Chapter 1: The Miracle of Midnight

In a humble prison cell, Devaki's heart was heavy with fear. "Oh Lord, protect us. What sin have I committed?" she cried softly, her voice trembling. "I will be the cause of Nanda's child's death. Kansa will kill this girl."

The rain poured relentlessly as Vasudeva, Devaki's husband, cradled the newborn girl in his arms. He had swapped their son with Yashoda's daughter in Gokul, and now he had to return before it was too late. The clouds thundered, lightning flashed, and the Yamuna river swelled with rainwater, but Vasudeva pressed on, unyielding. The guards in Mathura's dungeons lay in deep slumber, oblivious to the miracle unfolding around them. The baby in his arms remained silent as if understanding the gravity of the moment.

With great care, Vasudeva opened the iron bars and entered the cell where Devaki waited anxiously. Her eyes searched his face for reassurance. "Have you returned? Have you returned safely?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Was there any danger on the way? Is my son safe? Where is he?"

Vasudeva's voice was gentle, soothing. "No, Devaki, there was no danger. Be calm, be calm. Your son is safe. No one can touch him. Be calm, be calm, Devaki."

Devaki's heart ached with the weight of their sacrifice. "Don't cry, Devaki," Vasudeva urged softly. "There was no other way to save the boy. If you stayed here, maybe Kansa would have..." His voice trailed off, the unspoken horrors too terrible to voice.

"Not everything, Devaki, but at least he will live," Vasudeva continued, trying to offer some comfort. "That's the only solace we have. This girl is as beautiful as a flower, like Yashoda's daughter." He paused, a shiver of dread running through him. "Even such a beautiful, innocent girl will be killed by Kansa. Can he be so cruel? Won't his hand tremble a bit?"

"Yes," Devaki replied, her voice filled with despair. "A killer's heart has no pity. How much more sin must I witness in this life, only God knows. Will my son recognize me as his mother? Will I ever see him again? Oh God, what sin have I committed to deserve such a punishment, Lord?"

Vasudeva held her close, whispering, "Don't cry, Devaki, don't cry. Wait for tomorrow morning. Who knows what storm will come then?"

As dawn approached, the divine play of fate continued. Even after witnessing the power of Lord Narayan, Vasudeva and Devaki acted like ordinary people, lost in fear and worry. "Why are Vasudeva and Devaki acting like this, Acharyadev?" a disciple asked. "Don't they remember anything?"

"No, King," the wise Acharyadev replied. "They have forgotten everything. Their love has become stronger than their devotion. They are filled with fear and anxiety. This is all the play of divine illusion. If people always had divine knowledge, how would the divine play continue, Maharaja? That's why Vasudeva and Devaki are acting helpless."

Meanwhile, back in the prison, a miraculous event unfolded. Vasudeva read the sacred texts, and all the iron doors closed by themselves. The guards awoke, startled by the cry of a baby girl. "What is this?" one guard exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "Is that a baby crying?"

"Yes," another guard replied, excitement and fear in his voice. "That's what it sounds like. A baby is crying. The sound came from that prison. That means Princess Devaki's eighth child has been born. Let's go, let's go, we must tell the king immediately."

Kansa had been waiting for this moment, consumed by the prophecy that haunted him. He had almost given up eating and sleeping, his anxiety growing with each passing day. When a minister rushed in with the news of the crying baby, Kansa's heart skipped a beat. With a fierce determination, he leaped to his feet. "A baby's cry," he roared. "Devaki has given birth. The eighth child has arrived."

Chapter 2: The Prophecy Unfolds

Kamsa's heart raced as he barked orders to his officer, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "Where is the officer? Where is the officer?" he demanded, scanning the room with wild eyes.

The officer appeared swiftly, bowing deeply. "Here I am, give your orders, Maharaja."

Kamsa's eyes blazed with urgency. "Devaki has given birth. The child must be killed. Be ready. Come, minister, let's get rid of this eighth curse. I've waited so long for this. Only after ending this will I find peace."

With the ferocity of a raging elephant, Kamsa charged towards the prison. In his haste, he didn't even bother to don his royal robes, stumbling clumsily in his rush. His shouts echoed through the corridors, sending a shiver of terror down Devaki's spine. She clutched her newborn daughter tightly to her chest, her heart pounding with fear as she prayed silently to the gods for protection.

