VISHNU PURAN BOOK V. CHAP. VI.VII

 

VISHNU PURAN BOOK V. CHAP. VI.VII

 

Krishna overturns a waggon; casts down two trees. The Gopas depart to Vrindavana. Sports of the boys. Description of the season of the rains.

 

ON one occasion, whilst Madhusudana was asleep underneath the waggon, he cried for the breast, and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle, and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. The cowherds and their wives, hearing the noise, came exclaiming, "Ah! ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have upset the waggon?" said the cowherds. "This child," replied some boys, who witnessed the circumstance; "we saw him," said they, "crying, and kicking the waggon with his feet, and so it was overturned: no one else had any thing to do with it." The cowherds were exceedingly astonished at this account; and Nanda, not knowing what to think, took up the boy; whilst Yas'oda offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the waggon, with curds, flowers, fruit, and unbruised grain.

 

The initiatory rites requisite for the two boys were performed by Garga, who was sent to Gokula by Vasudeva for that purpose: he celebrated them without the knowledge of the cowherds [*1]; and the wise sage, eminent amongst the wise, named the elder of them Rama, and the other Krishna. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees, and creeping every where, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohini nor Yas'oda was able to prevent them from getting into the cowpens, or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. As they disregarded the prohibitions of Yas'oda, and rambled about together constantly, she became angry, and taking up a stick, followed them, and threatened the dark-complexioned Krishna with a whipping. Fastening a cord round his waist, she tied him to the wooden mortar [*2], and being in a great passion, she said to him, "Now, you naughty boy, get away from hence if you can." She then went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had departed, the lotus-eyed Krishna, endeavouring to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between two Arjuna trees that grew near together: having dragged the mortar between these trees, it became wedged awry there, and as Krishna pulled it through, it pulled down the trunks of the trees. Hearing the crackling noise, the people of Vraja came to see what was the matter, and there they beheld the two large trees, with shattered stems and broken branches, prostrate on the ground, with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing, and shewing his white little teeth, just budded. It is hence that Krishna is called Damodara, from the binding of the rope (dama) round his belly (udara) [*3]. The elders of the cowherds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as of evil omen. "We cannot remain in this place," said they; "let us go to some other part of the forest; for here many evil signs threaten us with destruction; the death of Putana, the upsetting of the waggon, and the fall of the trees without their being blown down by the wind. Let us depart hence without delay, and go to Vrindavana, where terrestrial prodigies may no more disturb us."

 

Having thus resolved, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families, and desired them to move without delay. Accordingly they set off with their waggons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; the fragments of their household stores they threw away, and in an instant Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindavana was chosen by Krishna, whom acts do not affect, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine; for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as verdantly as in the rains. Having repaired, then, from Vraja to Vrindavana, the inhabitants of the former drew up their waggons in the form of a crescent [*4].

 

As the two boys, Rama and Damodara, grew up, they were ever together in the same place, and engaged in the same boyish sports. They made themselves crests of the peacocks' plumes, and garlands of forest flowers, and musical instruments of leaves and reeds, or played upon the pipes used by the cowherds: their hair was trimmed like the wings of the crow [*5], and they resembled two young princes, portions of the deity of war: they were robust, and they roamed about, always laughing and playing, sometimes with each other, sometimes with other boys; driving along with the young cowherds the calves to pasture. Thus the two guardians of the world were keepers of cattle, until they had attained seven years of age, in the cow-pens of Vrindavan.

 

Then came on the season of the rains, when the atmosphere laboured with accumulated clouds, and the quarters of the horizon were blended into one by the driving showers. The waters of the rivers rose, and overflowed their banks, and spread beyond all bounds, like the minds of the weak and wicked transported beyond restraint by sudden prosperity. The pure radiance of the moon was obscured by heavy vapours, as the lessons of holy writ are darkened by the arrogant scoffs of fools (and unbelievers). The bow of Indra held its place in the heavens all unstrung, like a worthless man elevated by an injudicious prince to honour. The white line of storks appeared upon the back of the cloud, in such contrast as the bright conduct of a man of respectability opposes to the behaviour of a scoundrel. The ever-fitful lightning, in its new alliance with the sky, was like the friendship of a profligate for a man of worth. Overgrown by the spreading grain, the paths were indistinctly traced, like the speech of the ignorant, that conveys no positive meaning.

