on those afflicted by grief and the workings of destiny, for whether god, demon, human, or any other—none here is truly 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 the 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 filled with hundreds of celestial vehicles. The gods, sages, ancestors, and perfected beings, overjoyed, showered flowers and proclaimed victory, while the hosts of Apsaras danced in delight. Thus, having burned the three cities, the Lord—the destroyer of cities—was praised by Brahmā and others, and 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 deeds purify the world. Sūta resumed: Approaching the lands of Ānarta and his own prosperous regions, the Lord blew His resounding conch, as if to dispel the sorrow of the people. That conch, white-bellied and high-pitched, touched by the reddish lower lip of the mighty Lord and blown 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 Lord, came forth. Gathered together, their strength renewed, they honored Him as one would a lamp in darkness, ever content and fulfilled in themselves by His very presence. With faces blooming with joy, they spoke in voices choked with happiness, as children to a father who is their protector and dearest friend: ‘We bow to you, Master, whose lotus feet are always worshipped by Brahmā, Shiva, and Indra. You are the supreme refuge for those who seek well-being, where even Time, the supreme lord, holds no sway. For our welfare, you are the creator, sustainer, and protector of the universe; you are our mother, friend, lord, and father; you are our true teacher and highest deity—by following you, we have become accomplished. Ah, we are truly blessed by you, for even the gods of heaven rarely behold what we see: your face, radiant with loving smiles and glances, and your form, adorned with all auspiciousness. O lotus-eyed one, whenever you departed for the Kurus or the Madhus, wishing to see your friends, each moment became as long as millions of ages, like eyes bereft of the sun, O Acyuta.’ Thus, as the people spoke these words, the Lord—ever affectionate to His devotees—listened and bestowed His gracious glance upon them, then entered the city. Protected by the Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Kukuras, Andhakas, and Vrishnis, whose strength was equal to His own, He made the city secure, just as the serpents guard Bhogavati.