The apology deepens. Arjuna now names the exact moments: playing together, lying down to rest, sitting side by side, sharing a meal. In all these ordinary settings — whether alone with Krishna or surrounded by others — he may have said something disrespectful, cracked a joke at Krishna's expense, or treated Him with the easy irreverence of a close friend.
Picture two soldiers in a long campaign. They share tents, share food, tease each other after a tough day. That was Arjuna and Krishna's daily reality. Every army campfire, every roadside halt, every shared plate of rice — those memories now rush back to Arjuna with a new, overwhelming weight.
He addresses Krishna as Achyuta (the infallible) and Aprameya (the immeasurable). These are not casual names. They mark the distance Arjuna now feels between the friend he thought he knew and the infinite being he has just witnessed. And yet — it is love, not fear, that drives this apology.