Krishna – Krishna! The one who attracts like a magnet – attractive! The one who mesmerizes everyone – charming Krishna! Dhakali gave an affectionate push to the cradle with her back.
Gokul was resonating with the sounds of various musical instruments. On every street of Gokul, and in every yard, euphoric gopas and gopis got engaged in various games. Caught up in the joy of the moment they forgot themselves.
People of all castes and creeds feasted at our house that day. My father was content that he was graced with a firstborn son as an answer to his prayers of all these years.
My mother was content to have me as her son! Rohinimata felt blessed that her son Balarama got a brother and a playmate!
More than six hours had passed by. An urgent council was held in the veranda of our home. For this particular purpose, yesterday itself Gargamuni had arrived from Mathura. No one knew who had sent him. As a matter of fact, he was the royal priest of the Yadavas of the Shoorsena kingdom in Mathura, but he was intentionally present for the naming ceremony of the son of Nanda gopa from the Abhirbhanu dynasty. Last night in the seclusion of the secret chamber he had discussed something with father for quite some time.
My eight middle-aged kakas, their wives and children, and Chitrasena aajoba revered by all gopas also attended this council. Gargamuni’s ascetic, serene eyes glanced at Nandababa, who was sitting on his right with a few selected gopas, and the priest of Gokul, Abhirananda.
Gargamuni had a radiant and calm face! He wore Rudraksha armlets around his upper arms streaked with holy ash and had matted hair! The ingenious architect of the Yadavas! The prophetic astrologer of the royal Yadav family! He began speaking with his eyes closed, as if he had reached beyond his subconscious mind; and was clearly visualizing something. His profound words poured deep into the ears of the eager gopas as if they were coming from an unknown territory, “Oh goparaja Chitrasena and Nandaraja, please listen. All gopas, Listen carefully to the forecast of your dear, new-born son according to the Holy Scriptures.”
He will live up to his name ‘Krishna’. With his physical beauty and enchanting mind he will fascinate and mesmerize one and all. He will found an unprecedented, novel way of life full of love called ‘Premayoga’. All of us spend our lives trying to understand the purpose of our existence, and observe religious practices and penance for the same. But this child is already aware of his identity, since his birth. Just as clearly as you can see your multi-coloured cows daily, he can perceive the Absolute Truth – from every angle. Just as you can recognize your cows in a herd of multi-coloured cows even from a distance, he can easily recognize every person that comes in front of him, inside out, with an open mind.
He will shower his unconditional, pure affection on all of you in such abundance that you will never be able to forget him. He will silently preach the divinity of Love. But...but he won’t stay in Gokul for a long time. You won’t experience his endearing, affectionate company for long.
Gargamuni fell silent for a moment. His eyes were still closed. He took a deep breath. His wonderstruck disciple recording the remarkable forecast on a leaf kept gazing at him. All assembled gopas gasped in astonishment.
Gargamuni was still meditative. He had reached far beyond in the terrain of the unknown. His clear words echoed again leaving even the stone walls of the spacious assembly hall in an excited state.
“He will act as the guardian of Nyaya - Justice and Dharma - Duty throughout his life. He will offer his unconditional support to a banished valiant royal family which had to suffer extreme injustice despite being righteous. To make sure they get the justice they deserve he will initiate a humongous, unprecedented war that will rock the world. Like precious gems emerging after a laborious process of production many principles of life will re-emerge from this war, to be protected and cherished by mankind. The invaluable guidance given by him will prove exemplary to the entire human race. It will be held in the highest esteem for ages. It will prove to be eternal.
Time and again, he will reincarnate on this earth. He will uproot many unscrupulous kings and their kingdoms – destroying them completely. He will release the life force of Aaryavarta and let it flow unhindered for years to come. Yet, he himself will never claim any authority over any kingdom. His conduct will prove inspirational and will guide the future generations of humanity for ages to come. He will have profound understanding of the essence of femininity and exhibit the same in his own conduct. He will honour every woman in his life as an integral part of Nature.