 

At this time Krishna and Rama, accompanied by the cow-boys, traversed the forests, that echoed with the hum of bees and the peacock's cry. Sometimes they sang in chorus, or danced together; sometimes they sought shelter from the cold beneath the trees; sometimes they decorated themselves with flowery garlands, sometimes with peacocks' feathers; sometimes they stained themselves of various hues with the minerals of the mountain; sometimes weary they reposed on beds of leaves, and sometimes imitated in mirth the muttering of the thundercloud; sometimes they excited their juvenile associates to sing, and sometimes they mimicked the cry of the peacock with their pipes. In this manner participating in various feelings and emotions, and affectionately attached to each other, they wandered, sporting and happy, through the wood. At eveningtide came Krishna and Balarama, like two cow-boys, along with the cows and the cowherds. At eveningtide the two immortals, having come to the cow-pens, joined heartily in whatever sports amused the sons of the herdsmen.

 

Footnotes

 

^508:1 The Bhagavata describes Garga's interview with Nanda, and the inducements of the latter to keep the former's celebration of the Sanskaras, or initiatory rites of the two boys, secret from the Gopas. Garga there describes himself as the Purdhit, or family priest, of the Yadavas.

 

^508:2 The Ulukhala, or mortar is a large [p. 509] wooden bowl on a solid stand of timber, both cut out of one piece; the pestle is also of wood; and they are used chiefly for bruising or threshing unwinnowed corn, and separating the chaff from the grain. As important agents in household economy, they are regarded as sacred, and even hymned in the Vedas.

 

^509:3 Our text, and that of the Hari Vans'a, take no notice of the legend of Nalakuvera and Manigriva, sons of Kuvera, who, according to the Bhagavata, had been metamorphosed, through a curse of Narada, into these two trees, and for whose liberation this feat of Krishna was intended.

 

^510:4 The Hari Vans'a, not satisfied with the prodigies which had alarmed the cowherds, adds another, not found, it is believed, any where else. The emigration, according to that work, originates, not with the Gopas, but the two boys, who wish to go to Vrindavana, and in order to compel the removal, Krishna converts the hairs of his body into hundreds of wolves, who so harass and alarm the inhabitants of Vraja, that they determine to abandon their homes.

 

^510:5 The Kaka-paksha, or crow's wing, implies the hair left on each side of the head, the top being shaved.

 

    

 

 

CHAP. VII.

 

Krishna combats the serpent Kaliya: alarm of his parents and companions: he overcomes the serpent, and is propitiated by him: commands him to depart from the Yamuna river to the ocean.

 

