A Story of Dvapar Yuga in Prose ( part-10-B)

A Story of Dvapar Yuga in Prose ( part-10-B)

By Lokanath Mishra:

Krishna and the Fruit-Seller

(and the Butter Mischief in Vrindavan)

Long ago, in the little village of Vrindavan, lived a poor old fruit seller named Kolibali. She was nearly sixty years old and worked very hard every day.

Early in the morning, Kolibali would walk deep into the forest, searching for berries, wood apples, bananas, mangoes, and other fruits. She filled her big basket and carried it on her head back to the village. Then she walked from house to house, calling out,

“Fruits! Fresh fruits! Sweet berries!”

People would come out and buy fruits from her. They paid her with a few cowrie shells, some rice, or paddy grains. Sometimes, they gave her food or clothes. This was how she lived.

But one day was especially hard for poor Kolibali.

She had walked through the entire village, calling out again and again, but not a single person had bought anything. Her basket was still full. Her feet hurt, her throat was dry, and her stomach was empty.

“If I go home with all these fruits, it means I must fast today,” she thought sadly.

Her eyes filled with tears, and sweat ran down her wrinkled face. She wiped her face with the end of her faded sari, looked up to the sky, and whispered,

“So be it, if that is your will.”

But she did not give up. She took a deep breath and kept walking, still calling,

“Fruits! Berries! Sweet fruits!”

Just then, she reached near the big gate of Nanda’s house — the house where little Krishna lived.

Suddenly, a sweet, musical voice called out,
“Fruit-seller! Do you have berries? Are they sweet or sour?”

Kolibali turned around, and her tired eyes lit up with joy.

There, standing at the gate, was a most beautiful little boy. His face was shining like the moon, his eyes were big and bright, and on his curly hair was a peacock feather. His smile was so sweet that Kolibali forgot all her troubles.

“Yes, yes, I have berries!” she said quickly. “Sweet berries, very sweet!”

Krishna ran inside the house and scooped up as many grains of paddy as his little hands could hold. But he was so small that most of the grains spilled from his tiny fingers as he ran back.

When he reached Kolibali, only a few grains were left in his hands.

He looked up at her with his innocent eyes and said, “Here, take this. Now give me your fruits.”

Kolibali’s heart melted. How could she refuse? She filled Krishna’s little hands with as many fruits as he could hold — wood apples, mangoes, bananas, everything — until her basket was empty.

She knew the grains in his hand were not enough to pay for all the fruits, but somehow it didn’t matter. The joy of seeing Krishna’s smiling face was more valuable than gold.

Krishna laughed happily and ran inside with his fruits. Kolibali carefully placed the few grains he had given her into her basket, covered it with a cloth, balanced it on her head, and walked home.

When she reached her hut, she put the basket down and wiped her sweat. Thinking of Krishna’s sweet face, she smiled.

“So what if I did not get the right price for my fruits?” she thought. “Today, I saw that divine boy, and that is enough for me.”

But then she felt curious. She lifted the cloth covering her basket to look at the grains once more — and her eyes grew wide with surprise!

Her basket was no longer filled with just a few grains. It was overflowing with shining gold coins, sparkling jewels, and precious gems!

Kolibali fell to her knees, tears streaming from her eyes. “O Krishna!” she cried softly. “You are truly the Lord of the world. You have blessed me!”

From that day on, Kolibali never had to worry about food, clothes, or shelter again.

Krishna and the Butter Complaints

Life in Vrindavan was full of joy — but also full of Krishna’s naughty tricks!

Almost every day, the village women came to Yashoda, Krishna’s mother, to complain about him.

One morning, Sukanti came and said, “O Queen of Braj, your Kanha charms everyone with his smile, but he is always up to some mischief! Someone must have cast an evil eye on him.”

Yashoda smiled as she was churning curd. “An evil eye? No, Sukanti. You all just love him too much. That’s why you keep thinking about him all day!”

Sukanti blushed and left.

Soon after, Dushila came running.
“O Nani,” she said, “your Kanha is a strange child! The other day he asked me for butter. I poured some into his little hands — but they didn’t fill! I gave him more, and more, until I gave him everything I had — two whole pots of butter! And still he stood there, hands outstretched, asking for more! Isn’t that strange?”

Yashoda laughed. “You gave him two pots of butter? Since when did you become so generous?”

Dushila frowned and walked away.

Just then, Shashikala arrived, dragging little Krishna by the arm. Kanha tried to hide behind her, but she pulled him forward.

“Nandarani,” Shashikala said, “I locked my house and went to the Yamuna. When I came back, your Krishna was inside with four or five other boys! He was eating my butter and sharing it with everyone. When I shouted, he jumped down so quickly that the pot-stand broke, the pots crashed, and the butter spilled everywhere. Everyone ran away, but I caught your son and brought him here. Now do you believe we are telling the truth?”

Yashoda looked sternly at Krishna. “Kanha!” she called.

Krishna came forward, his head lowered. His big eyes filled with tears.

Yashoda held his ear gently. “Were you stealing butter again?”

Krishna started crying. “No, Ma! It’s all lies! All lies!”

His tears rolled down his cheeks, and he tried to wipe them with his tiny hands.

At last, Yashoda’s heart melted. She picked him up, wiped his tears, kissed him on the cheek, and said softly,

“These gopis just can’t stop talking about you. They all love you so much — that’s why they complain.”

Krishna sniffed and smiled a little. And the very next day, he was up to more mischief again!

This combined story shows how Krishna’s love and playfulness filled Vrindavan with joy — blessing the poor fruit seller with treasures for her generosity and making the gopis laugh and chase after him with his naughty butter games.

⸻( to be continued)

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