That gracious, sweet, childlike form is the very form of the Dark One. In the company of cowherds and cows, He came, drawn by Pundalik. That is the very object of meditation: standing unclothed, hands resting on the waist. In His innocence, He stands quietly still, held there by His love for devotees. He pays no attention to outward pomp; He stands with feet even upon the brick. His hands rest naturally at His hips; His provision is curds and rice. A flute, a horn, a quiver on His back, and a staff He once held. The beautiful place of the Chandrabhaga river is His playground, O Panduranga. The Bhima flows southward, and His gaze falls straight ahead. He made a promise to Pundalik to save the ignorant. Says Tuka, the Dweller of Vaikuntha has remained here, close to His devotees.