On the banks of a sacred river, a wicked-souled man once beheld a gathering of Brahmins, all devoted to the service of the Lord. These Brahmins, having worshipped Janardana, began to converse with one another, their hearts brimming with curiosity and devotion. “Today I have offered champaka flowers,” said one, while another proclaimed, “I have given betel leaves to Murari.” Yet another declared, “Betel leaves should never be eaten in any birth; today I have offered the finest plantain fruit to Hari.” A fourth Brahmin added, “For many lifetimes I have eaten plantain fruit; but now, I have given it to Hari.” Others spoke of giving pomegranates and the finest mangoes to the Lord. Listening to their words, the wicked man pondered deeply: “What can I offer to Vishnu? Of all edible things in the world, I possess them, yet I am unable to relinquish anything. What shall I give to Murari? I am a thief, dwelling in the forest, ever fearful of the king. I have never even had the right to ride in a cart.” Again and again, he lamented his plight, until finally he resolved, “I have given a cart to Hari, the bestower of the four aims of life.” After this, the Brahmins departed as they had come, and the bandit, too, returned to his refuge with his companions. One day, following the same path, he arrived at Gudakandola. There, a traveler carrying a load reached Kakimandala, and the bandit, bold and violent, seized a lump of jaggery from a honey seller. The robbers broke the lump, and the portion shaped like a cart fell to the lot of the king Urvīśu. As Urvīśu approached the jaggery cart, he remembered the words: “That offering was once given by me to Murari.” Reflecting, he thought, “This offering should not be accepted by me in this life.” Thus resolved, he decided to give the jaggery cart as an offering. He presented it to a Brahmin for the pleasure of Mādhava. Recognizing his devotion, even though he was a great sinner, Janārdana was instantly pleased and removed all his sins. That very day, the Brahmin entered the great forest. Soon after, the townspeople, enraged, slew Urvīśu. But the Lord, full of compassion, sent a golden chariot to fetch him, dispatching messengers adorned with splendid ornaments. These divine envoys found Urvīśu after his departure from the world, placed him in the chariot, and swiftly carried him to Hari’s celestial city. There, he attained the blessed presence of Hari, the best among the virtuous. For a hundred ages, Urvīśu remained in the divine company of Keśava, gaining supreme knowledge, until finally he merged into the very form of Hari. Vyāsa then declared: By whatever means one cultivates devotion to Hari, one crosses the ocean of worldly existence as a royal swan glides over water. Even if devotion to Hari should arise for but a moment in someone’s heart, that person attains the supreme abode—even a sinner may reach it. By offering even a single excellent thing to Murāri, one must later partake of it oneself for the pacification of sin. Whatever is given to Hari should also be given to a Brahmin; what remains should not be consumed by oneself—this is always taught by the wise. O best of Brahmins, all desirable things, unless first offered to Viṣṇu, should not be consumed by Vaiṣṇavas. The greatness of offerings to Viṣṇu is that they destroy all sin. Now, listen further to the story. There was a Brahmin named Sarvajanī, born of pure lineage—peaceful, self-controlled, compassionate, devoted to his teachers and to Brahmins. He was steadfast in worshipping Hari and constant in remembering Him, relieving the sufferings of those who sought refuge, always truthful, and master of his senses. He bathed at dawn, performed his daily duties, refrained from violence, observed the vow of Ekadashi, and honored his relatives. One night, O best of the twice-born, Sarvajanī saw Keshava in a dream—a dark-hued Lord with spotless, lotus-like eyes, a gentle smile, and clad in yellow garments. The Lord’s radiant form was adorned with golden earrings, anklets, and a crown; his chest shone with the Kaustubha gem and was decorated with a garland of forest flowers. Sarvajanī saw the Lord with four arms, holding the conch, discus, mace, and lotus, marked with all auspicious signs and wearing a golden sacred thread. Filled with joy, his hair standing on end, Sarvajanī folded his palms and praised the Lord: “Salutations to You, Lord of all worlds, destroyer of sorrow, fear, and disease for all beings! O Narayana, beloved of Lakshmi’s heart, giver of the supreme nectar—righteousness, prosperity, desire, and liberation. All the sins I have committed, O enemy of Mura, have been done out of intoxication and delusion. I fear the deep ocean of worldly existence—lift me up by granting me the boat of Your devotion. “Though I know, O Hari, that deluded humans incur sin on earth, still I always commit evil with pleasure; truly, there is no one as foolish as I am. The tree of merit quickly bears the fruit of happiness, but what do I know, O slayer of Naraka? I am a sinner. I have no wealth for offering flower-trees; O Lord, be gracious—what can I do? “Forsaking Your pair of lotus feet, the abode of supreme nectar, my mind, like a bee, ever wanders to the faces of women, which bestow only death, smeared always with mucus, deluded like a bee after a lotus.” Thus, through the stories of the sinful bandit and the pure Brahmin, the greatness of devotion to Hari is revealed: even the smallest offering, given with devotion, leads to liberation; and the Lord, in His compassion, lifts all sincere souls from the ocean of suffering to His blissful presence.