In the land of Vraja, a most astonishing wonder blossomed: in Vasudeva, the Soul of all beings, an unprecedented love grew ever stronger among the people and their children. There, where the unconquered Lord Himself resided, even natural enemies—men and wild beasts—dwelt together as friends. Swift deer and other creatures roamed in peace, for the presence of the Lord transformed the very nature of the world. Amidst this blessed land, the Supreme, non-dual, infinite Lord—whose knowledge knows no bounds—enacted the playful pastimes of a cowherd boy. Just as before, He wandered, searching for His calves and friends, a morsel of food held in His hand. In this enchanting form, He was beheld by Brahma, the very creator of the universe. Upon seeing the Lord, Brahma swiftly descended from his heavenly vehicle. He bowed to the earth as if lowering a golden staff, and with the crowns of his four heads, he touched the Lord’s two feet. Overcome with joy, tears flowed from his eyes as he performed a loving abhisheka, bathing the feet of Krishna. Again and again, Brahma rose and fell at Krishna’s feet, unable to contain his awe, recalling the greatness and glory he had previously witnessed. At last, he slowly rose, wiping his eyes, and with his neck bowed low, gazed upon Mukunda. Joining his palms in reverence, trembling with humility and emotion, Brahma spoke to the Lord, his voice choked with tears. Meanwhile, as these divine events unfolded, Sūta began to relate: When Arjuna departed for Dvārakā, his heart longed to see his dear relatives and to learn of the deeds of the illustrious Krishna. Yet months passed, and Arjuna did not return. O best of the Kurus, during this time, dreadful and ominous signs began to appear. Yudhishthira observed the fierce march of Time, the unnatural reversal of order, and the decline in people’s conduct—now driven by anger, greed, and falsehood. Dealings became crooked, friendships tainted with deceit, and quarrels erupted among fathers and mothers, friends, brothers, and even married couples. Witnessing these dire omens as Time advanced, and seeing greed and unrighteousness on the rise, the king spoke to his younger brother. He said, “Arjuna was sent to Dvārakā, longing to see our relatives and to learn of Krishna’s deeds. Now seven months have passed, and your younger brother Bhīmasena has not returned; for what reason, I do not know. Has the time foretold by the divine sage now arrived, when the Lord intends to relinquish His earthly play? By His grace, we obtained wealth, kingdom, wives, life, family, subjects, victory over enemies, and even the worlds. “Look at these portents, O tiger among men—celestial, terrestrial, and bodily—terrible and ominous, appearing nearby, filling us with fear and confusion. My thighs, eyes, and arms tremble repeatedly, and my heart is unsteady; surely, something inauspicious approaches. “The she-jackal, with fiery mouth, howls at the rising sun, and this dog cries at me as if afraid. Animals circle me on both sides, and I see my horses weeping. A pigeon, messenger of death, and the owl unsettle my mind with their screeches, portending sleeplessness and emptiness. The quarters are filled with smoke, the horizons and mountains tremble, and great thunderclaps resound, accompanied by lightning. “The wind blows harshly, scattering dust and darkness; clouds rain blood everywhere in a dreadful manner. The sun’s brilliance is dimmed, the planets collide in the sky, and the heavens seem ablaze, crowded with strange beings. Rivers and streams are agitated, as are lakes and people’s minds; even fire does not blaze, though fed with ghee. What will this time bring? “Calves refuse their mothers’ milk, cows do not yield, and with tearful faces, they cry, while the bulls show no joy. The deities themselves seem to weep, sweat, and tremble. Towns, villages, gardens, lakes, and hermitages have lost their splendor and joy. What misfortune do these signs foretell? “I think, by these great omens, the earth has been deprived of the feet of the Lord and of those rare souls blessed by His fortune, and has lost its prosperity.” While Yudhishthira reflected in this troubled state, disturbed by all these portents, the one bearing the monkey-banner—Arjuna—returned from the city of the Yadus. But Arjuna came not as before: he fell at Yudhishthira’s feet, distressed, his head bowed, tears falling from his lotus eyes. Seeing his brother so changed and troubled, the king questioned him in the midst of friends, recalling the words of the sage Narada. Yudhishthira asked, “Are our relatives in Anarta city well—the Madhus, Bhojas, Dasharhas, Ahukas, Satvatas, Andhakas, and Vrishnis? Is Shura, our maternal grandfather, and his wife well? Is our uncle Anakadundubhi and his younger brothers safe? Are the seven sisters, their husbands, other maternal uncles with their sons, and their daughters-in-law, led by Devaki herself, all well? “Is King Ahuka alive, and his son and younger brother? Is Hridika with his son, Akrura, Jayanta, Gada, and Sarana well? Are Shatrujit and the others safe? Is Rama, the Lord of the Satvatas, living happily? Is Pradyumna, the great chariot-warrior, well? Is Aniruddha, deep in his passions, growing and blessed? Are Sushena, Charudesha, Samba—the son of Jambavati—and the foremost of the Karsnis, with their sons, like Rishabha, well? And are the followers of Shauri—Shrutadeva, Uddhava, Sunanda, Nanda, Shirishanya, and the other chief Satvatas—well? Are all those who rely on the arms of Rama and Krishna safe? Do those bound by friendship remember our welfare? Is Govinda, the Lord, devoted to Brahmanas and affectionate to His devotees, living happily in the city of Sudharma, surrounded by friends?” Thus, with a heart full of concern and longing, Yudhishthira questioned his brother, seeking news of his beloved kin and, above all, of the Lord whose presence alone had blessed the earth.