Having taken the solemn oath, the truthful cow was released by the lord of beasts. Filled with love for her calf, she departed, her heart heavy. Tears welled in her eyes as she made her way home, her body trembling with distress and sorrow so deep it seemed boundless. She let out a long, mournful lowing, as if she had fallen into an ocean of grief, like an elephant trapped by the foot in a muddy pit, unable to save herself, lamenting again and again. At last, she reached the cow-pen on the bank of the golden river. Hearing her calf’s plaintive cries, she ran straight to him. When she came near, she found her little one, his eyes brimming with tears. The calf, seeing his mother’s troubled face, anxiously questioned her, “Mother, you do not seem at ease today, nor do I see any steadiness in you. Your gaze is anxious, and you appear very frightened. What troubles you so?” Nanda, his mother, replied gently, “Drink, my son, the nourishing milk. If you ask the reason for my sorrow, I am unable to tell you. Satisfy yourself as you wish, for this is your last and rare chance to see your mother. After drinking today, in the morning, whose milk will you drink? My son, I must leave you, for I am bound by oaths. I must give my own life to the hungry and thirsty tiger.” Hearing these words, the calf spoke with resolve, “Mother, I will go wherever you wish to go. It would be praiseworthy for me to die with you, without doubt. Even alone, suffering, I would have to die without you. If the tiger kills me along with you in the forest, surely I will attain the destiny reserved for those devoted to their mothers. Therefore, I will certainly go with you, without doubt. Or else, mother, you stay; let those oaths be mine instead. What is the use of life for one separated from his mother? In the forest, who will be my protector, always orphaned? There is no relative like a mother for young ones who live on milk. There is no protector like a mother, no refuge like a mother. There is no affection like a mother’s, no face like a mother’s. There is no god like a mother in this world or the next. Thus, this is the supreme duty established by the Lord of Creatures: those sons who remain always with their mothers attain the highest state.” Nanda replied, her voice sorrowful but firm, “My death alone is ordained, my son; you will not go. Nor does the death of one living being occur by the death meant for another. This is your last and highest message from your mother, my son. Remain here, following my words; later, serve me again. Whether in water or on land, do not be careless, my child. All beings perish from carelessness, without doubt. And never, out of greed, should you reach for grass in a dangerous place. From greed comes destruction for all, in this world and the next. Deluded by greed, people enter the ocean or the forest. Even a wise person may commit terrible acts out of greed. From greed, carelessness, and overconfidence, destruction comes to people. Therefore, one should not be greedy, careless, or overly trusting. One must always protect oneself, my son, with effort—from all wild beasts, and from the dangers of foreigners, thieves, and the like. Even when animals, those of sinful birth, dwell together, their minds are known to be contrary, my child. You should not place trust in those with claws, in rivers, in those with horns, in those who bear weapons, in women, or in servants. Do not trust one who is untrustworthy, nor trust excessively one who is trustworthy; fear arises from trust, and it can cut even the roots. One should not trust even one’s own body, though strong, when the mind is fearful; people reveal secrets when asleep, intoxicated, or careless. Scent should always be carefully examined everywhere; cows perceive by scent, and kings by the eyes of their spies. No one should remain alone in a dreadful forest; one should contemplate only righteousness, and you should not be disturbed, for death is certain for all. Just as a traveler, taking shelter in the shade, rests and then departs again, so too is the meeting of beings. My son, since the whole world is always like this, why do you grieve alone? Therefore, abandoning sorrow, follow my words.” With deep love, she smelled her son’s head and licked his crown, her eyes overflowing with tears, overwhelmed by grief. She sighed again and again, her breath long and hot, like a serpent’s, seeing the world as empty without her son. Standing as if mired in deep mud, Nandini, sinking down, lamented and spoke once more to her child, “There is no affection like that for a son, no happiness like that of a son; there is no joy like that of a son, nor any destiny like that of a son. For one without a son, the world is empty; for one without a son, there is no happiness at home; by a son one attains the world, but the sonless goes to hell. People say that sandalwood is cool, but the embrace of a son’s body is cooler than sandalwood.” Thus, having spoken of her son’s virtues, she gazed again and again at her mother, her friends, and the cowherd women gathered there. Then, hurriedly, she explained, “The lord of the beasts approached me as I walked at the front of the herd. I was released by him through oaths, and I will return there again.