Vasudeva sat beside her, his head bowed in silent despair. He wondered desperately if there was any way to save Yashoda's daughter. His mind raced with worry, knowing the danger that loomed. As Kamsa approached, the guards swung the heavy prison door open, and he stormed in like a fierce giant.

"Where? Where is the eighth child?" Kamsa demanded, his eyes scanning the dimly lit cell. "Hand it over to me."

Devaki fell to her knees, her voice trembling with desperation. "Please forgive me, Maharaja," she pleaded. "My eighth child is a girl, King. Please spare this girl. She is so weak, what harm can she do to you, King? What harm?"

Kamsa's face twisted with impatience. "It's a girl, whether it's a boy or a girl, hand it over to me. I will kill this eighth curse and finally be at peace. Then I will have no more fear."

Devaki's voice cracked with sorrow and desperation. "You are a mighty and brave king. Why are you afraid of a girl, Your Majesty? You killed my little son, and I couldn't say anything. But please, save this girl, King. I am your younger sister, and I am begging you. Please, have mercy, King, have mercy."

Kamsa's hand reached out, his voice harsh and unyielding. "Give her to me, or I will take her by force. Is that what you want? Give her, give her."

Vasudeva tried to intervene, his voice calm but firm. "Wait, Your Majesty, what are you doing? Killing a woman is forbidden. You are about to commit a terrible sin. At least let this girl go."

Kamsa's eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing his words. "I won't be fooled by any tricks of the gods. This could be a divine illusion. Never leave an enemy alive, Vasudeva."

Vasudeva pleaded with quiet urgency. "How can this girl be an enemy to a powerful king like you, Vasudeva? She is not the enemy. The real enemy is the eighth child of Devaki's womb."

Unmoved, Kamsa reached out and snatched the baby from Devaki's trembling arms. Usually, he would take the babies to the palace, but this time, his impatience overcame him. Inside the prison, the stone floor loomed ominously. Just as he was about to smash the baby against it, something miraculous happened.

The baby slipped from Kamsa's grasp and began to rise into the air. Devaki and Vasudeva watched in astonishment as the infant transformed before their eyes. Kamsa and his guards stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening.

The little girl ascended higher, her form changing into that of a radiant goddess. It was Yogamaya herself who appeared, adorned with divine garlands, sandalwood, and various ornaments. Her brilliance was like the sun, too bright to look at directly. In her eight hands, she held a bow, spear, arrow, shield, sword, discus, mace, and conch. A halo of light circled above her head, and celestial beings gathered to worship her.

Kamsa, filled with awe and fear, trembled as he asked, "Why have you come to me? What do you want?"

Yogamaya's voice echoed with divine authority. "Fool, what could I want from you? What do you have? Listen, Kamsa, you won't gain anything by killing me. The one who will destroy you has already come to this world."

Kamsa's voice quivered with desperation. "Who is it? Who will destroy me? Where are they?"

"You will see him when the time is right. You have committed many sins, so do not kill the elderly or innocent children," Yogamaya warned.

With those words, the goddess vanished into the air, leaving Devaki and Vasudeva to bow in gratitude. Kamsa stood motionless, staring at the spot where the divine vision had disappeared, his heart heavy with dread and uncertainty.

Chapter 3: The Change of Heart

Kamsa paced back and forth in his dimly lit chamber, his mind racing with the goddess's words. He had imprisoned his sister Devaki and her husband Vasudeva out of fear, believing that their child would bring about his end. But now, the fear that had gripped him so tightly began to unravel. The goddess's message echoed in his mind: his destroyer had already been born.

"Why keep them prisoners?" Kamsa muttered to himself. "The danger I feared is already here, and I am none the wiser."

His heart, once hardened by fear and cruelty, began to soften under the influence of Yogamaya's words. He realized that keeping Devaki and Vasudeva locked away served no purpose anymore.

Meanwhile, in the royal court, Kamsa's advisors whispered among themselves, puzzled by their king's sudden change in demeanor. One of the ministers approached him cautiously. "My lord, the gods are our enemies. Why do you trust the goddess Yogamaya?"

