When word spread that their beloved Krishna was returning, the hearts of Vasudeva, noble Akrura, venerable Ugrasena, and Balarama—renowned for his wondrous might—leapt with anticipation. Pradyumna, Charudeshna, Samba the son of Jambavati, and all the others, overwhelmed with joy, left behind their beds, seats, and even their meals, unable to contain their happiness. They arranged a grand procession, placing the lordly elephant at the forefront. Brahmins chanted auspicious hymns, and the air resounded with the deep notes of conch shells and trumpets. The Vedic hymns mingled with these sounds, and all moved forward in chariots, their hearts brimming with affection and awe as they went to receive Krishna. Hundreds of splendid elephants, eager for a glimpse of him, adorned with shining earrings and radiant faces, added to the city's splendor. Dancers, actors, Gandharvas, bards, Magadhas, and singers filled the air with songs of Krishna’s wondrous deeds, celebrating the glories of the illustrious one. Within this joyous throng, Krishna approached his relatives and the citizens, honoring each according to custom. With humility, he greeted the elders, embraced his equals, touched the hands of his friends, and bestowed smiling glances upon all. To those who had been away, he offered words of comfort; to others, he granted the boons they desired. He himself, accompanied by elders, priests, his wives, and aged relatives, received blessings from others as he entered the city, with singers accompanying him. As Krishna made his way along the royal road of Dvaraka, the noble women of the city hurried to the balconies of their mansions, eager for the great festival of sight—darshan—of the Lord. Yet, even as the people of Dvaraka gazed upon him constantly, their eyes were never sated, for Krishna is the very abode of fortune and the source of all beauty. His chest was the dwelling place of Lakshmi herself; 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. He was adorned with white parasols and fans, showered with fresh flowers along his path. Clad in yellow garments and a garland of forest flowers, he shone like the sun encircled by clouds, a rainbow, and lightning. Entering his parents’ house, Krishna was embraced by his mothers, and he bowed joyfully to Devaki and the other seven. Those loving mothers, their affection overflowing, lifted Krishna onto their laps and, overwhelmed with joy, bathed him in tears. Thereafter, Krishna entered his own unsurpassed palace, which fulfilled every desire and contained sixteen thousand mansions for his wives. His wives, having been separated from their beloved, now rose at once from their seats and beds as he returned, their hearts filled with the joy of a festival. Yet, out of modesty and the vows they observed, their faces and eyes were cast down. Though their feelings were difficult to restrain, these noble ladies of the Bhṛgu line embraced their husband with their children, gazing at him with longing. Even as they tried to hold back, tears of bashful emotion welled up and fell from their eyes. Though Krishna was present with them in private, at every moment his lotus feet seemed ever new and wondrous to them. What woman could ever tire of those feet, when even the restless goddess of fortune never abandons them? Thus, after having stirred enmity among the kings—those who were born as the earth’s burden and who turned their armies against each other—Krishna, like the wind extinguishing fire, brought about their mutual destruction and then stood apart, weaponless. The Lord descended into this world by his own power. Surrounded by the choicest of women, he enjoyed himself as if he were an ordinary man. Yet even Cupid, confounded by their passionate glances, bashful smiles, and sidelong looks, put aside his bow, bewildered; but these foremost women, with all their charms, could not disturb Krishna’s senses. People, ignorant of his true nature, imagined him to be attached, judging by their own standards, seeing him engaged in worldly affairs. Yet this is the sovereignty of the Lord: though he dwells in nature, he is never bound by its qualities, just as the intelligence of those who take refuge in him remains unaffected. Foolish women, unable to fathom their Lord, thought of him as their own, devoted to them in private, just as ordinary minds mistake the Supreme for something limited. At times, Krishna and Balarama, roaring and bellowing like bulls in rut, would imitate the cries of animals and play together, as if they were ordinary beings. Once, while Krishna and Balarama were tending their calves with their friends on the banks of the Yamuna, a demon came, intent on killing them. This demon, having taken the form of a calf and mingled with the herd, was noticed by Hari, who, feigning innocence, sat down slowly and pointed him out to Balarama. Then Krishna seized the demon by his hind legs and tail, whirled him around, and hurled him onto the top of a kapittha tree. The great-bodied demon, struck down along with the falling fruits, fell lifeless. The astonished boys exclaimed in delight, “Well done! Well done!” and the gods, pleased, showered flowers from above. Though Krishna and Balarama were the sole protectors of all 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. 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, with his sharp beak, seized Krishna with force. Seeing Krishna swallowed by the great Baka, Rama and the other boys became like senses bereft of life, bewildered and afraid. But Krishna, the 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, intent on killing 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, just as a hero among the gods would do, bringing joy to his friends. The residents of heaven showered Krishna with Nandana flowers and jasmine, praising him with drums, conches, and hymns. The cowherd boys were amazed to witness such wonders. When Krishna was released from Baka’s mouth, the boys, led by Rama, felt as if their very life had returned; they embraced him with relief, gathered the calves, and joyfully returned to Vraja, singing of the event. Hearing of 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. “Alas,” they thought, “how many dangers this boy has faced! Perhaps some past misdeed of ours is the cause of this fear.