ONE day Krishna, unaccompanied by Rama, went to Vrindavan: he was attended by a troop of cowherds, and gaily decorated with wild flowers. On his way he came to the Yamuna, which was flowing in sportive undulations, and sparkling with foam, as if with smiles, as the waves dashed against the borders. Within its bed, however, was the fearful pool of the serpent Kaliya, boiling with the fires of poison [*1]; from the fumes of which, large trees upon the bank were blighted, and by whose waters, when raised by a gale into the air, birds were scorched. Beholding this dreadful lake, which was like another mouth of death, Madhusudana reflected that the wicked and poisonous Kaliya, who had been vanquished by himself (in the person of Garuda), and had been obliged to fly from the ocean (where he had inhabited the island Ramanaka), must be lurking at its bottom, and defiling the Yamuna, the consort of the sea, so that neither men nor cattle could slake their thirst by her waters. Such being the case, he determined to dislodge the Naga, and enable the dwellers of Vraja to frequent the vicinage without fear; for it was the especial purpose he considered of his descent upon earth to reduce to subjection all such violators of law. "Here," thought he, "is a Kadamba tree, which is sufficiently near; I can climb up it, and thence leap into the serpent's pool." Having thus resolved, he bound his clothes tightly about him, and jumped boldly into the lake of the serpent-king. The waters, agitated by his plunge amidst them, were scattered to a considerable distance from the bank, and the spray falling upon the trees, they were immediately set on fire by the heat of the poisonous vapour combined with the water; and the whole horizon was in a blaze. Krishna, having dived into the pool, struck his arms in defiance [*3], and the snake-king, hearing the sound, quickly came forth: his eyes were coppery red, and his hoods were flaming with deadly venom: he was attended by many other powerful and poisonous snakes, feeders upon air, and by hundreds of serpent-nymphs, decorated with rich jewels, whose earrings glittered with trembling radiance as the wearers moved along. Coiling themselves around Krishna, they all bit him with teeth from which fiery poison was emitted. Krishna's companions, beholding him in the lake, encompassed by the snakes, twining around him, ran off to Vraja, lamenting and bewailing aloud his fate. "Krishna," they called out, "has foolishly plunged into the serpent's pool, and is there bitten to death by the snake-king! Come and see." The cowherds and their wives and Yas'oda, hearing this news, which was like a thunderbolt, ran immediately to the pool, frightened out of their senses, and crying, "Alas! alas! where is he?" The Gopis were retarded by Yas'oda, who in her agitation stumbled and slipped at every step; but Nanda and the cowherds and the invincible Rama hastened to the banks of the Yamuna, eager to assist Krishna. There they beheld him apparently in the power of the serpent-king, encompassed by twining snakes, and making no effort to escape. Nanda, as soon as he set his eyes upon his son, became senseless; and Yas'oda also, when she beheld him, lost all consciousness. The Gopis, overcome with sorrow, wept, and called affectionately, and with convulsive sobs, upon Kes'ava. "Let us all," said they, "plunge with Yas'oda into the fearful pool of the serpent-king. We cannot return to Vraja; for what is day, without the sun? what night, without the moon? what is a herd of heifers, without its lord? what is Vraja, without Krishna? Deprived of him, we will go no more to Gokula. The forest will lose its delights; it will be like a lake without water. When this dark lotus leaf complexioned Hari is not present, there is no joy in the maternal dwelling. How strange is this! And as for you, ye cowherds, how, poor beings, will you live amidst the pastures, when you no longer behold the brilliant lotus eyes of Hari? Our hearts have been wiled away by the music of his voice. We will not go without Pundarikaksha to the folds of Nanda. Even now, though held in the coils of the serpent-king, see, friends, hew his face brightens with smiles as we gaze upon him."

 

When the mighty son of Rohini, Balarama, heard these exclamations of the Gopis, and with disdainful glance beheld the cowherds overcome with terror, Nanda gazing fixedly upon the countenance of his son, and Yas'oda unconscious, he spake to Krishna in his own character: "What is this, O god of gods! the quality of mortal is sufficiently assumed; dost thou not know thyself eternal? Thou art the centre of creation, as the nave is of the spokes of a wheel. A portion of thee have I also been born, as thy senior. The gods, to partake of thy pastimes as man, have all descended under a like disguise; and the goddesses have come down to Gokula to join in thy sports. Thou, eternal, hast last of all appeared below. Wherefore, Krishna, dost thou disregard these divinities, who, as cowherds, are thy friends and kin? these sorrowing females, who also are thy relations? Thou hast put on the character of man; thou hast exhibited the tricks of childhood: now let this fierce snake, though armed with venomed fangs, be subdued (by thy celestial vigour)."

 

Thus reminded of his real character by Rama, Krishna smiled gently, and speedily extricated himself from the coils of the snakes. Laying hold of the middle hood of their chief with both his hands, he bent it down, and set his foot upon the hitherto unbended head, and danced upon it in triumph. Wherever the snake attempted to raise his head, it was again trodden down, and many bruises were inflicted on the hood by the pressure of the toes of Krishna. Trampled upon by the feet of Krishna, as they changed position in the dance, the snake fainted, and vomited forth much blood [*3]. Beholding the head and neck of their lord thus injured, and the blood flowing from his mouth, the females of the snake-king implored the clemency of Madhusudana. "Thou art recognised, O god of gods!" they exclaimed; "thou art the sovereign of all; thou art light supreme, inscrutable; thou art the mighty lord, the portion of that supreme light. The gods themselves are unable worthily to praise thee, the lord self-existent: how then shall females proclaim thy nature? How shall we fully declare him of whom the egg of Brahma, made up of earth, sky, water, fire, and air, is but a small portion of a part? Holy sages have in vain sought to know thy eternal essence. We bow to that form which is the most subtile of atoms, the largest of the large; to him whose birth is without a creator, whose end knows no destroyer, and who alone is the cause of duration. There is no wrath in thee; for thine is the protection of the world; and hence this chastisement of Kaliya. Yet hear us. Women are to be regarded with pity by the virtuous: animals are humanely treated even by fools. Let therefore the author of wisdom have compassion upon this poor creature. Thyself, as an oviparous, hooded snake, art the upholder of the world. Oppressed by thee, he will speedily perish. What is this feeble serpent, compared to thee in whom the universe reposes? Friendship and enmity are felt towards equals and superiors, not for those infinitely beneath us. Then, sovereign of the world, have mercy upon us. This unfortunate snake is about to expire: give us, as a gift of charity, our husband."