Kamsa sighed heavily. "Yogamaya is the master of the unexpected. Her will shapes the world, and not even I can defy her. I must believe her."

Determined to act, Kamsa made his way to the prison where Devaki and Vasudeva were held. The clanking of the iron chains echoed as he unlocked them with unsteady hands. His voice trembled as he addressed the couple, "Devaki, Vasudeva, you have suffered greatly because of me. I have become a monster, like a demon who destroys his own kin."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued, "I have killed your sons, and for that, I am deeply ashamed."

Devaki and Vasudeva exchanged a glance, their hearts filled with a mix of relief and disbelief. Could this truly be the same Kamsa who had caused them so much pain?

Kamsa fell to his knees, his voice breaking with emotion. "I am a sinner, a terrible person. Forgive me, please. I never imagined that even gods could deceive. Because of a lie, I have committed unforgivable acts."

Vasudeva, moved by Kamsa's vulnerability, spoke gently, "Do not be sad, Kamsa. We are all bound by the results of our actions. Even our children could not escape their fate."

Kamsa nodded, tears streaming down his face. "You are wise, Vasudeva. I see now that pride led me astray. It tangled me in anger and fear. But I understand now that God controls all things."

Devaki placed a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder. "Kamsa, do not mourn. The body is born and dies, but the soul is eternal. Our children are at peace now."

As Kamsa listened, he felt a strange peace wash over him. The weight of his sins was still heavy, but for the first time, he saw a glimmer of hope. He had been a pawn in a larger plan, one that would ultimately bring Narayana into the world—a world that needed him desperately.

With a newfound resolve, Kamsa vowed to change, to make amends for the wrongs he had done. He knew that the road ahead would not be easy, but he was determined to walk it, guided by the light of understanding that had finally pierced the darkness of his heart.

Chapter 4: The Cycle of Destiny

In the dimly lit chamber, the air was thick with the weight of unspoken truths and the scent of burning incense. The wise old Acharya, with his eyes half-closed in contemplation, spoke to the gathered court. His voice was calm, yet carried the authority of one who had seen many cycles of time.

"King," he began, addressing Kamsa, "everything moves in a cycle. When you are inside it, you cannot understand its design. But step outside, and everything arranges itself like a picture. The sage spoke the truth; all is pre-decided. We are merely pieces in destiny's grand plan."

Kamsa listened intently, his earlier resolve wavering. "Yes, King," the Acharya continued, "no one can alter destiny. This is the ultimate truth of creation's cycle. Even Kamsa could not. He sought forgiveness from Devaki and Vasudeva and released them with honor. Yet, upon returning to his ministers, his mind turned cunning once more. The light of good thoughts vanished."

Kamsa's brow furrowed as he pondered this. "How is this possible, Acharya?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Bad company is like living in hell," the Acharya replied. "Kamsa's ministers were more dishonest than himself. Whenever he was with them, the light in his mind would extinguish, and he would become cruel again. After meeting them, Kamsa shared all about Goddess Yogamaya and the release of Vasudeva and Devaki. His ministers, who harbored ill will towards the gods, were incensed."

"Did Yogamaya really tell you that?" one of the ministers inquired, his eyes glinting with malice. "If so, we must act swiftly. We will dispatch messengers to every mountain, city, village, and settlement, Your Majesty. First, we must find the children of Braj. Mathura is close to Gokul. Could a god be hiding there in disguise?"

Kamsa nodded, though uncertainty clouded his expression. "I understand. But how will you search? Who will you look for? Do you know my enemy?"

"No, Your Majesty," the Prime Minister admitted, "we do not know your enemy. But if we kill all the babies ten days old or younger, one of them must be the disguised assassin."

Kamsa's eyes widened at the suggestion. "That's a great idea, Prime Minister. But what if this task is fraught with danger?"

"What danger, Your Majesty?" the minister scoffed. "Did that disguised god come alone? The entire divine realm might be with him. They will try to protect him. We might end up in a war with the gods."

Kamsa considered this, his fingers drumming on the armrest of his throne. "Is that truly a danger?" he mused aloud. "The gods tremble before me. They fear my bow's sound and cannot withstand my arrows. Have you forgotten that?"