He will be instrumental in the migration and well-planned rehabilitation of a powerful royal family on the west coast. After witnessing the same royal family forsaking the path of truth and becoming insolent and rude, he himself will destroy them with absolute detachment. The fourteen skills which are often unattainable for a common man will dance at his fingertips. An artist struggles tenaciously throughout his life to master a single art out of the sixty-four art forms, but he will be the sovereign master of all of them. The mellifluous music of Samaveda will always reflect in his personality. In fact, he himself will be music incarnate. He will be recognized by the names of his gurus and his mothers for ages to come. In fact, by being his educators and caretakers both his gurus and mothers will attain immortality and experience a sense of fulfilment. He will spectacularly exhibit a perfect manifestation of manly charm surpassing all criteria of physical beauty. Befitting his charm will be his celestial speech as melodious and irradiant as the sound of his flute. Occasionally, it will be as intense and unendurable as lightning bursting through the skies. At an appropriate time he will also erect an unparalleled golden city on the shores of the western ocean which will be worthy of his ethereal beauty. There he will spend an ideal family life, full of love and affection with his eight virtuous wives, children and grandchildren which will prove inspirational to future generations!
Dear gopas, don’t be blinded by his miraculous acts and never make a mistake to judge his character by that. That he lives physically amongst you, is in itself a miracle of miracles! He will spend most of his life near water bodies. He is also the Jalapurusha – the Lord of Water which is one of the five essential elements of the universe.
Just as water never stagnates in one place and courses further to create and develop life, this ‘Jalapurusha’ will be a world traveller throughout his life. He will be a ‘Chakravarti’- the ideal universal ruler. A glorious epoch-maker!
He is not only the majestic ‘Jalapurusha’ who knows the Truth, but also a Yogi – a proficient practitioner of Yoga. The Greatest Yogi of all!”
While concluding his forecast of the exceptional horoscope Gargamuni looked like he had transcended his own body and reached the realm beyond. There was a resplendent glow on his face. Everyone was gazing at him. The ambrosial final words describing that incredible horoscope made the assembled gopas feel blessed.
“Oh dear gopas, through the power of vigorous meditation, we sages try to understand ‘Ishwar’, the god, but so far none of us has been able to explain what ‘Ishwar’ is; and I doubt anyone ever will be able to do it in future. Don’t you think that Ishwar, God, Almighty, and Incarnation are all false ideas that beguile the mind and make it go astray? Even I can’t tell for sure if He exists at all. But this virtuous son of yours is undeniably the greatest Yogi of all – a complete ‘Yogayogeshwara’, a superhuman in the true sense of the word. He is the great ‘Purnapurusha’ – the ‘Perfect Man’. Never forget that there is no one else like him at all. He is unmatched and incomparable. You should be rest assured and undoubtedly offer all your ideas of divinity at his feet. Just as ‘Premayoga’ or Love is innate in his nature, so is renunciation and detachment. He will never get attached to his own karmas; he will be free from the fruits of his actions; and hence he will never get entangled in the consequences of his actions. Like a lotus he will remain pure, untainted, and free from the sinful desires of the human mind! That is precisely why you will find him a divine conjurer.
He will at
tain the highest epithet of ‘Vaasudeva – The Supreme Being’. He will teach millions in an easy and simple manner what life is; how to live it; and demonstrate the same in his daily life.
He took the first breath of his life in the confines of Nanda’s house, but this ‘Vaasudeva’ will breathe his last of his own accord, under the open sky, in a desolate thick forest, in the shadow of an Ashwattha tree, in a very banal manner and in complete solitude. With this I conclude the forecast. May all be well!” Gargamuni fell silent as if he was watching something splendid, glorious, larger than life right in front of his eyes. He was completely lost in himself. Bringing both his palms together he touched them to his forehead and whispered gently - ‘Krishnarpanamastu!’ - I submit to you Oh, Lord Krishna!
Thoroughly content, the spellbound gopas left our house chanting the name ‘Kisna, Krishna’. But I – ‘Krishna Kanhaiya’ of Thorali – was fast asleep in the cradle.
Soon, the innocent days of crawling, running, and messing around were over. The days of getting spanked by the elders for our pranks were also past us. Dada and I had grown up a bit, about eight-ten years old. And that special day in my life dawned – the day of my initiation as a ‘gopa’!
