Radhika walks through Vrindavan with her sakhis, golden pots of ghee balanced on their heads for the rishis performing yajna at Govindakunda. At Manasi-ganga the whole panorama of Govardhana opens before her, and she stops in wonder: "Look, Lalita, look at this beauty!" Then she lowers her eyes — and all that grandeur suddenly dims. Because the very dust of Vrindavan is doing seva. "How? Sakhi, look — here are Krishna's footprints. Clearly, unmistakably, the auspicious lines of his lotus feet are marked upon them: the lotus, the flag, the goad, the elephant, and more." This Vrindavan, Radhika says, makes the whole world glorious, for it is decorated with the footprints of Krishna, wearing them like a jewel. And remembering those lotus feet, she is overwhelmed with love, and one prayer rises: that these same feet leave their print upon her heart, that the kumkum of his steps be stamped there. She whom all the worlds should serve longs only to become the dust that keeps his footprint.