As the Lord completed his mighty task of burning the three cities, a wondrous celebration unfolded in the heavens and on earth. The gods, sages, ancestors, and perfected beings rejoiced, showering flowers from above and proclaiming his victory. The celestial Apsaras danced in delight, their joy echoing the triumph of the Lord, who is renowned as the destroyer of cities. Praised by Brahma and all the great ones, the Lord returned to his own abode, his work accomplished. The sages sing of such deeds of Hari—how he, by his own divine power, playfully imitates the ways of mortals. These stories, so profound and purifying, uplift the world; what more can be said of their glory? Sūta continued the tale: Approaching the lands of Ānarta and his own prosperous regions, the Lord raised his resounding conch shell. Its mighty sound seemed to dispel all sorrow from the hearts of his people. The conch, with its white belly and high, clear pitch, glowed as it was pressed to the Lord’s reddish lower lip. When blown from his lotus-like hand, it sounded like a swan calling out in a pond filled with lotuses. The people heard the fear-dispelling blast and rushed eagerly to behold their beloved Lord. Gathering together, their spirits renewed, they honored him as one would a lamp that banishes darkness. Simply by his presence, they found contentment and fulfillment. Their faces bloomed with joy, and their voices, choked with happiness, addressed him as children would their father, protector, and dearest friend. They bowed before him, saying, “O Master, whose lotus feet are ever worshipped by Brahma, Shiva, and Indra, you are the supreme refuge for those seeking 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, our true teacher and highest deity. By following you, we have become accomplished. Truly, we are blessed, for even the gods of heaven rarely behold what we see: your face radiant with loving smiles and glances, your form adorned with all auspiciousness. O lotus-eyed one, whenever you departed for the Kurus or the Madhus to visit your friends, each moment felt as long as millions of ages, like eyes bereft of the sun, O Acyuta.” As the people spoke these heartfelt words, the Lord, ever affectionate to his devotees, listened kindly and bestowed his gracious glance upon them before entering the city. Protected by the mighty clans—the Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Kukuras, Andhakas, and Vrishnis—whose strength matched his own, he made the city secure, like the serpents guarding the city of Bhogavati. Dvaraka shone in every season, flourishing with all prosperity, surrounded by auspicious trees, creepers, hermitages, gardens, parks, and lotus ponds. At the city’s gates, doorways, and roads, festive arches were adorned with colorful flags and banners, keeping even the sunlight at bay within. The avenues, streets, markets, and squares were swept clean, sprinkled with fragrant water, and decorated with fruits, flowers, and grains. At every house, doors were adorned with yogurt, grains, fruits, and sugarcane, with full pots, offerings, incense, and lamps welcoming the Lord’s return. Hearing of his arrival, Vasudeva, noble-minded Akrura, Ugrasena, the mighty Rama, Pradyumna, Charudeshna, Samba, son of Jambavati, and others, overwhelmed with joy, left their beds, seats, and meals behind. Placing the lordly elephant at the front, accompanied by Brahmins chanting auspicious hymns, and the sounds of conch shells and trumpets, they came forth, their hearts moved by affection and awe. Hundreds of splendid elephants, adorned with gleaming earrings and radiant faces, enhanced the splendor of the procession. Dancers, actors, Gandharvas, bards, Magadhas, and singers celebrated the Lord’s wondrous deeds and stories with their performances and songs. As the Blessed Lord walked among his relatives and citizens, he greeted each according to custom and honored them all. With humble greetings, embraces, hand-touches, and smiling glances, he comforted those who had been away and granted desired boons to others. He himself, along with elders, priests, wives, and aged relatives, received blessings from others and entered the city, accompanied by singers. As Krishna proceeded along Dvaraka’s royal road, the noble women of the city ascended to the rooftops of their mansions, eager to witness the great festival of his return. Though the residents gazed upon him constantly, their eyes were never satisfied, for he is the very abode of fortune and the source of all beauty. His chest was the dwelling place of fortune, his face the drinking vessel for the eyes, his arms the guardians of the world, and his lotus feet the refuge of the virtuous. He was adorned with white parasols and fans, showered with fresh flowers along his path. Clad in yellow garments and a forest garland, he shone like the sun surrounded by clouds, a rainbow, and lightning. Entering his parents’ house, he was embraced by his mothers, bowing joyfully to Devaki and the other seven. The mothers, their affection overflowing, lifted their son onto their laps and, overwhelmed with joy, bathed him with tears. Thereafter, he entered his own unsurpassed palace, fulfilling every desire, where sixteen thousand mansions of his wives awaited him. His wives, long separated from their beloved, rose at once from their seats and beds, their hearts filled with festival-like joy. Their faces and eyes were cast down in modesty due to their vows. Though their feelings were difficult to restrain, those noble ladies of the Bhṛgu line embraced their husband with their children, gazing at him with inner longing. Even as they tried to hold back, tears flowed from their eyes out of bashful emotion. Even when he was beside them in private, each step revealed his pair of feet as ever new to them; for which woman could ever turn away from his feet, when even the restless goddess of fortune never abandons them? In this way, after having caused enmity among the kings—who were born as the burden of the earth and whose power was turned against each other in battle—he, like the wind extinguishing fire, brought about their mutual destruction, and then stood apart, weaponless. The Lord descended into this world of men by his own power and, surrounded by the choicest of women, enjoyed himself as if he were an ordinary man. Even Cupid himself, struck down by their passionate glances, bashful smiles, and sidelong looks, became bewildered and set aside his bow; yet those foremost women, with all their charms, could not disturb his senses with their wiles. People, being ignorant, consider him attached, though he is truly unattached, for they judge by their own standards, seeing him engaged in worldly affairs.