And now, seeing the relaxed, smiling faces of passers-by on the avenue, the uks carts trundling to and fro, horse riders and pedestrians coming and going with a bustling energy that was infectious and reassuring, he felt vindicated. Peace had won out in the end. Fragile though it was, it was the only way to ensure a future for their children and their children to come.
The royal enclave had changed too since he had last been there. Security was stricter than ever, but gone were the loutish oafs who had been too quick with their weapons and too sharp with their tongues. In their place were tough but straightforward men whose queries were terse but to the point and who let them pass without any fuss. Nanda was relieved when he drew the uks cart to a halt in front of Devaki’s palace. He had had nightmarish visions of sentries poking spears through the sides and underside of the uks cart, searching for the Slayer. Even now, he had only brought the women and boys there because Yashoda had insisted firmly, and when she set her mind to do something, he had no hope of convincing her to do otherwise. It was odd, though: Yashoda was the one who had wanted to visit Mathura with Rohini and both boys. But she was also the one who seemed most concerned about the risks of taking two infants to a city where infants their age had been indiscriminately slaughtered without mercy not long ago. He sighed as he handed the reins of the uks to one of Vasudeva’s men, a distant clansman of Nanda’s own brother-in-law, and put the worries out of his mind. He was seeing his old friends after too long to waste precious time with anxieties and fears.
A familiar voice made him break out of his reverie.
‘Nanda Maharaja!’ Akrur said, greeting him with a roar and hearty back-slapping.‘You look thin, old friend. Has Yashoda- devi not been feeding you well?’
‘She has, she has,’ Nanda said, patting his belly. ‘Here is proof. If I look leaner, it’s on account of all the additional running around and work that fatherhood entails!’
Akrur glanced over at the women and boys, then whispered into Nanda’s ear,‘Vasudeva and Devaki have been awaiting this day with more excitement than you can imagine. It is a very vital day in the itihasa of the Yadavas, old friend.’
Nanda frowned, wondering what Akrur meant by that. He finally assumed it had something to do with his clansman’s other rumoured activities. As they walked up the luxurious but elegantly understated corridors and halls of Devaki’s princely residence, he asked Akrur quietly:‘Is it true, then? You lead the Yadu rebellion against Jarasandha?’
Akrur glanced at him, his teeth flashing in a wry grin.‘Don’t you know? I am a wanted man. Wanted for questioning at least, if not treason. I am to be apprehended on sight, and killed if I resist. There are soldiers scouring the outposts of the nation in search of me.’
Nanda stopped dead in his tracks. The women and boys, walking ahead, went on without realizing that he had stopped. ‘And you are here? In the very heart of Kamsa’s garrison? In the royal enclave? There must be an entire akshohini stationed within shouting distance!’
Akrur grinned again, raking a hand through his hair, which he had allowed to grow out, Nanda noted. ‘Three akshohinis, actually. Two are stationed in the new military cantonment outside the city. Also, Jarasandha left behind some of his most trusted and feared champions. Officially, they are here to ensure that his trade agreements and other interests are looked after well, but in fact, they are all demons in human form, asuras possessed of terrible powers, each capable of taking on an akshohini himself. I would be more afraid of any one of them finding me here than I would be if all three akshohinis arrived at once!’
Nanda stared at him, nonplussed. ‘And yet you are here?’
Akrur clapped a hand on Nanda’s shoulder. ‘I am here to persuade Vasudeva to leave Mathura. He is in as much danger as I am. I hope your visit will help us convince him of the necessity of going into exile at once. I know he cannot stomach the notion, but it is the only way left. That is why, when I heard you were coming, I made it a point to double back and slip in. If your visit does not convince him, nothing will.’
Nanda frowned, raising his hands in protest.‘But, Bhraatr, I have no great influence over Vasudeva. I can speak to him, of course, and will be happy to do so. But my knowledge of politics is too limited for me to fully understand the complexities involved here, let alone persuade anyone else.’
