Stones would crack at the sight of that grief. The milkmaids and all the people lamented. 'What terrible sin must we have committed?' they asked one another. Some wept openly, tears streaming; inwardly they burned. Others burned both inside and out, throwing their children from their arms. Some stood still and silent, as if their souls had departed. Every soul among them had risen to the brink, all except the cowherds who had been with Him. Life itself now seemed false in this world, for without meeting Hari, what was the use of living? Taking the cowherds with them, everyone set out: men, women, children, all. The word 'human' no longer applied; the whole village of Gokul was abandoned. They left behind food, wealth, and everything, holding only the image of that cowherd-boy in their hearts. The cows stood at the water's edge with lowered heads, staring silently into the pool of the Yamuna. The trees, plants, and creepers along the Yamuna had wilted with grief for Krishna. The sorrow of all became one on that bank. Then the parents began to wail. Says Tuka, the parents and siblings, they had been untroubled until they reached the water's edge.