Crooked Jaw grinned. ‘I hear your Yadavas have fled to other kingdoms rather than be ruled by you. Is that why you come here? To grovel at our master’s feet in the hope that he will aid you again and give you more of his potions to drink so that you may gain more abilities?’ He leaned closer and chuckled. ‘Or perhaps you needed something to aid you in bed with his daughters? Word is that you have not been able to seed either of them with child for years. Perhaps you require some help? I would be happy to help anytime. As would all my team mates. Just say the word.’
Kamsa reached out a hand, indicating the sword.
Crooked Jaw raised an eyebrow but handed the sword over without comment.
Kamsa took the sword, turned it inwards, the point of the blade aimed at his own lower abdomen, gripping the hilt in both hands, and said, ‘When I am done here on this field today, you and all your team mates will wish you were my wives and could feel the pleasure of mating with me.’
Crooked Jaw’s eyes narrowed and his fists clenched.
Kamsa went on. ‘And if you survive, I would be happy seed you with child if you wish as well. I have more than enough to seed all your nation’s women as well as men.’
And he plunged the sword’s point into the weakest point of any man’s abdomen, hard enough to pierce wood.
The sword cracked and broke into three separate pieces.
Kamsa handed the hilt back to Crooked Jaw who stared at the broken blade. ‘You can keep this one. I prefer my own.’
He smiled to himself as Crooked Jaw flung the pieces of the broken sword across the field, yelling at his startled team mates as he strode back to his side. He knew his own words had been somewhat bombastic to say the least, but it was the only way to get the point across - and then break it off.
15
Krishna looked down with his inner eye and saw the ground receding far below. He could make out the hill and all the revellers in their gaily colored ras-lila outfits staring up and pointing as they saw what was happening. He could see Yashoda-maiya and Nanda run forward, arms outstretched, crying out, agitated, and could feel their anguish and pain as they saw their child being spirited away by the wind demon. He saw the bodyguards roaring with ineffectual anger and waving their muscular arms and lathis about impotently. He felt sorry for them all, for such events were so far beyond their power to control, they might as well be ants trampled underfoot by an elephant - while the elephant itself went on his way, not even aware of the existence of the ants. The universe was a cruel place. Which was why it was so important for some to dedicate their lives to being kind. Somehow, a balance must be made.
He looked down at the sala tree, still imbedded in the island of earth that Trnavarta had uprooted from the hillside. His physical self still sat at the foot of the tree, still soundly asleep. The little babe’s mouth was puckered, his curls falling across his forehead, his chubby limbs sprawled, head tilted, as he slept on blissfully unaware of the goings-on around him. Krishna had chosen to let his physical self sleep through this crisis. The human part of him needed the rest and in any case, there was nothing he could do. He was too young to run or jump or fight or wield a weapon. Whatever course of action he chose, it would have to use the power of mind far more than the power of body. Someday, his human form would be strong and powerful enough in its own right, and then he could meld more of his divinity with it to use in such circumstances. But right now, he was a babe in arms. And even a feisty babe in arms is still a babe.
Trnavarta was gloating at his triumph.
How do you fancy this, God Child? Do you like the view from here? Would you like to return to earth? To your maatr and pitr?
The asura tilted the patch of ground, and even though his cosmic form was unaffected by the action, Krishna felt his human form shift with the tilt. The very weight he had added to his body to anchor it to the ground would cause it to topple over and roll off the island in a trice now. He saw his head roll from one side to another, striking the trunk as it moved and cracking the sala tree again.
A sharper tilt and I wager your little infant self will roll right off this flying clod! Trnavarta laughed, gray grit particles exploding from his mouth and swirling around him like a swarm of flies. Perhaps now you realize that increasing your weight ten fold was not enough to stop me from ending your short existence on this plane!