The Prime Minister leaned forward, his voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. "No, Your Majesty. We have not forgotten. But there is no need for war now. The task of killing infants should be done secretly."

Kamsa nodded, a grim determination settling over him. "Many infants have already been killed. I alone have taken six of Devaki's children. Knowing her womb poses no threat, I have released her. But if the killings resume, my peace will be shattered."

"Rest assured, Your Majesty," the Prime Minister promised. "We will carry out the task throughout the kingdom, starting with Gokul. I am certain your enemy is there."

"Why Gokul?" Kamsa asked, curiosity piqued.

"Because cows are Vishnu's favorite," the Prime Minister explained. "It is said Vishnu resides in the bodies of worthy sages and Brahmins. Those who perform rituals actually invoke Vishnu. If you command, we will destroy those rituals and kill the cowherds."

Kamsa's eyes narrowed as he considered the plan. "You have spoken wisely, Prime Minister. Wherever places of worship are set up, my followers should destroy them. And send the most cunning demons to Gokul. We must wipe out those cowherd boys."

"As you command, Your Majesty," the Prime Minister replied, bowing. "I will make all the arrangements immediately."

As the ministers began to disperse, Kamsa turned to Acharyadev, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "Now, tell me about Gokul, Acharyadev. I am eager to hear about that sacred land where Lord Hari himself performs his divine plays. What fortune did Gokul have?"

The Acharya smiled softly, as if remembering a distant, cherished memory. "Gokul," he began, "is a land blessed by the presence of the divine. Its fortune is written in the stars, and its story is one of great wonder and miracles..."

And so, the tale of Gokul unfolded, a story of hope amidst the shadows of impending doom.

Chapter 5: The Mysteries of Goloka

The Acharya's eyes gleamed with a light of wisdom as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of ancient tales. "To truly understand Gokul, you must first know of Goloka," he began, setting the stage for a grand revelation. "By the grace of Lord Vishnu, even Brahma and the other gods have glimpsed this divine realm. Nestled in the lap of the great serpent Sheshnag, Goloka is a sanctuary protected from the prying eyes of the unworthy. Not everyone can reach Goloka, O King."

King Parikshit leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "Who is allowed to go to Goloka, my Lord?" he asked eagerly.

The Acharya nodded, his expression solemn. "Those burdened with desires, attachments, pride, and ego cannot enter Goloka, Your Majesty. Even the gods themselves were denied entry."

Parikshit was taken aback. "Why were they not allowed to enter, my Lord?"

The Acharya continued, "The gods gathered at the gates of Goloka, hoping to see Lord Hari. But the Lord's attendants stopped them and informed Lord Hari of their presence. Then, something truly extraordinary occurred."

"What happened, Acharyadev?" Parikshit asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

A soft smile played on the Acharya's lips as he recounted the tale. "A stunningly beautiful maiden emerged from Goloka and asked, 'Which universe are you from, gods? What should I tell the Lord?'"

Parikshit was puzzled. "Which universe? What are you saying, dear one? We know of only one universe, and I am its king."

The Acharya chuckled gently. "The gods, mighty as they are, were astounded. 'How many universes are there?' they wondered. The maiden replied, 'Oh my, you don't know? Each of these countless pebbles scattered in Goloka represents a universe. There are gods like you in each one. That's why I'm asking, which universe's king are you?'"

Parikshit gasped in astonishment. "How incredible! So many universes. Where do we belong then? We've never heard of such a multitude of universes."

The Acharya nodded. "One of the gods, Rudra, spoke up. 'Listen, dear one, I am Rudra. I tell you, we come from the universe born from the pressure of the dwarf god's toe.' With Lord Hari's permission, the gods were allowed to enter Goloka. They were amazed at what they saw."

"What did they see, Acharyadev?" Parikshit asked, leaning even closer.

"In Goloka, they beheld Govardhan Hill and countless beautifully dressed cowherds and maidens dancing joyfully. Some sang, while others played with numerous cows and their calves. The dark Yamuna River flowed nearby, its banks adorned with wildflowers, vines, and hills. Lotus flowers bloomed everywhere, creating a stage for the divine dance on the banks of the Yamuna."

