As the sun cast its gentle rays over the pastures, Akrura arrived and beheld a wondrous sight: there, among the cows at milking time, stood Krishna, surrounded by playful calves. His complexion glowed like the tender petal of a newly blossomed blue lotus. His eyes, soft and indistinct as lotus petals, shone with serenity. Upon his broad, elevated chest gleamed the sacred Srivatsa mark, and his long arms reached gracefully downward. Krishna’s face, radiant and lotus-like, was adorned with a captivating smile. His feet, their high nails tinged red, were firmly set upon the earth. He wore yellow garments, and forest flowers crowned his form; in one hand he held a blue creeper, and a white lotus served as his ornament. His attire alternated between white, pure as swans, jasmine, and the moon, and blue cloth. Nearby stood Balabhadra—Balarama—the delight of the Yadus, his arms raised in joy, his face shining like a lotus, surrounded by a garland of clouds, majestic as Mount Kailasa itself. Upon seeing Krishna and Balarama, Akrura’s heart blossomed like a lotus at sunrise. His entire body thrilled with joy, and he was overcome with emotion. “This,” he thought, “is the supreme light, the highest state, where the portion of the blessed Vasudeva stands firm. My eyes have fulfilled their purpose, having gazed upon the sustainer of the universe. May my body, by the Blessed One’s grace, also be blessed by contact with his sacred limbs. Will this glorious, infinite form touch my back with his lotus hand—a touch that destroys all sin and grants imperishable perfection?” He marveled at Krishna, whose mere presence cast away the fierce, terrifying rays of evil, much as a flash of lightning scatters darkness, blinding the wicked. He remembered how Bali, by surrendering water to Krishna, gained prosperity on earth, immortality, lordship over the gods, and an entire Manvantara free from enemies. Akrura wondered, “Though I have become a vessel of faults through my association with Kamsa, and am despised by the good, will he still accept me, who am stricken with dishonor?” He reflected further, “What in this world is unknown to him, who is the embodiment of all knowledge, pure existence, ever manifest, free from all faults, and dwelling in the hearts of all beings? Therefore, with a heart humbled by devotion, I approach the Lord of all lords, the portion of the Supreme Person, Vishnu, who is without beginning, middle, or end.” With these thoughts, Akrura approached Govinda and humbly introduced himself: “I am Akrura.” Bowing his head at Krishna’s feet, he was received with affection. Krishna, whose hands bore the auspicious marks of banner, thunderbolt, and lotus, touched Akrura, drew him close, and embraced him tightly. After proper greetings, Balarama and Krishna led him into their house. There, after exchanging courtesies, Akrura partook of food as was proper. Afterwards, he recounted everything: how Kamsa, son of Ugrasena, oppressed them all, how Devaki was tormented by that evil-natured demon, and how Kamsa behaved wickedly towards Ugrasena. He explained the purpose for which he had been sent, along with Kamsa’s army. Krishna, the blessed slayer of Keshi, listened intently and replied, “All this, O lord of gifts, is already known to me. I will do what is appropriate; know for certain that Kamsa will be slain by me—there is no other way. Tomorrow, O Rama, we shall go to Mathura together with you. The elders among the cowherds will also accompany us, bringing many gifts. Rest tonight, O hero; do not worry. Within three nights, I will slay Kamsa and his followers.” With these words, Krishna gave instructions to the cowherds. Then, Akrura, Krishna, and Balabhadra rested happily that night in the house of Nanda, the chief cowherd. At dawn, as the sky cleared, Krishna and Rama, together with Akrura, prepared joyfully for their journey to Mathura. The cowherd women, witnessing their preparations, felt their hearts sink. Their bracelets slipped from their arms as they sighed in distress, speaking among themselves in sorrowful tones: “When Govinda reaches Mathura, how will he return to Gokula? He will delight in the sweet words of the city women. Once his mind has tasted their playful speech, how will it turn back to us, the cowherd girls?” They lamented, “By fate, Hari—the very essence of our village—is being taken away, and we are abandoned by one so heartless. The city women’s words, their graceful gaits, and sidelong glances are truly extraordinary. This playful Hari, so dear to us, by which of us will he return? Now Keshava mounts the chariot and goes to Mathura, deceived by the cruel Akrura, who has no hope. Does he not know how devoted we are, that he takes away Hari, who delights our eyes?” “Govinda, merciless, departs with Rama, mounting the chariot. Someone—stop him quickly! But why do we even speak before our elders? It is not proper. What can elders do for those already burning in the fire of separation? The cowherds, led by Nanda, are ready to depart, yet none tries to bring Govinda back. Tonight, the women of Mathura, their eyes adorned with collyrium, will rejoice as they drink in the lotus face of Acyuta. Blessed are those who travel with Krishna; merely seeing him, their bodies will erupt in goosebumps.” Thus, amidst joy and sorrow, Krishna, Balarama, and Akrura prepared to depart, leaving the hearts of the cowherd women filled with longing as the Lord made ready to fulfill his destiny in Mathura.