The Farewell to Uddhava

Uddhava could no longer contain his grief. Tears streamed down his face as he grasped Krishna's feet. "How can I leave You? How can I walk away when I know You will soon depart? Take me with You, Krishna. Let me dissolve where You go."

Krishna lifted Uddhava's chin gently. "Dear friend, your love moves the entire creation. But this body of Mine has completed its purpose. The Yadava clan has been cursed to perish. Dwaraka will sink beneath the waves. A new age begins - the age of Kali - and different work awaits you."

"What work could matter in a world without You?"

"The work of preserving the teaching. Go to Badrikashram in the Himalayas. Meditate there. Let the wisdom we have shared become part of the cosmic treasury. Future seekers will draw from what you preserve. This is not lesser work - it is essential."

"But I will be alone!"

"You will never be alone. I have given you the knowledge by which you can see Me in everything. The rocks of Badrikashram will speak to you. The snow will carry My touch. The silence will be My voice. You will find companionship with the sages of all ages who dwell there in subtle form."

Uddhava sobbed openly. "I am not ready, Krishna. Despite all You have taught, I am not ready to be without You."

"You are more ready than you know. The very pain you feel is proof of your devotion - and devotion is the path. Let the pain be your meditation. Let the longing be your mantra. In time, the wound will become a window through which My light streams constantly."

"What of the others - Arjuna, Satyaki, the countless devotees?"

"Each will face their own version of this moment. Each will find their own way through. Some will struggle longer, some less. But the seed we have planted together - in the Gita, in these conversations, in countless shared moments - will grow into forests of wisdom across the ages."

Krishna pulled Uddhava close. "Remember this embrace. When the world feels cold, remember warmth. When darkness descends, remember light. When doubt arises, remember certainty. All of that is contained in this moment, available whenever you return here in memory."

"I will remember," Uddhava whispered.

"And when your body falls at last, you will come to Me. Not to another birth, not to heavenly pleasures that fade, but to My eternal abode. This is My promise to you, spoken friend to friend, heart to heart."

Uddhava rose slowly, his face transformed by tears into something ancient and luminous. "I go, then. Not because I want to, but because You ask. Not because I am ready, but because Your word makes me so. I carry You in my heart, Krishna. Every step will be toward You even as I walk away."

"Go, dear one. And know that I go with you."

Uddhava walked backward for a long time, his eyes fixed on Krishna's form, imprinting it forever in his soul. Only when the trees blocked his view did he finally turn toward the northern mountains, toward Badrikashram, toward the rest of his embodied journey.