Parikshit was entranced. "Lord, you describe Gokul so vividly. But where did Golok, the cowherds, and the Rasa stage come from? Wise sage, I can't understand."

The Acharya's voice softened. "Parikshit, from this Golok, Lord Hari sent the 84-mile land to Earth. There, Govardhan and Yamuna were also present. That land is Gokul."

"Amazing. Truly amazing," Parikshit murmured, his mind swirling with wonder. "How did this strange event happen? Please explain it to me, wise sage."

The Acharya's tone grew somber. "At that time, terrible oppression was rampant. Demons caused great trouble, and religion was disappearing from Earth. People were terrified of cruel kings like Kansa and Jarasandha. The Earth went to Brahmalok and shared its suffering. The gods then presented this tale of oppression to Lord Hari."

"What did Lord Hari look like, dear teacher? What did the gods see?" Parikshit asked, his heart pounding in anticipation.

The Acharya's eyes shone as he described the divine vision. "Have you seen dark clouds in the sky, Parikshit? His skin was just like that. His hair was tied up with a peacock feather adorning it. His eyes, full of endless compassion, and a sweet smile graced his lips. He wore yellow clothes and many ornaments, with a garland around his neck. Beside him was Radha, dressed in blue. He is the very form of Krishna."

"But you spoke of Lord Hari, wise sage?" Parikshit interjected, confusion in his voice.

The Acharya nodded knowingly. "Yes, Parikshit, Krishna is the Supreme God himself. One by one, the forms of sacrifice, Narayana, the sage Nara-Narayana, and Vamanadev all came and merged into Krishna's body. The gods then understood that Lord Krishna is the most complete. Without him, no one else can even be imagined."

"What did the gods do after seeing this amazing sight, wise sage?" Parikshit asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The Acharya paused, his eyes reflecting the awe that the gods themselves must have felt. "They were in awe for a while. Then Indra and others..."

The gods, filled with reverence, bowed deeply to Lord Krishna, their hearts brimming with devotion. Indra, the king of the gods, stepped forward, his voice resonating with the earnestness of his plea. "I bow to the Supreme Brahman, the Supreme Truth, the Lord of Golok, Lord Krishna," he began, his words a melody of praise. "You are present everywhere in creation. There is no alternative to you, Lord. We seek your refuge. Knowledge, devotion, judgment—none can truly know you, Lord. Unless you reveal yourself, who can know you, Lord?"

Indra's voice then took on a tone of urgency. "O Supreme Being, creation is now lost in deep crisis. Lord, there is no light, no joy there. Truth, love, and compassion have all been overtaken by greed. Please, have mercy and save it, Lord."

Krishna listened with compassion, his serene presence calming the anxious gods. "Oh King Indra, oh wise Brahma, I have heard your pleas," he replied, his voice as soothing as a gentle breeze. "I will go to Earth myself this time. You should prepare too. You and your wives will be born into the Yadu dynasty. I will also come to that family. Whenever kindness and righteousness decline, I must come as an avatar. But this time, I will go in my full form, not just a part. The Earth will be blessed, my Lord. The Earth will be complete."

The gods felt a profound peace wash over them at Krishna's promise. They bowed again and again, their hearts lightened by his words. But as the news spread that Krishna himself would descend to Earth, Radha's heart grew heavy with sorrow. She cried out, her voice filled with despair, "No, if you leave, I will not survive, my Lord. I have no use for this body without you. Without seeing you, I will vanish like camphor. You will not find me when you return to Golok."

Krishna turned to her, his gaze tender and reassuring. "How can I leave you, Radha? You are always with me. You will go with me. Do not grieve, my dear. Where I am, there you are too. Where you are, I am there as well."

Radha's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "But my Lord, I cannot live without Golok, Govardhan, and Yamuna."

With a gentle smile, Krishna promised, "I will fulfill your wish at night. You will not have to leave Golok. For you, a part of Golok will descend to Earth. Do you understand now, King, about the 84 Kros land?" At Radha's wish, Krishna brought a part of Golok to Earth. That part is Gokul. By his command, Mount Govardhan and the Yamuna River also appeared in Gokul.

