As Dhruva entered his father’s palace, the virtuous women of the household, moved by affection, offered him their heartfelt blessings. Their sweet, innocent songs echoed through the halls, filling the air with joy as he walked in. The palace itself was a marvel—magnificent and radiant, adorned with clusters of great jewels that sparkled in the light. There, Dhruva was cherished immensely by his father, King Uttānapāda, and dwelled like a god in heaven, surrounded by splendor. Within the palace, every comfort was provided. The beds were white as milk foam, adorned with golden ornaments. The seats were of the finest quality, and all the furnishings gleamed with gold. The walls, made of crystal and studded with great emeralds, were illuminated by jeweled lamps—some fashioned from the very ornaments of the women of the palace. Beyond the palace walls stretched enchanting gardens, filled with wondrous celestial trees. There, pairs of birds cooed sweetly, and intoxicated bees sang as they flitted from flower to flower. In the midst of these gardens were ponds, their steps crafted from deep blue lapis lazuli. The water teemed with blooming lotuses, water lilies, and kumuda flowers, while swans, cranes, and chakravaka ducks glided gracefully across the surface. King Uttānapāda, the royal sage, was filled with the highest wonder as he witnessed the extraordinary glory of his son. Seeing Dhruva grown, beloved by the people, and approved by the ministers, the king made him lord of the earth. Recognizing his own advancing age, King Uttānapāda, detached from worldly pleasures, set out for the forest to contemplate the path of his soul, entrusting the kingdom to his worthy son. Some time later, in the sacred assembly at Naimiṣāraṇya, Śaunaka inquired of Sūta, “O best of the righteous, after Yudhiṣṭhira had defeated his enemies who coveted his kingdom and wealth, and was secure with his brothers, what did he do next? How did he proceed?” Sūta replied, “The Lord Hari, creator of the world, restored the Kuru dynasty, which had been devastated by the fire of internal strife. Having established Yudhiṣṭhira in his rightful kingdom, Hari was pleased at heart. Yudhiṣṭhira, having heard the wise counsel of Bhīṣma and Acyuta, had his doubts removed by true knowledge. Supported by his unconquered brothers, he ruled the earth like Indra, the king of heaven. Under his just reign, the clouds rained as desired, the earth yielded all that was wished for, and the cows joyfully drenched the villages with abundant milk. Rivers, oceans, mountains, forests, and all the plants and herbs produced their fruits as desired. No ailments, diseases, or troubles—whether from fate, other beings, or oneself—afflicted the creatures during the reign of King Yudhiṣṭhira, whose enemy was never born. Hari, having stayed for a few months in Hastināpura to bring joy to his friends and please his beloved sister, prepared to depart. After taking leave and being permitted to go, he embraced and bowed to his dear ones. Some embraced him in return, others honored him as he ascended his chariot. Present at his departure were Subhadrā, Draupadī, Kuntī, the daughter of Virāṭa, Gāndhārī, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Yuyutsu, Kripa, and the twins Nakula and Sahadeva. Vṛkodara (Bhīma), Dhaumya, and the women, including the daughter of the King of Matsya, were bewildered and distraught, unable to bear the separation from Kṛṣṇa, the wielder of the Śārṅga bow. Freed from bad company by association with the virtuous, a wise person cannot abandon it, once having heard the delightful fame of the Lord. How could the sons of Pṛthā, whose minds were fixed on Him, endure the separation—after seeing, touching, conversing, lying down, sitting, and eating with Him? Their hearts rushed after Him as He departed, and with unblinking eyes, bound by affection, they wandered here and there, following Him. The women of the family, their hearts full of longing for Devakī’s son, restrained their streaming tears, thinking, ‘Let no inauspiciousness occur as He leaves the house.’ The air was filled with the sounds of mṛdaṅgas, conches, bherīs, vīṇās, paṇavas, gomukhas, dhundhuris, ānakas, bells, and dundubhis, all resounding in celebration. The noble women of the Kurus, eager to see Kṛṣṇa, climbed to the tops of their palaces. Their eyes, smiling with love and modesty, they showered Him with flowers as He passed below. Guḍākeśa (Arjuna), the beloved friend, took up a white parasol adorned with a string of pearls and a jeweled handle, shading Kṛṣṇa. Uddhava and Sātyaki, with wonderful fans, fanned Madhupati as He shone on the road, being showered with flowers. Here and there, the twice-born uttered blessings—some appropriate, some not—addressed to Him who is beyond all qualities, yet whose essence encompasses all qualities. Among the women of the city, there arose captivating conversations, as their minds were absorbed in the Glorious One. They spoke: ‘Indeed, this very person is the ancient Being, who alone existed, undifferentiated, before creation, as the soul and Lord of the universe, His power dormant in the night of dissolution. Again, impelled by His own will, He desired to create, assigning names and forms to the formless Self, and set the scriptures in motion. That very abode, which the sages—having conquered their senses and the wind—behold with purified minds and overflowing devotion, is surely this Being, worthy to purify all existence. He, whose friendship is sung, whose sacred stories are told in the Vedas and in secret by those who know the mysteries, is the sole Lord, the soul of the universe, who by His play creates, maintains, and destroys, yet remains unattached to these acts. Whenever kings of darkened minds rule by unrighteousness, He assumes forms among the Sātvatas, bearing fortune, truth, compassion, and fame, for the welfare of the world, age after age. How praiseworthy is the lineage of Yadu! How supremely holy is the forest of Madhu, where this foremost of men, the Lord of Śrī, delights by His birth and wandering. Kuśasthalī, which eclipses the fame of heaven and brings virtue to the earth, is blessed, for its people constantly behold their Lord’s smiling, glancing face by His grace. Surely, the Lord has been worshipped by these women through vows, ritual baths, offerings, and other observances, for He has taken their hands in marriage. Repeatedly drinking the nectar of His affectionate speech, the women of Vraja became utterly absorbed in Him. Those whom He won at their own svayamvara by the price of His valor, after subduing powerful kings like Shishupala, and those maidens, daughters of kings such as Pradyumna and Samba, whom He rescued by slaying Bhauma, were brought to Him by the thousands. These women, though they had abandoned all decorum and purity, have indeed attained the highest womanhood, for their lotus-eyed husband never departs from their homes, touching their hearts with His presence.’ As the women of the city spoke thus, Hari, with a smiling glance, acknowledged their words and proceeded on His way, leaving hearts overflowing with devotion and wonder in His wake.