As the mighty Bala stood in the palm grove, he fiercely struck the donkey-demon Dhenuka on the chest with his powerful hind legs. Yet, even after such a blow, Dhenuka was not subdued. Bala seized him, spun him around, and in that dizzying motion, Dhenuka's life left him, vanishing into the air. With great force, Bala hurled the demon onto the king of grasses, and in that moment, a fierce wind swept through the grove, causing ripe fruits to tumble from the tops of the palm trees, just as a powerful gust scatters the clouds in the sky. Balabhadra, with effortless strength, then cast down the other donkey-shaped Daityas—Dhenuka’s kin—who had come to avenge him. In but a moment, O Maitreya, the earth was transformed, adorned with heaps of ripe palm fruits and the bodies of the donkey-demons, shining all the more beautifully. The cows, now free from fear, grazed joyfully in the palm grove, savoring the fresh grass that had never been tasted before. With the destruction of Dhenuka and his followers, the palm grove became a place of delight, charming to the cowherds and their women. Filled with joy after slaying the demon, both sons of Vasudeva—Krishna and Bala—made their way to the great banyan tree called Bhāṇḍīra. They called out to each other, sang songs, searched for trees, tended their cows from afar, and playfully called one another by name as they wandered through the forest. Ropes for binding calves hung from their shoulders, and garlands of wild flowers adorned them. They shone like young bullocks with budding horns. Their garments were dusted with golden and black powders, and, bearing Indra’s weapons, they resembled white and dark clouds drifting across the sky. As lords of all worlds, they roamed the earth, engaging in playful games with the perfected beings, delighting in human ways and honoring their human form. They wandered the forest, playing games suited to their age and nature. The two mighty brothers exercised there, swinging from branches, wrestling, and tossing stones in friendly competition. While they enjoyed themselves, the Asura Pralamba, disguised as a cowherd, approached, intent on killing them. Without arousing suspicion, Pralamba mingled among the boys, taking on a human form and blending in as an ordinary man. He sought an opportunity, knowing Krishna was invincible, and resolved instead to kill Bala, the son of Rohini. The children began playing a game called ‘Hari’s sport,’ forming pairs and rising together. Govinda paired with Śrīdāmā, Bala with Pralamba, and the other cowherds paired with one another. The game began in earnest, and Krishna defeated Śrīdāmā, Bala overcame Pralamba, and the cowherds on Krishna’s side were victorious, while the others were defeated. As part of the game, the winners carried the losers to the banyan tree Bhāṇḍīra, and all those who had lost returned to their place. Suddenly, Pralamba, the demon, swiftly lifted Saṃkarṣaṇa onto his shoulder and sped away through the sky, like a cloud carrying the moon. Unable to bear the weight of Rohini’s son, Pralamba grew in size, swelling like a great cloud in the rainy season. Saṃkarṣaṇa saw the demon’s true form: as radiant as a burning mountain, adorned with garlands, ornaments, and a crown shining atop his head. With a fierce appearance and eyes like cartwheels, Pralamba shook the earth with his giant steps. Fearless, Saṃkarṣaṇa, being carried away, called out to Krishna: “Krishna, Krishna! I am being carried off by this demon, who has taken the form of a cowherd. His body is tall as a mountain—look! Tell me, Madhusūdana, what should be done now, for this wicked one, filled with great haste, is taking me away.” Govinda, the great soul, knowing the measure of Rohini’s son’s strength and power, smiled gently and spoke to Rāma. “Why do you so clearly assume this human disposition, you who are the innermost self of all, the secret of all secrets? Remember, O ancient one, cause of all causes and seed of the entire world, your true self—one alone, just as that which is in the single cosmic ocean. Do you not know that both you and I are the one cause of the earth, and have come to the mortal world for the purpose of relieving its burden? The sky is your head, the rivers your hair, the earth your feet, your mouth the endless fire; the moon is your mind, your breath is the wind, and the four directions are your imperishable arms. The blessed Lord, the great soul, has a thousand faces, a thousand hands and feet, and countless forms; the origin of a thousand lotuses, the first-born—by thousands, sages praise you. No one else, not even all the gods, knows your divine form, your form of descent; that is why it is worshipped. Do you not know that in the end, the universe dissolves into you alone? By you this earth is supported, O infinite form, bearing all that moves and does not move. Unborn one, you are time itself, the beginning of moments, and you are this world, manifesting in various forms from the beginning of creation. Just as water is consumed by the submarine fire, takes the form of snow, and then, joined with the rays of the sun on the snowy mountain, again becomes water—so too, when you withdraw, this entire world is absorbed into you; and when you are intent on creation, O Lord, the world again arises from you, beyond imagination. You and I, O soul of the universe, are truly one cause; for the sake of this world, we stand distinct in form. Recall me, the immeasurable Self; destroy the demon with your own self. Rely only on your human form, and act for the welfare of your kin.” Thus reminded by the great-souled Krishna, Bala laughed, and with renewed strength, began to torment Pralamba, the demon, with his might.