Parikshit, who had been listening intently, leaned forward, eager for more. "And where did the gods go by his command? Please tell me, wise sage. Where will the gods be born?"

The Acharya nodded, continuing the tale with the wisdom of ages. "At Brahma's request, Lord Krishna began to speak. 'I will be born from Devaki. My divine form, Ananta Nag, will be born from Rohini. The king of the Vasus, named Drona, will be born as Nanda Gopa. His wife Dhara will become Yashoda. Lakshmi will be born as the daughter of King Bhishmaka, named Rukmini. When she unites with me, Kamadeva will be born from her womb. His name will be Pradyumna.'"

"And what about Radha? Where will she come?" Parikshit inquired, his curiosity piqued.

The sage smiled, a twinkle in his eye. "Let me tell you a story, King. There was a very virtuous and righteous king named Suchandra. He married Kalavati, the granddaughter of Daksha Prajapati. Suchandra and Kalavati lived a very happy life for many years. As time passed, Suchandra grew older. He realized it was time to leave worldly life and focus on spiritual practice."

The sage's voice softened as he spoke of Suchandra's departure. "Suchandra went to the ashram of Sage Agastya. Losing her husband, Kalavati was heartbroken and cried endlessly."

Parikshit listened with bated breath. "Then what happened, Lord?"

The Acharya continued, "Both Kalavati and Suchandra were devoted and truthful. Brahma could not bear Kalavati's sorrow. He appeared before her and blessed her, saying, 'Do not be sad, Kalavati. Your husband has fulfilled his duty. Your sorrow should not lead him away from his path. I bless you that in your next life, Suchandra will be your husband again, and you will have a divine child.'"

He paused, allowing the weight of Brahma's blessing to sink in. "Lord Krishna made Brahma's blessing come true. He declared, 'King Suchandra will be reborn as Vrishabhanu, and his wife Kirti will be Kalavati. Their child will be none other than Radha herself. Many of my divine friends will be born in Gokul. With them, I will perform the divine dance, the Rasa Lila, in the land of Braj.'"

Parikshit, still brimming with questions, asked eagerly, "I have a question, wise sage. Is the one named Drona, who came to Gokul, King Nanda? Was Vasudeva's eighth child left in his house?"

Chapter 6: The Divine Play in Gokul

Parikshit listened intently as the wise sage began to unravel the mysteries of the past. "Listen, Parikshit," the sage said, his voice carrying the weight of ancient wisdom, "the king of Gokul is known as Nanda, but that is merely a title, not his actual name. In Gokul, everyone lives by tending to cows, and so they are all called Gopal. Among them, the one who owns nine hundred thousand cows is given the title Nanda. The owner of five hundred thousand cows is called Upananda. The one with five million cows is Vrishabhanu, and the king with ten million cows is known as Nandaraja. It was in Nandaraja's house that Vasudeva left the divine child. Meanwhile, Radha came to reside in the house of another king, Vrishabhanu."

Parikshit, still brimming with curiosity, leaned forward eagerly. "Were there others besides the divine maidens who were born as Gopis in Gokul, wise sage?"

"Yes, there were," the sage replied with a knowing smile. "But they were not ordinary people. They were extraordinary, with endless devotion and dedication, companions in God's divine play."

"I am eager to hear about these Gopis," Parikshit urged. "Tell me, teacher, who were they really? Who came in those forms?"

The sage nodded, understanding the young king's thirst for knowledge. "The story is vast, and there are many of them. But since you asked about the Gopis, I will tell you briefly. In ancient times, there was a very sacred place called Shvetadwip. The eternal scriptures themselves took human form there and performed penance. They were incredibly beautiful. Pleased with their devotion, Lord Hari appeared before them."

The sage paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to settle before he continued. "Lord Hari asked them, 'O sacred ones, what do you desire from me? Ask, and I will fulfill all your wishes.'

"The scriptures, filled with awe, replied, 'O Janardana, O Supreme Being, seeing your wonderful form, we have developed a desire. We wish to be with you, Lord.'

"Lord Hari, with a gentle smile, responded, 'Your wish is quite complex. It cannot be fulfilled in this form. But since you have wished for it, it will come true. Not now, but in the Dvapara Yuga, you will be born as Gopis in Braj and enjoy with me in Vrindavan.'"

