Akrura’s heart swelled with anticipation as he journeyed toward Vraja, his mind absorbed in thoughts of Krishna. He reflected upon the divine feet of the Lord—those feet worshipped by Brahmā, Śiva, and all the gods, by the goddess Śrī herself, by sages, and by the noble Sātvatas. These feet wandered the forests of Vraja, accompanied by Krishna’s companions as they tended the cows, and bore the saffron marks from the gopīs’ loving embrace. With longing, Akrura imagined beholding the face of Mukunda—his beautiful cheeks and nose, his smiling glance, those reddish lotus eyes framed by curling locks of hair, around which even deer seemed to circumambulate in reverence. He hoped that, on this day, his eyes would finally attain their highest purpose: to gaze upon Viṣṇu, who had taken human form by His own will to relieve the earth’s burden, who was the very abode of beauty. Akrura contemplated the Lord he was about to see—free from ego and duality, yet dispelling ignorance by His own radiance. By His māyā, Krishna is perceived in the homes of all beings, through their life, senses, and intellect. The words of Krishna, filled with auspicious qualities, deeds, and birth, destroy all inauspiciousness, enlivening and purifying the world. Yet, Akrura thought, those who remain indifferent to such words are like beautiful corpses. He rejoiced that Krishna had descended in the lineage of the Sātvatas, bringing joy to the gods who guard their realms. The Lord, spreading His fame, dwelt in Vraja, where the gods themselves sang His all-auspicious deeds. Today, Akrura hoped, he would see with his own eyes at dawn the very goal of the great, the teacher, the delight of the three worlds, the festival for the eyes, bearing a form that is the desired abode of Śrī. He imagined Krishna descending from the chariot with the Lord, and wished to obtain for himself the feet that even yogis hold in their minds. He resolved to bow to those feet, as would Krishna’s friends and the dwellers of the forest. Perhaps, he thought, the Lord would place His own lotus hand upon his head as he fell at His feet, granting fearlessness to those terrified by the serpent of Time and seeking refuge. That touch had empowered Kauśika (Viśvāmitra) and Bali, who attained lordship of the three worlds through worship, or, in play, had soothed the fatigue of the women of Vraja with His fragrant hand. Acyuta, the all-seeing, would not regard Akrura with enmity, even though he came as Kaṁsa’s messenger, for the Lord perceives with pure vision all that is done, within and without, by the mind. Perhaps Krishna would look upon him, fallen at His feet with folded hands, with a gentle, smiling, compassionate gaze, and at once, all his sins would be destroyed, replaced by fearless joy. Then, Krishna, the best of friends, his kinsman, his only deity, would embrace him with broad arms, sanctifying him and dispelling the bondage born of karma. Akrura hoped that, bowing with folded hands, he would attain the touch of Krishna’s limbs, and that Krishna would speak to him. He lamented that, though born as humans, if they were not honored by Krishna, such a birth would be condemned. He reflected that Krishna had no one as dearest, no best friend, nor anyone unloved or neglected; yet, just as the wish-fulfilling tree grants to those who approach it, so does Krishna favor His devotees. As Akrura approached, the eldest and foremost among the Yadus, smiling, embraced him, led him into the house where all honors had been arranged, and inquired about the troubles caused by Kaṁsa among his relatives. Śuka continued, telling King Parikṣit that, thus absorbed in meditation on Krishna, Akrura arrived at Gokula by chariot, just as the sun reaches the western mountain. There, in the cowherd settlement, Akrura saw the footprints of the one whose dust is worn by all the rulers of the worlds upon their crowns, distinguished by marks such as the lotus, barleycorn, and goad. Filled with joy and reverent excitement, his eyes overwhelmed with tears and his hair standing on end from love, Akrura descended from his chariot and moved among the footprints, exclaiming, “Ah! These are the dust of the Lord’s feet!” For embodied beings, the greatest benefit is to abandon pride, fear, and sorrow, first achieved by seeing, hearing, and other forms of contact with the signs of Hari. Soon, Akrura saw Krishna and Rama in Vraja, returning from the cow-milking, wearing yellow and blue garments, their eyes like autumn lotuses. They were youthful, one dark and one fair, abodes of beauty, with broad arms, handsome faces, splendid forms, and the strength and gait of young elephants. The great souls, with feet marked by banners, thunderbolts, goads, and lotuses, adorned Vraja, their glances smiling and full of compassion. Noble and charming in play, adorned with garlands and forest wreaths, their bodies were anointed with sacred fragrances, bathed, and clad in spotless garments. These two, the primeval Purushas, causes and lords of the world, had descended for the sake of the earth, as Balarama and Keshava, with their own portions. They dispelled the darkness in all directions with their own radiance, like an emerald mountain and a silver one adorned with gold. Overwhelmed with affection, Akrura swiftly leapt from the chariot and fell prostrate at the feet of Rama and Krishna. Overjoyed at the sight of the Lord, his eyes streaming with tears and his body covered with goosebumps, he was so eager that he could not even speak his own name. The Lord, approaching him, marked by the chariot wheel upon his hand, embraced him, drawing him near with affection, for He is fond of those who bow before Him. Sankarshana, of great mind, embraced Akrura, took his hand in his own, and together with Krishna, led him into the house. After asking about his welfare and offering him a seat of honor, they washed his feet according to custom and brought the honey-mixture as a welcome gift. Presenting a cow to Akrura and respectfully massaging his tired limbs, the Lord offered him abundant, pure food with devotion. When he had eaten, Rama, the supreme knower of dharma, again honored him with scents and garlands used in sacrifices. Nanda then, having duly honored Akrura, asked, “How are you faring in this place without kindness, while Kaṁsa still lives, O Dāśārha? Are we not like cowherds under a cruel master?” He lamented, “That wicked one who killed his own nephews, even as their mothers cried out in anguish—how could there be well-being for you and your people, we wonder?” Thus, honored by Nanda with sincere words and kindly questioned, Akrura let go of the fatigue of his journey. Śuka continued: Comfortably seated on a couch, honored by Rama and Krishna, Akrura attained all the desires he had cherished on the road. Indeed, what is unattainable when the Lord, the abode of fortune, is pleased? Yet, O King, those devoted to Him desire nothing at all. After the evening meal, the Blessed One, son of Devakī, inquired among His friends about Kaṁsa’s conduct and his latest intentions. Krishna, the Blessed Lord, spoke: “Dear one, gentle Akrura, welcome! May all be well with you. Is everything free from illness and misfortune among your relatives and kin?” Thus, with loving words, the Lord honored His devotee, fulfilling Akrura’s heart with joy.