The brief was the founding lila of the whole tradition: Krishna lifting Govardhan, the moment that makes Shrinathji who he is. We made the child-Krishna the unmistakable hero — large, frontal, one arm up under the green hill — and ranged the villagers and cows beneath him in calm rows rather than a panicked crowd, because the point of the story is shelter, not chaos. The grey rain clouds sit only at the corners so the cream ground stays open and the eye climbs straight to the raised hill. The hill itself carries the little white shrines that mark Govardhan as sacred. This is the heart of Pushtimarg: the boy who taught the cowherds to honour the hill that fed their cattle, worshipped at Nathdwara as the Govardhan-lifter.