Akrur laughed, throwing his head back and giving Nanda a fleeting glimpse of his uvula. ‘Ah, Nanda Maharaja, ever the simple gopa! My friend, I didn’t mean you personally. I meant your son Krishna. He is the one I hope will persuade Vasudeva to leave Mathura and go into exile. Now go meet your old friends. I shall remain at the entrance to this part of the palace and ensure that nobody who wishes any of you harm comes to disturb you.’
And he clapped his hand on Nanda’s back once again, turning back to go down the corridor to the last doorway, leaving Nanda wondering what in the world he meant: How could a one-year-old infant who could not yet speak more than a word or three persuade the king of the Vrishnis to go into exile?
eleven
Devaki sensed Krishna’s presence long before he entered her chambers.
Maatr, I am coming to see you!
Yes, my son, I am waiting eagerly.
Bhraatr Balarama is coming with me as well. Remember, every kiss and hug you give him, you must give me two in return!
And he had gurgled mischievously.
All the while, as he had approached, she had grown increasingly tense and excited in anticipation. Vasudeva had paced the room endlessly, as anxious as a would-be father awaiting a message from the daimaas tending his wife in delivery. In a sense, she thought, the comparison was apt. Vasudeva would be meeting his sons for the very first time. If not quite a a day of birthing, it was a day of rebirth–for the house of Vasudeva,and for all the Yadava people. The day would herald a new beginning. Devaki could not recall being this excited even on the day of her nuptials; but perhaps that was due to that day turning out so badly. She hoped and prayed that this day would not turn out as badly. She could not bear further pain or misery. As it was, the very thought of having her infant son – the very eighth child mentioned in the prophecy – within shouting distance of the very man who sought his destruction was shredding her nerves. What if Kamsa somehow found out about Krishna’s visit? What if he suspected that this was in fact Devaki and Vasudeva’s son? What if he arrived at any moment?
Do not fret so, Maatr. All will be well. Kamsa-mama knows nothing of our visit here. He will not know a thing until it is time for him to know.
What does that mean, she wondered. Until it is time. Did Krishna mean ...
But then the time for anxiety and worries was past. Krishna was here – she sensed his imminent entrance as strongly as she felt the fear and anxiety leave her mind, leaving only an all- pervasive sense of calm and joy.
When Krishna entered the room, still carried tenderly by Yashoda, Devaki gasped and sprang to her feet. Vasudeva stopped pacing and swung around, eyes wide, mouth open. Whatever they had both thought, dreamt of, felt until now, was irrelevant. The past was past, the future was unknown, and there was only the present moment – one in which everything was perfect and their hearts and minds filled with infinite love and understanding and acceptance and patience and tolerance. Nothing was worth worrying about, nothing worth fearing. There was only love, and it was infinite and it filled their consciousness.
A Tulsi plant in the courtyard of Devaki’s palace, withered and rotting since the past ten years, unresponsive to every effort to make it grow, turned green and soft and grew prodigiously until its faint but distinct scent filled the courtyard and made everyone in the outer household pause and look up. It would grow evergreen for decades now, even if not watered or cared for.
A female dog who had given a litter of pups in the backyard, and who was in danger of losing half the litter as well as her own life due to complications resulting from the birth, suddenly felt her bleeding cease and her entire being fill with a sense of vigour and good health, a
s if she herself had just been born anew.
Every last one of her pups survived and lived a long healthy life. She herself lived an incredibly long life, eventually birthing an unheard-of number of litters, every last one of which survived to the last pup, causing the locals to dub her Sarama, after the celestial Maatr of dog-kind.
A large bell – intended for a Brahma temple that was to be built upon a hill, and which rested on the ground and had been kept there only the day before – began pealing steadily upon a hill nearby. The bell-maker’s apprentice, frightened out of his wits, went racing downhill to fetch his master, who returned shortly and scratched his head in wonderment as a crowd gathered to view the miracle. What baffled the bell-maker and his apprentice, as well as all the other witnesses, was the fact that the bell was merely a bowl of metal still – the striking rod had not yet been installed inside it, nor had the bell been hung. It was sitting on the ground, with nobody within yards of it. So how did it ring? The preceptor of the gotra sub-caste that was building the temple advised his people to dedicate the temple to Adhoksaja, a form of Vishnu, instead of Brahma. They did so, and for centuries thereafter, the bell would ring every day at that exact time, even without a striker inside it or anyone touching so much as a finger to it.
