He, recalling the memories of his past birth, undertook great austerities with unwavering resolve, and through the power of his penance, he was granted a boon that destined him to obtain you. Now, O beautiful and auspicious one, you are to become his wife. Yet, by the curse of Narayana himself, and through a divine arrangement, you will take on a special role—a portion of your being shaped by higher will. You shall become the foremost among all flowers, dearer to Vishnu than life itself. In the sacred land of Vrindavana, you will assume the form of a tree and be known as Vrinda. As the goddess who presides over all trees, you will ever remain in the company of Krishna. Upon hearing these words, she smiled, her heart brimming with joy. Then Tula spoke, addressing her father: “I speak the truth, O father, it is not so with the four-armed one. I am not satisfied with Govinda, for fate has interrupted the fulfillment of my longing. Yet, by his grace, Govinda—who is so rarely attained—will once more be found by me.” Brahma, hearing this, offered his boon: “By my blessing, you will become as dear to her as life itself. Radhika will decree that your love remains a secret, known only to the two of you.” Having spoken thus, Brahma bestowed upon the goddess the sacred sixteen-syllable mantra, and he imparted to her the complete method of worship and the prescribed rites of preparation. Following Brahma’s instructions, she journeyed to the holy hermitage of Badarikā, where she devoted herself to the worship for twelve divine years. With steadfastness, she performed the prescribed austerities and chanted the mantra until, at last, her efforts bore fruit and she received the boon she had so earnestly desired. Her mind now at peace, the goddess let go of the fatigue that had built up during her long penance. She ate and drank, feeling satisfied, and then lay down to rest. At this moment, Narayana spoke: The excellent woman, now radiant with renewed youth, was praised. Then, the five-arrowed god—Kamadeva—shot his five arrows at her. Instantly, her entire body was covered in goosebumps, she trembled, and her eyes turned red with emotion. For a moment she felt anxious, then a wave of pleasant drowsiness washed over her. She drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes feeling despondent, sometimes wandering in distress, departing and returning to herself again and again. The bed of flowers and sandalwood on which she lay seemed suddenly to bristle with thorns. The dwelling itself lost its form, and her fine garment felt like burning fire. In a moment of drowsiness, she saw a man, splendidly adorned, approach her. His body was covered in sandalwood paste and jeweled ornaments glittered on him. He spoke to her of love’s delights, kissing her lips again and again. Then, she saw Vasantaka, the companion of spring, appear and disappear before her eyes. Regaining her senses, she lamented repeatedly, her heart caught between longing and confusion. Meanwhile, Shankhachuda, the great yogi, beloved by the Jaigishavyas, was always engaged in reciting the sacred protective hymn—the most auspicious among all auspicious things. By Brahma’s command, he too arrived at the hermitage of Badari. He was endowed with youthful vigor and shone with a radiance like that of Kamadeva himself. His complexion glowed like white champaka flowers, and he was adorned with dazzling jeweled ornaments. Seated in a celestial chariot fashioned from precious gems, he appeared utterly charming, wearing garlands of fragrant parijata blossoms and smiling beautifully. When she saw him approach, she modestly covered her face with her garment, her heart stirred by the moment’s destiny.