Arjuna, having resolved to journey to Dwarakāvati, recalled the words of Gada, who had once spoken with delighted admiration of Subhadrā, the sister of Vāsudeva—more delicate and enchanting, he said, than the heavenly nymph Tilottamā; a treasure of gentle virtues, possessed of a gait full of grace and a conduct beyond reproach. These words, ringing in his mind like the echo of a temple bell, accompanied him as he set forth, though caution tempered the ardour of his heart. He knew well that in the kingdom of the Yādavas the people honoured their traditions, held sages and hermits in high esteem, and welcomed scholars with humility. To move unmarked among them, he clothed himself in the guise of an ascetic and concealed his warrior’s splendour beneath the austere semblance of a holy wanderer.
As he journeyed, his thoughts rested upon Śrī Kṛasṇa—the eternal soul, sustainer of worlds, and guide of righteousness. The Lord, knowing Arjuna’s presence without mortal messenger, came alone to the banks of Prabhāsa. For the Divine, moved by devotion, ever goes to the dwelling of His servant. Arjuna beheld the Lord of Viṣṇu’s splendour approaching and, awestruck, faltered for a moment. With folded hands and eyes brimming with tears, he prayed: “Śrī Kṛṣṇa, I have roamed these twelve months along the sacred Gaṅgā and the hallowed heights of Himālaya. Now I come to Thy lotus feet, and in Thy presence am cleansed of all my sins. The river born of Nārāyaṇa’s own feet has bathed me; but it is in Thee that my heart finds its true purification.”
Kṛṣṇa, smiling with the quiet light of omniscience, inquired of the welfare of the elders of Indraprastha and, reading his friend’s hidden desire, led him onward to Dvārakā. There the city shone like a fragment of paradise upon earth: palaces gleaming with gold, gardens laden with flowers of many hues, creepers woven in natural festoons; the steps of every house were studded with pearls and coral, and silver and gold fringed the hanging curtains. Kṛṣṇa brought Arjuna to a resplendent cave in the hill of Raivataka. There, as in the ancient days when they had practised penance together as Nara and Nārāyaṇa at Badarikāśrama, the two kindred souls rejoiced in converse deep and spiritual, exchanging memories of their austere meditations.
Before dawn broke, Kṛṣṇa rose and counselled Arjuna to remain hidden while He Himself mounted His golden chariot. Convening the assembly of the Yādavas, He ordered the proclamation of the grand annual festival of Raivataka, the proudest cultural rite of the clan. Soon the people of Dvārakā, their bodies perfumed with sandal paste and garlanded with flowers, clothed in silks of radiant colours and adorned with jewels, thronged the way. Drums thundered, instruments gave forth their traditional rhythms, and dancers moved in resplendent harmony while singers poured forth graceful songs. The great procession wound toward the sacred hill; hearts overflowed with joy, and not a single face bore the mark of care. Such is the divine marvel of a festival that lifts mortals to a state of transcendence.
The venerable elders—Śaraṇa, Sātyaka, Akrūra, Ugrasena, Gada, Uddhava—advanced in majesty upon royal elephants, steeds, chariots and palanquins. Kṛṣṇa Himself came amidst the acclaim of the multitude, Rukmiṇī and His other consorts beside Him, like Indra moving among the celestial beauties. He sought out Arjuna and showed him the holy places of the hill. Together they sat upon a grassy verge, speaking heart to heart. Then there came the soft music of anklets, the airy tremor of ornaments, and the laughter of maidens whose voices were sweet with youthful delight. Among them walked Subhadrā, who had prayed to the deity of Raivataka that her secret longing might be fulfilled—the longing to wed Arjuna. Tradition held that every true desire laid before the god on this day would find its answer.
When Subhadrā approached her brother, Arjuna gazed upon her, spellbound, his eyes unable to turn away. Kṛṣṇa, with a smile of gentle mischief, said, “O great ascetic, is it fitting for a sage to gaze so steadfastly upon a maiden?” Then, softening, He added, “I know well your heart’s affection for Subhadrā. Fear not; I shall speak to Vāsudeva and Devakī and win their favour for your desire.” With these words He reassured his friend, and at once sent trusted messengers to Indraprastha to inform Dharmarāja of Arjuna’s safety and his presence in Dvārakā.
Soon Balarāma and the other Yādava elders gathered around, saluting the disguised warrior as a holy hermit and bowing with folded hands. Delighted by his account of sacred places and their glory, they entreated him to remain through the rainy season and to complete the four months of the Chāturmāsa vow. They escorted him to the royal palace, entrusting Subhadrā with the care of their honoured guest. Thus the bold and steadfast Arjuna was attended by the gentle, devoted maiden, and in that meeting of courage and grace a new chapter in the ancient story began—a living bridge between the weight of tradition and the dawn of a new destiny.
