A Story of Dwapar Yuga in Prose : ( part-10 A)

A Story of Dwapar Yuga in Prose : ( part-10 A)

By Lokanath Mishra

Long ago, in the land of Vraja, the sky would fill with shining gods who came just to watch little Krishna play. Early in the morning, Mother Yashoda and Mother Rohini would get busy, dressing little Rama and Krishna with so much love. Krishna wore bright yellow clothes, a little dot of sandalwood paste on his forehead, a pearl necklace on his chest, and shining kohl around his eyes. His hair was tied up with a beautiful peacock feather. His smile was so sweet that even the beauty of the three worlds seemed smaller next to him. Rama, dressed in blue, looked just as handsome.

All the village women, the gopis, could not stop thinking about Krishna. They would finish their housework as quickly as possible just to come near Nanda’s house. Everyone wanted to hold Krishna, feed him, and kiss him. They would tempt the children by saying, “Bring Krishna to my house, and I will give you sweets!” The children would take Krishna and Balarama to the gopis, who would feed them butter, curd, and treats with so much love. Some even held Krishna in their laps and fed him with their own hands.

As Krishna grew a little older, he became the leader of the village children. Their favorite game was to sneak into the gopis’ homes and steal butter and curd when no one was looking. They would eat happily and sometimes even break the pots, leaving the gopis upset. At last, the gopis came together and complained to Yashoda, who smiled and said, “My house is full of milk and butter. Why would he need to steal from you? But if you catch him in the act, bring him to me and I will scold him.”

One day, Krishna came running home, hungry and calling for food. But Yashoda was busy with her work and asked him to wait. Krishna became upset, broke the pot of curd, ate all the butter, and ran away to hide. When Yashoda saw what had happened, she picked up a stick and chased him. Krishna ran as fast as he could, laughing, but finally, seeing his mother tired and out of breath, he let her catch him.

Yashoda decided to tie Krishna to a heavy mortar so he wouldn’t run away again. But something strange happened. Every rope she tried was just two fingers too short. She tied more rope, and it was still short! Only when Krishna himself agreed did the rope finally fit, and Yashoda tied her little boy. The gopis who were watching laughed and teased Yashoda, saying that all the ropes in the house had been used just to tie one naughty child.

Little Krishna, still smiling, dragged the heavy mortar across the yard, crawling on his knees. Slowly he squeezed between two tall Arjuna trees. The mortar got stuck between them, and with one strong pull, Krishna made both trees fall to the ground with a loud crash. From the fallen trees came two shining beings — Nalakuvara and Manigriva, the sons of Kubera, the god of wealth. Long ago, they had been cursed by the sage Narada to become trees because of their pride. They bowed down to Krishna, thanked him for freeing them, and returned to the heavens.

The sound of the falling trees brought Nanda and all the villagers running. They wondered how such big trees could fall when there was no storm and no wind. Yashoda became worried, thinking her child might have been hurt. She cried and cried until the children pointed and said that Krishna had crawled between the trees and made them fall. Nanda climbed over the branches, found Krishna safe, and picked him up. He kissed him again and again with tears of relief.

Yashoda quickly took Krishna back home, checked every part of his little body to make sure he was not hurt, and prayed to all the gods to protect her precious child. That very day, a sacred ritual was performed to remove all bad luck and keep Krishna safe from harm.

And once again, Krishna smiled his sweet smile, as if nothing had happened at all, filling everyone’s heart with joy.

( to be continued)

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