The demon was right. Whether Krishna increased or decreased his weight now would make no difference. All the asura had to do was tilt the flying island, or turn it over, and the babe lying beneath the sala tree would fall off and plummet to the ground. He glanced down: the ground in question was already several hundred yards distant and moving farther away. A fall from this height would certainly kill his physical form. And while a man might have been able to hold on to something to keep from falling off, a babe could not do so for long. Even if he could, that was not a real solution. Trnavarta had him at a disadvantage and he knew it. As before, the only way out of this was through the use of mental muscle not physical ones.
Have you ever looked into a god’s mind, demon?
Trnavarta turned his incoherent head to stare at him. His face was still made up of countless particles, unable to reform itself into a cohesive whole so long as his exerted his wind powers, but there was enough face still left to form and exhibit expressions. He looked suspicious.
Do not try to trick me, Haridev. I know you devas. When you cannot win a battle by fair means, you will do whatever it takes to achieve your end.
You cannot kill me.
Trnavarta shook his head, grinning.
See for yourself, Slayer of Kamsa. One sudden tilt and you will be dead ten times over! Not even the Sanjivani mantra will be able to revive you because your limbs and parts will be flung so far apart, nobody will be able to find all the pieces.
If you do not believe me, look inside my mouth.
Trnavarta spread his hands. The tips of his fingers were flowing molecules of grit streaming downwards in an endless stream. Krishna wondered how the wind demon’s disintegrating body kept flowing away but never depleted fully: then he glanced up and understood. The wind brought back each molecule to its proper place. Hence the cyclical form of the attack: a whirlwind or tornado spun around, which meant that each mote or particle eventually returned to its original place. Trnavarta was constantly unmaking and remaking himself, particle by particle. Like one hand pouring a fistful of sand into the other hand’s palm, then back to the first hand again, and so on, endlessly, but without spilling a grain of sand.
Why should I bother? I have you now. You cannot escape me. You know this. I know this. Why should I listen to your godly blather? My mission is to kill you and I am about to succeed.
You are not. You will fail. That is the reason why I ask you to do this. Your arrogance is your undoing. You are making an assumption founded on a lie. You believe that if you destroy my physical body, you will kill me.
Trnavarta nodded. Yes, because it is in that physical form that you have taken birth as the Slayer.
But you are wrong. Do you think I would entrust such a great mission to a mere infant? That I would pour all my infinite power into the body of a babe? What would be the point? He cannot wield a sword, loose an arrow, fling a spear... What kind of Slayer is he?
Trnavarta frowned. Yet you killed Putana.
That was different. She came to me as a wet nurse and tried to use that to kill me. But the poison only made me stronger.
Trnavarta’s eyes widened to twice their size, particles filling in that portion of his wind-swept face to make them almost look like human eyes staring out from the whirlwind. Is that true? I have heard rumors about Putana’s poison. Bahuka says that Kamsa’s strength was derived from it.
Bahuka is right. I cannot be destroyed. I killed Putana and I will kill you as well, unless you release me soon and go on your way and promise never to make an attempt on my life again.
Trnavarta thought for a moment. But even while thinking, he did not slow his
upwards motion. Krishna felt the island continue to rise up at the same alarming speed. He glanced down. They were at least a kilometre off the ground and still shooting up fast.
Trnavarta sensed him looking down and a crafty look came into his eyes.
What’s the matter, Haridev? Do you fear being so high above the ground? Are you anxious about your mortal body falling to its death?
Krishna smiled.
I told you. I do not care about that mortal form. It is merely a vessel. I can find another.
Trnavarta grinned, his teeth smearing away to particles that turned grey and joined the slipstream flowing downwards.
Even so, great one, I think it might be best if I took us higher.
Krishna felt a surge of power as the island was lifted by a great burst of energy. He saw Trnavarta’s form dissolve further as the demon exerted more of his power to propel them skywards. Glancing down, he saw they were already at least two kilometers above ground and rising at a much faster rate. The yards sped by at a blurring pace. Three kilometers, then four, then five...
