In the city of Dvaraka, a momentous sound echoed—the mighty Lord Krishna blew his conch, its white belly pressed against his reddish lower lip, and its high, clear pitch resounded from his lotus-like hand. The blast was like the call of a swan amidst lotuses, stirring hearts and dispelling fear. Hearing this auspicious sound, the people, eager to behold their beloved Lord, rushed forth. Gathered together, their spirits renewed, they honored him as one would a lamp in darkness, finding contentment and fulfillment simply in his presence. Their faces bloomed with joy, and their voices, choked with happiness, spoke to him as children speak to a father—their protector and dearest friend. With reverence, they bowed and addressed him: “Master, whose lotus feet are worshipped by Brahma, Shiva, and Indra, you are the supreme refuge for those seeking well-being, beyond even the reach of time, the supreme lord.” They acknowledged him as the creator, sustainer, and protector of the universe, declaring, “You are our mother, friend, lord, and father. You are our true teacher and highest deity; by following you, we have become accomplished.” They felt themselves truly blessed, for even the gods seldom see what they now beheld: Krishna’s face, radiant with loving smiles and glances, and his form adorned with all auspiciousness. “O lotus-eyed one,” they said, “whenever you departed for the Kurus or the Madhus to visit friends, every moment without you felt as long as millions of ages, like eyes bereft of the sun, O Acyuta.” As these words flowed from their hearts, Krishna, ever affectionate to his devotees, listened and bestowed his gracious glance, then entered the city. Protected by the valiant Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Kukuras, Andhakas, and Vrishnis—whose strength matched his own—Krishna made Dvaraka secure, just as serpents guard the city of Bhogavati. The city shone in every season, flourishing in prosperity, surrounded by auspicious trees, creepers, hermitages, gardens, parks, and lotus ponds. At the gates, doorways, and roads, festive arches adorned with colorful flags and banners were erected, keeping even the sunlight at bay. The grand 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, sugarcane, full pots, offerings, incense, and lamps. Upon hearing that their beloved Krishna was arriving, Vasudeva, noble-minded, Akrura, Ugrasena, Balarama of wondrous prowess, Pradyumna, Charudeshna, and Samba, son of Jambavati—all overwhelmed with joy—abandoned their beds, seats, and meals. Placing the lordly elephant at the front, accompanied by Brahmins chanting auspicious hymns, with the sounds of conch shells and trumpets, honored by Vedic hymns, they joyfully approached Krishna with chariots, moved by affection and awe. Hundreds of leading elephants, eager for his sight, their shining earrings and radiant cheeks enhancing the spectacle, added to the splendor. Dancers, actors, Gandharvas, bards, Magadhas, and singers sang of Krishna’s wondrous deeds and stories. Krishna, surrounded by his relatives and citizens, approached each according to custom and honored them all—with humble greetings, embraces, hand-touch, and smiling glances. He comforted those who had been away and granted desired boons to others. With elders, priests, wives, and aged relatives, he received blessings and entered the city, accompanied by singers. As Krishna proceeded along the royal road of Dvaraka, the noble women of the city ascended their mansions, eager for the great festival of his sight. Though the residents gazed upon him constantly, their eyes were never satisfied, for Krishna is the abode of fortune and the source of beauty. His chest is 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. Adorned with white parasols and fans, showered with fresh flowers along the path, wearing yellow garments and a forest garland, Krishna shone like the sun surrounded by clouds, a rainbow, and lightning. Entering his parents’ house, Krishna was embraced by his mothers. He bowed his head joyfully to Devaki and the other seven. Those women, their breasts wet from affection, lifted their son onto their laps and, overwhelmed with joy, bathed him with tears from their eyes. Then Krishna entered his own unsurpassed palace, fulfilling every desire, where sixteen thousand mansions housed his wives. After being separated from their husband, his wives rose at once from their seats and beds, their hearts filled with festival-like joy, their faces and eyes 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 Krishna was beside them in private, his feet seemed ever new to them; which woman could ever cease from his feet, when even the restless goddess of fortune never abandons them? In this way, after causing enmity among the kings—who were born as the burden of the earth and whose power was turned against each other with armies—Krishna, 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, struck down by their passionate glances, bashful smiles, and sidelong looks, became bewildered and put aside his bow; yet those foremost women, with all their charms, could not disturb Krishna’s senses with their wiles. People, being ignorant, considered Krishna attached, though he was unattached, because they judged him by their own standards, seeing him engaged in worldly affairs. This is the sovereignty of the Lord: though he dwells in nature, he is never bound by its qualities, just as the intelligence of one who takes refuge in him is not affected by those qualities. Foolish women, not knowing the measure of their Lord, thought of him as their own man, devoted to them in private, just as ordinary minds mistake the Lord for something limited. Krishna and Balarama, at times, roared and bellowed like bulls in rut, imitating the cries of animals and playing together as if they were ordinary beings. Once, while Krishna and Balarama were tending their calves with their friends on the bank of the Yamuna, a demon approached, intent on killing them.