At the threshold of every house, the people of Dvaraka decorated their doors with full pots, offerings of yogurt, grains, fruits, and sugarcane, along with incense and lamps, preparing a festive welcome. News spread swiftly that their beloved Krishna was returning. Vasudeva, noble-hearted, Akrura, Ugrasena, and the mighty Balarama, along with Pradyumna, Charudeshna, Samba—the son of Jambavati—and all the others, were so overwhelmed with joy that they abandoned their beds, seats, and even their meals, eager to greet him. They placed the lordly elephant at the front of the procession, accompanied by Brahmins chanting auspicious hymns. The air was filled with the sound of conch shells and trumpets, and Vedic hymns honored the occasion. With hearts full of affection and awe, they approached Krishna joyfully in chariots. Hundreds of splendid elephants, adorned with shining earrings and radiant faces, added to the grandeur of the scene. Dancers, actors, Gandharvas, bards, Magadhas, and singers sang of Krishna’s wondrous deeds and stories, filling the city with music and praise. The Blessed Lord, surrounded by his relatives and citizens, greeted each person according to custom, honoring them all. With humble greetings, embraces, hand-touch, and smiling glances, he comforted those who had been away, granting desired blessings to others. Krishna himself, together with elders, priests, wives, and aged relatives, received blessings from those gathered and entered the city, accompanied by singers. As he proceeded along Dvaraka’s royal road, noble women ascended their mansions, eager to witness the festival of Krishna’s arrival. Though the residents gazed upon him constantly, their eyes were never satisfied, for Krishna is the very abode of fortune and the source of all beauty. His chest was the dwelling place of fortune, his face a vessel for the eyes to drink in, 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, clad in yellow garments and a garland of forest flowers, Krishna shone like the sun surrounded by clouds, a rainbow, and lightning. Entering his parents’ house, Krishna was joyfully embraced by his mothers. He bowed his head to Devaki and the other seven, and those women, their breasts wet with affection, lifted their son onto their laps and bathed him with tears of joy. Then Krishna entered his own unsurpassed palace, fulfilling every desire, where sixteen thousand mansions housed his wives. His wives, after being separated from their husband and now seeing him return, rose at once from their seats and beds. Their hearts overflowed with festival-like joy, yet their faces and eyes were cast down in modesty, mindful of their vows. Though their feelings were difficult to restrain, these noble ladies of the Bhṛgu line embraced Krishna with their children, gazing at him with longing. Even as they tried to hold back, tears of bashful emotion flowed from their eyes. Even when Krishna was right beside them in private, at every step his feet appeared 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, having descended into this world of men by his own power, enjoyed himself as if he were an ordinary man, surrounded by the choicest of women. Even Cupid, struck down by their passionate glances, bashful smiles, and sidelong looks, became bewildered and put aside his bow. Yet, despite all their charms, these foremost women could not disturb Krishna’s senses with their wiles. People, ignorant of his true nature, considered Krishna attached, judging him by their own standards when they saw him engaged in worldly affairs. But 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 Krishna as their own man, devoted to them in private, just as ordinary minds mistake the Lord for something limited. Krishna and Balarama, roaring and bellowing like bulls in rut, sometimes imitated the cries of animals and played together, appearing as 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. This demon, disguised as a calf, mingled with the herd. Hari, feigning innocence, sat down slowly and pointed him out to Balarama. Then Krishna, Acyuta, seized the demon by his hind legs and tail, whirled him around, and threw him onto the top of a kapittha tree. The demon, struck by the falling fruits, fell lifeless. The astonished boys exclaimed, “Well done! Well done!” and the gods, greatly pleased, showered flowers from above. Though Krishna and Balarama were the sole protectors of all the worlds, they acted as cowherd boys, tending the calves and taking their morning meal as usual. One day, each boy led his group of calves to the water’s edge. After letting the calves drink, they themselves drank water. There, the boys saw a great being standing, resembling a mountain peak struck down by Indra’s thunderbolt. It was Baka, a mighty demon in the form of a crane, who suddenly approached and seized Krishna with his sharp beak. Seeing Krishna swallowed by Baka, Rama and the other boys became like senses bereft of life, bewildered. But Krishna, son of the cowherd and teacher of the world, burned the root of Baka’s palate like fire. Overwhelmed by pain, Baka spat him out and, enraged, attacked again with his beak to kill him. As Baka rushed upon him, Krishna, Lord of the virtuous and friend of Kamsa, seized him by the beak and, while the boys watched, effortlessly tore him apart, bringing them joy. The residents of heaven showered Krishna with Nandana flowers and jasmine, praising him with drums, conches, and hymns. The sons of the cowherds were amazed. When Krishna was released from Baka’s mouth, the boys, led by Rama, felt as if life had returned to their senses. Embracing him with relief, they gathered the calves and joyfully returned to Vraja, singing of the event. Hearing this, the cowherds and their wives, filled with wonder and deep affection, gazed at Krishna with thirsty eyes, as if he had returned from the dead.