Too fast for you, little God Child?
Not at all. But since you do not seem interested in your own survival, I might as well kill you and be done with it.
Krishna lolled his head against the sala tree, deliberately striking it hard. The tree cracked resoundingly, the trunk splitting free of the base. So great was their upward momentum and the resultant force of gravity now that the broken tree tumbled over and over and vanished into the slipstream of the demon’s whirlwind. The force of its passage caused the entire island to shudder and wobble dangerously.
Trnavarta looked puzzled and irritated.
What are you doing?
I told you. I do not care about that body’s survival. I mean to kill you now.
I do not understand, the demon said. How can you kill me?
By tricking you into carrying us upwards.
Trnavarta stared at him.
What does that mean? I was the one who lifted you up into the air! So that I could drop your body down from a height and kill you.
So you thought. But I was the one who tricked you into doing it. That was why I made my body too heavy for you to pick up. Forcing you to raise up a whole patch of earth around me. Causing you to carry us up at a great speed. Then I tricked you into going even faster, until...
Until? asked the demon, his wind-swept voice both mournful and doubtful.
Until your momentum was so great, you would be unable to stop yourself even if you wished to stop.
Krishna glanced around.
As is the case now.
He gestured.
Trnavarta looked around.
They were yojanas up in the sky now. Except it was no longer the sky. It was the outskirts of the planet’s atmosphere, far beyond the limits of the clouds and the upper reaches of the air, and at the rate they were shooting up, they would leave the earth’s orbit soon enough and continue into the vast blackness of open space.
Trnavarta gasped.
And struggled for breath.
Krishna smiled.
You see? You forgot that even a wind demon needs wind in order to survive. And wind is only possible where there is air. This high, there is barely air to breathe, let alone blow around, and soon we will leave the motherly grasp of Prithvi-loka and fly out into the directionless emptiness of space.
Trnavarta exerted himself. Krishna watched as the demon’s dissipated particles began to collect together, cohering into a recognizable whole again. In a moment, he was almost wholly solid, only his lower body and feet still a mass of swirling particles.
I cannot stop us! It is as if I have no more control over our movement!
Krishna smiled again. That is because wind has no power here. The force of our momentum will continue to carry us forward indefinitely now. We cannot stop. We could travel for crores or arbo years and we still would not come to a halt. Because to stop requires wind resistance or ground friction and in open space we shall encounter neither of those. Of course, we may strike another planet or heavenly body and that would halt our progress. But I wouldn’t worry about that. You will be dead long before that - already you are gasping for breath, choking on the absence of air. All living creatures need air to breathe. As a wind demon it is the very blood in your veins. You need more of it to exist.
Trnavarta began to gasp and choke. He reached out to Krishna beseechingly.
Save me!
Save you? Krishna chuckled. You came to kill me. Why should I save you?
I shall serve you forever, lord! Forgive my transgression. I know your true power now. Spare my life.
Krishna pretended to think a moment. There is only one way you may survive.
Anything!
Look into my mouth.
Trnavarta stared at him. Then realized he was serious. The demon nodded vigorously and started forward. As his body had solidified, he had drifted downwards to land on the ground. Now, his body fully reformed, he strode forward to the spot where little Krishna sat at the foot of the broken tree. He bent down, hesitated, then leaned forward uncertainly.
Krishna opened his mouth wide.
Showing him the same thing that Yashoda had seen only a short while earlier, before she had set him down under the same tree.
Trnavarta stared, fascinated.
My lord! I see...
What do you see?
Trnavarta hesitated.
I see everything. The world, the planets, the movements of the celestial orbs...it is magnificent. You are magnificent, lord. You are everything and everything is contained within you.
Krishna pointed upwards. Their movement had slowed now and they were drifting like a raft upon a motionless lake in the cold darkness of space. Krishna could not breathe here and neither could Trnavarta. They would die of air deprivation in moments. But the demon was too overwhelmed by what he had glimpsed to care anymore. His eyes reflected his sudden adoration.