All those within the household who were ill, ailing, or subjected to any condition, felt themselves glowing from within; as if a beneficial heat blossomed within their bodies, a not unpleasant sensation, and when it passed, leaving a light sheen of perspiration on their skin, they found their coughs and backaches and indigestion and broken legs and irregular heart rhythm and straining kidneys and other ailments healed and their bodies healthier than ever before.
Many similar miracles that have been forgotten by the recorders and editors of itihasa occurred that day.
Within the private chambers of Vasudeva and Devaki, no less a miracle was unfolding.
Yashoda had come in bearing Krishna in her arms. Yet within moments, she felt him grow heavier and heavier, as if some immense weight was dragging him down, until finally she could not possibly bear him aloft any longer. She sought to put him down, but to her surprise he leapt out of her arms. She cried out, fearing that he would fall and come to harm, but instead he remained where he had leapt, in mid-air, floating. He gurgled happily, spreading his arms and legs; a blinding blue glow emanated from him, filling the entire chamber and shutting out all other light, rendering pale even the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows into the background.
It was as if the entire chamber had turned black as night, the walls and furnishings disappearing, to leave only a black void in which floated Krishna, naked as the day he was born, and adorned with the tikka and other accoutrements and jewellery that Yashoda had put upon him as was her wont. He chuckled and turned to look at his brother Balarama, who stood on the floor, legs apart, as if guarding against anything or anyone that might approach. A similar glow emanated from Balarama too, but it was impossible to tell where Balarama’s blue corona ended and Krishna’s began. They blended one into the other, producing a pervasive light that was one and the same.
Unable to contain herself, Devaki fell to her feet, sobbing with joy and relief.
‘Krishna! My son!’ she cried.
She wanted to embrace and kiss him, but knew that she would get her chance later. She had waited this long; she could wait a few moments longer. She was just happy to be in the young one’s presence.
Vasudeva lowered himself to his knees as well, beside his wife. He joined his hands together in a namaskar. ‘Great and blessed child. You do us proud by this visit. It gives us immense joy to behold you with our own eyes at last. You do not know how we have longed for this moment.’
Krishna’s baby voice chuckled. Echoing off the very walls of the room, it filled the minds of all four adults present in those chambers.
I do know, Pitr. I have felt every mite of pain you have experienced and I regret you and Maatr having to feel such emotions at all. But being human means feeling pain as well as joy, loss along with love, grief as well as celebration. Even I cannot remove such emotions permanently.
Vasudeva bowed his head in acknowledgement of his son’s infinite wisdom.‘What welcome sorrow it was when we parted, that it enabled me to feel this joy of reunion.’
How wise you are. No wonder you fathered me in this avatar. I could not have hoped for a better pitr upon this mortal realm. Only Nanda Maharaja here, who is also my pitr, can compare with you. For what you possess in wisdom and quietude, he possesses in vitality and rustic good sense.
Nanda started at this mention of his name, and dropped to his knees as well, staring at the incredible sight of his son floating in mid-air in a halo of blazing blue light. Beside him, Yashoda exchanged a secret smile with Rohini.
‘Let me hold you, my son! I have been waiting to embrace you and your bhraatr for so long!’ Devaki said passionately, holding out her arms, tears flowing down her cheeks.
Krishna’s voice turned sombre now, and his change of mood was matched by a corresponding shift in the hue of the blue light emanating from him. The light grew darker somehow, a deeper, graver blue.
