The gopīs sat by the Yamuna singing of Krishna. Memory, concern, and hope mingled in their words. Just then He appeared again, dressed in yellow and smiling, and the weight of separation began to lift. For a moment they stopped their song and turned toward Him.
They did not all respond alike. Some approached immediately; others, shaken by longing, could hardly speak. Each carried her own experience of the search. They offered Him a place to sit and moved together to the soft sandy bank, where moonlight touched the water.
Now reunited, the gopīs asked a question. They spoke of those who return affection, those who love without receiving it back, and those who respond to no one's love. The question grew out of their recent separation: they wanted to understand Krishna, not simply forget the hurt.
Krishna answered with care and explained that apparent distance does not always mean forgetfulness. He told them that He could not simply repay their sincere love. His words do not erase what they felt, but they give their trust room to grow after the difficult night.
The account closes with presence and conversation. The gopīs are not only listeners to the flute; they ask, remember, and speak with Krishna about what closeness means. On the Yamuna's bank, reunion feels deeper because they have passed through separation together.