Now look up. Tell me what you see.
Trnavarta looked up, out into the vastness of space.
I see...the same thing I saw within you, Lord! The world, the planets, the movements of the celestial orbs...it is exactly the same!
And what else do you see? Beyond that?
Trnavarta craned his neck, his breath hitching now, his chest straining for air.
I see...you, my Lord! Your teeth, your lips, your throat, your tongue...all that heavenly beauty is contained within your mouth. You bear the universe within yourself. There is proof! I can see it with...with...my own eyes...
Trnavarta fell to the ground, clutching his chest, gasping. He reached out and caught hold of Krishna’s left foot, then pulled himself closer until his forehead touched the sole of that baby foot.
Lord...
Krishna reached out and touched Trnavarta’s forehead. The asura gasped one final breath, then released a long plaintive sigh. Motes of his being drifted out of his mouth, floating away into space. This time, they would not return to rejoin the rest of his body. The wind had been taken out of the wind demon for the last time.
Krishna looked around. The island of uprooted earth had travelled far beyond the earth’s affectionate pull. It was now floating out into the ether. Soon, it would be out among the other planets and then it would travel to the distant stars.
Even his physical body required air. And air was in short supply here. He must return to earth, to the comforting pull of Prithvi Maa and her warm envelope of life-giving air.
He puffed his chubby cheeks and blew slowly. He had to be very careful, for the air in his lungs was the only air left. Once it was gone, he would have no other recourse.
He blew harder, feeling the forward momentum of the island slow, then stop. Harder now. And the island was starting to move slowly in the opposite direction. Back towards Mother Earth.
Faster now. Blowing harder. Travelling faster. Blowing fast and furious. Moving at great speed.
And then, that was it. The breath in his l
ungs was gone. His chest heaved, seeking air desperately.
He glanced back. He could see himself hurtling back towards the planet of his birth, picking up speed.
He gasped as the first vestiges of air began to enter his lungs again. There was barely enough to breathe but it was enough, just enough. He sucked it in greedily.
Then the edges of the island began to shimmer, then blaze as the speed and intensity of their re-entry caused great friction. The leaves of the trees on the island caught fire, then the grass blazed up around him, then every last bush and creeper and vine and tree trunk caught fire. Time to leave this place!
He stood, taking an instant to balance his clumsy pudgy body, then bent and leaped upwards. Upwards and away.
He flew through the air, propelled not by any force or power but by the pull of Prithvi Maa alone. Wind, blessed wind, blew across his face. He plummeted down towards earth, as the island fell on its own, turning over and over itself now, starting to break apart into pieces and clods and burning wisps. The body of the dead asura fell with it.
Krishna descended upon the earth.
16
The crowd favored their own men, naturally. The roar of approval that met Crooked Jaw and his team as they took their positions was deafening. Kamsa glanced around the stadium. There must be a thousand score soldiers assembled here tonight, most of them drunk and battle fogged from the day’s fighting. He had seen similar events often before but never on this scale. All armies needed some way to release the day’s frustrations and pain. But what Jarasandha had done here was unprecedented. He had sponsored the biggest mass entertainment venue ever heard of, and by centering it around a game involving war stratagem with their own champions, he had made it personal and involving for the men. This must be the highlight of the day for the men gathered here, those that survived the day’s fighting anyway. He saw any number of men exchanging notes and coins in substantive quantities and understood that betting was not only permitted, it was being encouraged. Of course! Jarasandha would be managing the betting and profiting from it as well. He was the ‘house’, so to speak. And as Kamsa knew well, whether you won or lost, the house always won. Leave it to Jarasandha to find a way to not only boost morale and relieve tension but also profit from it! The consummate multi-caster, merchant and warrior and king and priest, all rolled into one.
KRISHNA CORIOLIS#3: Flute of Vrindavan Page 10
