Krishna gathers his friends and the cows and heads out the gate of Vraja — and behind him, unable to let go, trails the whole village: Nanda, Yashoda, the elder gopas and gopis. His mother embraces him and arranges the boys around him: "you stand here, you go in front," so they walk shielding her son. Krishna takes a few steps — and Yashoda can bear it no longer: she runs after him, seizes him again, embraces and kisses him, feels along his little arms and legs, whispers a prayer to Nrisimhadev to guard him. He sets off once more — and again she comes: "I'll send you lunch, someone with a tiffin, so you won't go hungry in the forest." And Krishna burns with embarrassment before his friends: "Mother, enough — the cows are waiting, they want fresh grass!" And the moment he steps away, she catches him yet again, embraces him, and ties a protective amulet on his arm. Until at last he slips into the forest. The Lord of all universes, flute at his lips — and one short path he cannot win: his mother won't let him walk ten steps down it.