Parikshit's eyes widened as he absorbed the tale. "All our sacred scriptures took the form of women to enjoy with the Lord, King," the sage explained, "and they became the friends of Braj."

"But not everything happened because of Ramchandra's blessings," the sage continued. "Princesses from Mithila and Kaushal were also born in Braj. Many Sitas came with them. The sages of Dandakaranya were all Gopis in Braj."

Parikshit was puzzled. "How did this happen, wise sage? I don't understand anything about the many Sitas and the sages of Dandakaranya. Please explain it to me in detail."

The sage chuckled softly, remembering the tales of old. "Ramchandra went to Mithila and broke the bow to marry Sita. Meanwhile, the daughters of Mithila, enchanted by Ram's beauty and charm, wished to marry him. In response to their constant prayers and pleas, Ramchandra smiled gently and said, 'Ladies, I cannot fulfill your wishes. In this life, Sita is my wife, and I cannot even dream of another woman. However, in the Dwapar age, I will perform the Raas Leela in Vrindavan. At that time, you will join me as Gopis. My words will not be false.'"

The sage's voice grew more animated as he continued, "After winning Lanka and returning to Ayodhya, many women from Kaushal and beyond wanted to marry Ramchandra, dazzled by his brilliance. He gave them the same blessing. Later, they were born as Gopis in Braj."

Parikshit was captivated, but he still had one more question. "But how did the sages of Dandakaranya come to Braj? Please tell me that story, wise sage."

The sage's eyes twinkled with the light of ancient memories. "Once, while Ramchandra was traveling through Dandakaranya during his exile, he encountered many sages in the forest. They were all devoted to Gopal, meditating deeply on the child form of God. Suddenly, Ramchandra appeared before them. His beauty and radiance, like that of the god of love, broke their meditation. The sages began to praise Ram. Pleased with their praise, Ramchandra said, 'O sages, ask for a boon from me.'

"The sages, filled with devotion, replied, 'O Lord, after seeing your enchanting form, what more can we ask for? We wish to be by your side like Goddess Sita. Please grant us this blessing.'

"Ramchandra, with a gentle shake of his head, said, 'I cannot give you this boon. In this life, I cannot accept anyone other than Sita. If you had asked to be like my brother Lakshman, I could have fulfilled that wish.'

"The sages, undeterred, pleaded, 'But Lord, we are mesmerized by your captivating form. We worship you as our husband. Please bless us with the boon of becoming women, O Lord.'

"Ramchandra, moved by their devotion, finally relented. 'Very well,' he said, 'in the Dwapar age, you will be born as women in Vrindavan. There, you will experience the joy of union with me. I bless you with this.'"

Parikshit sat back, his mind swirling with the tales of devotion and divine blessings, his heart filled with awe at the wondrous ways of the divine.

Chapter 7: The Many Forms of Sita

Parikshit leaned forward, his curiosity piqued by the sage's wisdom. "And where did the many forms of Goddess Sita come from, wise sage?" he inquired eagerly.

The sage smiled gently, recalling the ancient tales. "King Ramchandra was once forced to abandon Sita to honor the words of his people," he began. "But as you know, one cannot perform a sacrifice without a wife by their side. So, each time he performed a sacred ritual, he created a golden Sita. These golden forms, blessed by his touch, gained consciousness and approached Ramchandra, longing for the joy of companionship. By his blessing, these golden Sitas were destined to be born as Gopis in Braj."

Parikshit nodded, understanding dawning upon him. "Ah, so the king has crafted his own realm, Braj Dham, with his own hands," he murmured, awe coloring his voice. "The complete divine presence dwells in Braj, making it so sweet and beautiful. It's like the very body of God himself."

The sage's eyes twinkled with satisfaction at Parikshit's comprehension. "Yes, my dear king. Hearing about the heavenly Braj Dham has truly amazed you. Your mind feels calm now, does it not?"

Parikshit smiled softly, a serene peace settling over him. "It does, wise sage. So, come on then, let me take you to the earthly Braj Dham. I will tell you about the place where baby Narayan arrived from Mathura."