 

When they had thus spoken, the Naga himself, almost exanimate, repeated feebly their solicitations for mercy. "Forgive me," the murmured, "O god of gods! How shall I address thee, who art possessed, through thine own strength and essence, of the eight great faculties, in energy unequalled? Thou art the supreme, the progenitor of the supreme (Brahma): thou art the supreme spirit, and from thee the supreme proceeds: thou art beyond all finite objects; how can I speak thy praise? How can I declare his greatness, from whom cone Brahma, Rudra, Chandra, Indra, the Maruts, the Aswins, the Vasus, and Adityas; of whom the whole world is an infinitely small portion, a portion destined to represent his essence; and whose nature, primitive or derived, Brahma and the immortals do not comprehend? How can I approach him, to whom the gods offer incense and flowers culled from the groves of Nandana; whose incarnate forms the king of the deities ever adores, unconscious of his real person; whom the sages, that have withdrawn their senses from all external objects, worship in thought, and enshrining his image in the purposes of their hearts, present to it the flowers of sanctity [*4]? I am quite unable, O god of gods, to worship or to hymn thee. Thy own clemency must alone influence thy mind to shew me compassion. It is the nature of snakes to be savage, and I am born of their kind: hence this is my nature, not mine offence. The world is created, as it is destroyed, by thee; and the species, form, and nature of all things in the world are thy work. Even such as thou hast created me in kind, in form, and in nature, such I am, and such are my actions: should I act differently, then indeed should I deserve thy punishment, for so thou hast declared [*5]. Yet that I have been punished by thee is indeed a blessing; for punishment from thee alone is a favour. Behold I am now without strength, without poison; deprived of both by thee. Spare me my life; I ask no more. Command me what I shall do."

 

Being thus addressed by Kaliya, Krishna replied, "You must not tarry here, nor any where in the stream of the Yamuna; depart immediately, with your family and followers, to the sea; where Garuda, the foe of the serpent race, will not harm you, when he sees the impressions of my feet upon your brow." So saying, Hari set the snake-king at liberty, who, bowing reverentially to his victor, departed to the ocean; abandoning, in the sight of all, the lake he had haunted, accompanied by all his females, children, and dependants. When the snake was gone, the Gopas hailed Govinda, as one risen from the dead, and embraced him, and bathed his forehead with tears of joy: others, contemplating the water of the river, now freed from peril, were filled with wonder, and sang the praise of Krishna, who is unaffected by works. Thus eminent by his glorious exploits, and eulogized by the Gopas and Gopas, Krishna returned to Vraja.

 

Footnotes

 

^512:1 The commentator says this means nothing more than that the waters of the pool were hot. I do not know if hot springs have been found in the bed or on the borders of the Jumna: the hot well of Sita-kund, near Mongir, is not far from the Ganges.

 

^513:3 Slapping the upper part of one arm with the hand of the other is a common act of defiance amongst Indian athletae.

 

^514:3 The expressions are ### and ### and Rechaka and Dandapata, which are said to be different dispositions of the feet in dancing; variations of the bhrama or pirouette; the latter is the a-plomb or descent. It is also read Dandapada-nipata, the falling of the feet, like that of a club.

 

^516:4 Bhava-pushpas: there are said to be eight such flowers, clemency, self-restraint, tenderness, patience, resignation, devotion, meditation, and truth.

 

^516:5 Both in the Vedas and in the institutes of law; where it is enjoined that every one shall discharge the duties of his caste and condition, and any deviation from them merits punishment; as by the texts 'In following prohibited observances, a person is punishable' and 'Who does acts unsuited to his natural disposition, incurs guilt.'

 

    

The Vishnu Purana, translated by Horace Hayman Wilson.