In a moment, I shall embrace you and you may hug and kiss and bestow as much affection upon me as you wish, Pitr and Maatr. But first, there are things I must say to you and that you must heed well. My visit here is not merely to be reunited with you, my biological parents in this lifetime. I have another purpose. I have come here to warn you that your lives are in grave danger. Kamsa has decided to have you secretly assassinated in a manner that will leave no finger of suspicion pointing at him.
Vasudeva and Devaki looked at one another.
‘Akrur has been saying the same thing,’ Vasudeva said sombrely.‘Yet what can I do? I will not take up arms and plunge Mathura into civil strife yet again.’
There is only one way. You must leave Mathura.
Vasudeva shook his head firmly. ‘I will not go into exile and leave my kinsmen here to suffer the yoke of Kamsa’s unjust rule. So long as Kamsa stays in power, I must stay. The people look up to me as a symbol of hope, as someone who would lead the charge in overthrowing the Usurper and restoring King Ugrasena to the throne. If I go, it will break their hearts and crush their hopes. I cannot do such a thing.’
I did not say you should go into exile. I am merely suggesting that you leave Mathura for a while. Travel. Take Maatr and go on a long journey. I sense that both of you have passionately desired to visit several pilgrimage sites, to offer gratitude and appreciation for my bhraatr’s birth and mine, and our continued survival despite the Childslayer’s cruel campaign. Now is the time to set forth upon that pilgrimage. Visit Badrikashrama, which Maatr has longed to visit for years. Go to every site your heart desires to take you. Offer thanks to your deities. You have accomplished a great task. Now you must take a back seat and preserve yourselves until you are required once again to play your parts upon this great stage of life. When the time comes, I shall summon you back to Mathura. And that is when you shall achieve all your dreams of setting Mathura free of the tyrant’s yoke and restoring this great land to her former glory. All your dreams shall come true, my beloved pitr and maatr, but all in their own time. Do as I say and you shall have no cause to regret it. You know I speak the truth as it was spoken in Satya Yuga.
Vasudeva and Devaki were silent. They looked at one another, faces revealing expressions of wonderment and even joy.
‘It is true,’ Devaki said. ‘I do desire greatly to visit Badrikashrama. And many other holy sites.’
Vasudeva nodded gravely. ‘A pilgrimage is righteously deserved and called for at this time. We have succeeded in doing the impossible. We have brought the Slayer of Kamsa into this world as well as his brother who will aid him. Krishna is right. Until Kamsa is disposed of, there is nothing much I can do. Akrur is managing the rebellion and the talks with other allies quite well and I can continue to do my part even from abroad. Each day we remain here, we are only an affron
t to Kamsa and a challenge to his authority. If indeed he has found a way to bring about our deaths without drawing suspicion to himself, we would die without fulfilling our dreams.’
Mathura needs you both alive tomorrow. Not dead today.
Vasudevasighedandnodded.‘It shall be as you say, Krishna. We shall go this very day. Akrur had suggested that we use your visit as a cover for our own departure. When you leave this palace, Devaki and I shall stow away in the same uks cart. Once outside the city, Akrur and our allies will arrange transport for us for our onward journey. I should have seen the logic of his advice earlier, for he is constantly in touch with the goings-on of the nation and is better informed of the shifting tides of politics, while I have been too long removed from these things. But I was being stubborn and foolish. You have made me see clearly again, my son.’
Krishna chuckled loudly, clapping his hands in joy. His blue aura grew lighter, brightening with his happier mood. It increased in intensity and lightness, warming the spirits of everyone present.
Even Akrur, stationed at the entrance to the private chambers and ever vigilant, felt his heart, burdened with the pressures and stresses of rebellion and politics, lighten.
Now, come embrace and kiss me as much as you please.
After that, there was much hugging and kissing. Perhaps more than was warranted. Then again, how does one decide how much hugging and kissing is too much or just enough? In such matters, it’s always advisable to err on the side of generosity rather than on the side of caution. Smack. Kiss. Hug. Repeat as often as needed or until too tired to continue further.
KRISHNA CORIOLIS#2: Dance of Govinda Page 20
