With great reverence and joy, the people of Dvaraka prepared to welcome Lord Krishna home. At the very front of the grand procession strode a majestic elephant, honored as a leader among beasts, while Brahmins walked alongside, chanting auspicious hymns. The air was alive with the sound of conch shells and trumpets, their music mingling with the sacred recitations. Moved by deep affection and awe, the citizens advanced in chariots, eager to behold their beloved Lord. Hundreds of splendid elephants, adorned with gleaming earrings and radiant faces, added to the splendor of the scene, each animal eager for a glimpse of Krishna. Dancers and actors performed, while Gandharvas, bards, Magadhas, and singers filled the air with songs and stories of Krishna’s wondrous deeds. As Krishna drew near, surrounded by his kinsmen and the throngs of citizens, he greeted each person according to custom, honoring everyone with equal warmth. With humility, he offered respectful greetings, embraces, handclasps, and affectionate glances. To those who had been away, he offered comfort, and to others he granted whatever boons they desired. Accompanied by elders, priests, his wives, and aged relatives, Krishna himself received blessings from others as he entered the city, the songs of praise continuing all around. Along the royal road, the noble women of Dvaraka climbed to the rooftops of their mansions, eager for the festival of Krishna’s return, their hearts overflowing with anticipation. No matter how long the people gazed upon him, their eyes could never be satisfied; for Krishna is the very abode of fortune, the wellspring of all beauty. His chest was the dwelling place of the goddess of fortune; his face, a nectar for the eyes; his arms, the guardians of the world; and his lotus feet, the refuge of the virtuous. He moved through the city adorned with white parasols and fans, showered with fresh flowers along his path. Dressed in yellow garments and a garland of forest blooms, Krishna shone like the sun encircled by clouds, a rainbow, and flashes of lightning. Entering his parents’ home, Krishna was embraced by his mothers. Bowing his head joyfully before Devaki and the other seven, he received their loving welcome. Overwhelmed with affection, the mothers lifted their son onto their laps, their breasts wet with tears of joy as they bathed him with the water of their eyes. At last, Krishna entered his own unsurpassed palace, a place where every desire was fulfilled, and where sixteen thousand mansions stood for his wives. After their long separation, his wives rose at once from their seats and beds, their faces and eyes lowered in modesty, their hearts celebrating his return like a festival. Though their love was difficult to restrain, these noble ladies of the Bhṛgu line, accompanied by their children, embraced Krishna, gazing at him with deep longing. Even as they tried to hold back, tears of bashful emotion flowed from their eyes. Even in the privacy of their chambers, Krishna’s lotus feet seemed ever new to them; which woman could ever cease from adoring those feet, when even the restless goddess of fortune never leaves them? Thus, after causing enmity among the kings—who had been born as the earth’s burden and whose might was turned against each other in war—Krishna, like the wind extinguishing fire, brought about their mutual destruction and then stood apart, weaponless. Having descended into this world by his own divine power, the Lord, surrounded by the most beautiful of women, appeared to enjoy himself as an ordinary man. Yet, even Cupid himself was bewildered by the bashful smiles, passionate glances, and sidelong looks of these women, and put aside his bow in defeat. Still, with all their charms, they could not disturb Krishna’s senses. People, ignorant of his true nature, imagine him to be attached, simply because they judge him by their own standards, seeing him engaged in worldly affairs. But this is the Lord’s supreme mastery: though he dwells within nature, he is never bound by its qualities—just as the intelligence of those who take refuge in him remains untouched by the world. Foolish women, not knowing the true measure of their Lord, thought of Krishna as their own man, devoted to them alone in private, just as ordinary minds mistake the infinite Lord for something limited. Krishna and his brother Balarama, roaring and playing together like powerful bulls, would imitate the cries of animals, behaving as if they were ordinary boys. Once, while tending their calves with their friends on the banks of the Yamuna, a demon came with murderous intent. This demon, disguised as a calf and mingling with the herd, was soon noticed by Krishna. Feigning innocence, he sat down and pointed out the demon 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 demon, struck by the falling fruits, fell lifeless to the ground. The astonished boys shouted, “Well done! Well done!” while the gods, delighted, showered flowers from above. Even though Krishna and Balarama are the protectors of all the worlds, they continued to act as simple cowherd boys, tending their calves and taking their morning meal as usual. One day, each boy led his group of calves to the water’s edge; after the calves drank, the boys refreshed themselves as well. There, they beheld a great being standing before them, like a mountain peak felled by Indra’s thunderbolt. This was Baka, a mighty demon in the form of a huge crane. Suddenly, Baka lunged forward and seized Krishna with his sharp beak. Seeing Krishna swallowed, Rama and the other boys were stricken, like senses bereft of life. But Krishna, the teacher of the world, burned the root of Baka’s palate with his fiery energy. Overcome with pain, Baka spat Krishna out and, enraged, attacked again, his beak poised to kill. As Baka rushed upon him, Krishna seized the demon’s beak in his arms and, before the boys’ eyes, tore him apart effortlessly, as a hero among the gods would do, bringing great joy to his friends. The gods showered Krishna with flowers from Nandana and jasmine, and praised him with drums, conches, and hymns, while the cowherd boys looked on in amazement. When Krishna emerged unharmed from Baka’s mouth, the boys, led by Rama, felt life return to their bodies. Embracing Krishna in relief, they gathered the calves and joyfully returned to Vraja, singing of his wondrous feat. Hearing these tales, the cowherds and their wives gazed at Krishna with wonder and deep affection, as if he had returned to them from the dead. “Alas, how many dangers this boy has faced!” they exclaimed. “Perhaps some past misdeed of ours is the cause of this fear.” Yet, they marveled, “No terror can overcome him; those who come to harm him perish like moths in a flame.” Indeed, the words of the knowers of Brahman are never false; just as the sage Garga had foretold, so it had come to pass.