O Lord, You are Your own refuge, established in Yourself alone. At the dawn of creation, through Your own māyā, You brought forth the guṇas—those fundamental qualities of nature. With these, O Lord of unwavering resolve, You create, sustain, and ultimately dissolve the universe, all by Your will. Thus, You have descended to earth to relieve her of her burdens—to vanquish the demons, tormentors, and Rākṣasas who oppress her, and to protect those who are virtuous and good. By great fortune, You have already, in playful sport, slain the demon who took the form of a horse, whose terrifying neigh sent fear even among the gods, causing those who never sleep to abandon their heavenly abodes. Very soon—tomorrow or perhaps the day after—I shall witness You, O Lord, destroy Cāṇūra, Muṣṭika, and other mighty wrestlers, the elephant, and the wicked Kaṃsa himself. After this, You will defeat Śaṅkha, Yavana, Murā, and Naraka; You will reclaim the celestial Pārijāta tree and even humble Indra, king of the gods. Your valor will win You the hands of heroic maidens in marriage, and You will liberate King Nṛga from his ancient curse in the city of Dvārakā, O Lord of the world. You will obtain the Syamantaka jewel along with its noble wife, and from Your own abode, You will restore the dead son to a grieving Brahmin. You will slay Pauṇḍraka, burn the city of Kāśī, destroy Dantavakra, and bring about the death of Śiśupāla at the great sacrifice. Whatever other wondrous deeds You perform while residing in Dvārakā, O Lord, I shall witness them all—deeds that poets across the earth celebrate in song. Now, I am about to witness the destruction of these assembled armies, for You, the very embodiment of Time and annihilation, have Arjuna as Your charioteer. Upon You, O Lord—dense with pure knowledge, ever established in Your own nature, whose every purpose is fulfilled and whose desires never fail, who is forever free from illusion by Your own splendor, and who is the very source of all qualities—we meditate. I bow before You, the Lord and refuge of all beings, who, by Your own power of illusion, have created all distinctions and, for the sake of divine play, have assumed a human form as the foremost among the Yadus, Vṛṣṇis, and Sātvatas. Having thus offered his reverence to Kṛṣṇa, chief of the Yadus, the foremost sage among devotees, took his leave, his heart delighted by the vision he had received. Meanwhile, Lord Govinda, having slain the demon Keśin in battle, returned to the joyful company of the cowherds, tending the cows and bringing happiness to all of Vraja. One day, as the cowherds grazed their cattle on the green slopes of the mountain, they began to play a lively game, dividing themselves into teams of thieves, protectors, and sheep. Some became thieves, some cowherds, and some sheep, all playing together, carefree and fearless. Among them, Vyoma, the son of Maya and master of illusion, disguised himself as a cowherd. Acting as the leader of the sheep, he cunningly led away many of those playing as thieves. The great demon, having gathered them, cast them into a mountain cave, leaving only four or five behind, and sealed the entrance with a massive rock. But Kṛṣṇa, the ever-compassionate refuge of the virtuous, perceived the demon’s wickedness. As Vyoma attempted to lead away more cowherds, Kṛṣṇa seized him, just as a lion might seize a wolf. The demon, abandoning his disguise, assumed his true, gigantic form, as vast as a mountain, and struggled mightily to escape, but Kṛṣṇa’s grasp was unbreakable. Acyuta subdued Vyoma with His powerful arms, threw him down, and, as the gods watched from the heavens, slew the slayer of cattle. Breaking open the sealed entrance of the cave, He freed the imprisoned cowherds, though it was no easy task. Praised by the gods and the cowherds alike, Kṛṣṇa returned to His beloved Vraja. Thus concludes the thirty-seventh chapter, “The Slaying of Vyomāsura,” in the first half of the tenth book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture revered by the paramahaṃsas. Now, Śuka continued: In Mathurā, the wise Akrūra spent the night, and at dawn, he mounted his chariot and set out for Nanda’s Gokula. As he traveled the road, his heart awakened with devotion for the Lord with lotus eyes, and he reflected deeply: “What good deed have I performed, what great austerity have I practiced, or what worthy gift have I given, that today I am blessed to behold Keśava? This vision of the Lord, famed in all the worlds, is most rare for me—just as the chanting of the sacred Brahman is rare for one born as a śūdra, attached to sense pleasures. May it not be that, even for one as fallen as myself, the vision of Acyuta is denied; for sometimes, even one being swept away by the river of Time finds a way to cross over. Today, my misfortune is destroyed, and my very existence has borne fruit, for I shall bow to the Lord’s lotus feet—the object of meditation for the greatest yogis. Indeed, today Kaṃsa has unwittingly shown me the highest favor, for I shall see the lotus feet of Hari, who has descended as an incarnation. It was once the radiance of His toenails that dispelled the impenetrable darkness that even the ancients could not cross. Those feet are worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, and all the gods, by the goddess Śrī, by sages, and by the Sātvatas. They wander the forests among the cows and cowherds, and are colored with the saffron of the gopīs’ breasts. Surely, I shall behold Mukunda’s beautiful face, with its charming cheeks and nose, its smiling, glancing, reddish lotus eyes, framed by curling locks, around which deer seem to circumambulate in reverence. Perhaps today, my eyes will finally attain their true purpose—to behold Viṣṇu Himself, who has taken on human form by His own will to relieve the earth’s burden, and who is the very abode of all beauty. He, whom I am about to see, though free from ego and duality, dispels the darkness of ignorance by His own radiance. By His māyā, He is perceived in the homes of all beings, through their life, senses, and intellect. His words—filled with auspicious qualities, deeds, and birth—destroy all inauspiciousness. They enliven, purify, and sanctify the world; those who ignore them are as beautiful corpses, alive in form but dead in spirit. He has descended in the lineage of the Sātvatas, delighting the best among the gods who guard their own realms. His fame spreads everywhere, and He dwells in Vraja, where the gods themselves sing of His all-auspicious deeds. Today, surely, I shall see Him—the goal of the great, the teacher, the delight of the three worlds, a festival for the eyes, bearing that form which is the cherished abode of Śrī. I shall see Him with my own eyes at the break of dawn. Then, as He descends from the chariot along with the Lord, I shall obtain for myself those feet that even the yogis hold in their hearts. I shall bow to them, as will His friends and the dwellers of the forest. Perhaps the Lord will place His own lotus hand upon my head as I fall at His feet, granting fearlessness to those who are terrified by the serpent of Time and seek His refuge. It was by that touch that Kauśika (Viśvāmitra) and Bali, having offered their worship, attained lordship over the three worlds. Or, in playful sport, He removed the fatigue of the women of Vraja by the touch of His fragrant hand.” Thus, with heart brimming with longing and devotion, Akrūra continued on his journey, eager for the blessed vision of the Lord.