Today dada and I had to graze our cattle in the lush pastures on the outskirts of Gokul, near the banks of Yamuna. Nandababa had chosen the Muhurta for the initiation ceremony. Every year, to pay the levy he would make one trip to Mathura, the royal capital of the Shursena kingdom of the Yadavas located on the other side of Yamuna. This year from the traders’ market of Mathura he had bought fine silk dhotis for both of us. Such fluorescent colours they had! Abright yellow for me and a deep blue for Balaramadada. Such an accurate selection by father – the yellow colour suited my complexion and the pure blue colour enhanced the crimson fairness of dada’s skin. How was my complexion? One day I visited my dear friend Varuthapa’s father’s smithy. There, for the first time I got to see a shade coming pretty close to my complexion.
That day Varuthapa’s father was profusely sweating while working on the bellows. Using his pincers, he swiftly pulled a hot blazing iron-rod from the pile of the glowing, hot embers in the bellows, put it on the anvil and in quick succession struck blows on it with the sledgehammer. Sparks flew all over. Instantly both ends of the iron-rod welded together perfectly. He splashed some water from a wooden pot nearby on that red-hot iron-rod. With a low whirring sound, a reddish, bluish shade like the clear sky with a golden border, congealed on the edge of the iron-rod. I kept gazing at it fixedly. Indeed, my complexion was exactly like this! Red like a Jamun about to ripen on the tree!
Despite all this description of my complexionThorali and Dhakali would inadvertently call me Shyam, meaning absolutely dark! To be exact my colour was dusky dark. Yes, indeed I was dusky in complexion. Like an evening of Shravana, drenched in sentiments! Let me assure you that I was and still am indeed proud of my dusky complexion! I loved my name – Shyam – from the bottom of my heart. It was a different story for dada. He was fair and everybody called him so. Dhakali would lovingly call him ‘Sankarshana’; occasionally shortening it to ‘Sanku’. So, at times I also called him ‘Sankudada’.
So, this was the day of our initiation ceremony. Both Balaramadada and I got ready, dressed up in the special gopa attire. Grandfather Chitrasena had tied brick red-coloured, twisted turbans around our heads. The soft, shiny golden-bordered blue and yellow dhotis that father had recently bought for us were fastened neatly around our waists. To handle the upcoming chores in the forest, for our convenience, we had pulled the front pleats of our dhotis from between our legs and tightly tucked them in the back. Our shoulders were covered with woollen blankets made from the soft wool of the local sheep.
We carried our refreshments bundled in a cloth in the folds of our blankets. It contained seven-eight rotis with mouth-watering garlic chutney and thick curds in an earthen pot capped at its mouth with a Palash leaf tied with a small piece of cloth. There were also some freshly plucked spring onions.
In the early morning, today, I had also kept a small sharp sickle in the folds of my blanket.
The rituals of our initiation ceremony began. Our family priest Abhirananda began intoning melodious Sanskrit verses. Dada and I sat on square wooden stools carved with tracery designs. Colourful decorative rangoli designs had been drawn around them. This room in our house was designated as the shrine for the family deities. At the end of the ceremony our family priest Abhirananda sprinkled sacred water from the golden vessels on us. Chitrasena aajoba, Nandababa and both our mothers were standing in front of us. Today this room was packed with all our kakas and kakus. Even Ekananga who was about two years old, was toddling around nearby. Once all the rituals were over, first Thorali and then Dhakali blessed us with Aukshan by oil lamps. They fed us some delicious sweets made from cow’s milk, sprinkled with saffron and dry ginger. After them Nandababa came forward. Gathering up the blanket on his shoulders, he also blessed us in the same way. He gently removed the octagonal silver medal – the emblem of the Abhirbhanu dynasty hanging on his chest and held it in his palms. He touched it to his forehead and mumbled something to himself. The next moment he put the medal around my neck, pulled me closer with deep affection and said to me, “Krishna, now you have formally become a gopa, my true heir! So far, I have looked after all young and old gopas to the best of my ability. From today onwards it is the duty of you and your elder brother to carry forward my legacy. Not only should you take care of all gopas but also more particularly guard the cows and the cattle of Gokul.
I looked at Balaramadada, sitting next to me. He was smiling while caressing a similar medal that grandfather had put around his neck earlier. In an instant, we spoke a thousand words through that glance we exchanged.
We got up from our seats and paid obeisance to the family deity, Goddess ‘Ida’. Thereafter, we also sought the blessings
of Chitrasena aajoba, Nandababa, both mothers and the family priest, Abhirananda. They all hugged us with affection. We touched the feet of all kakas and their wives too. Then we got ready to leave the family deity room for the forest of Gokul.
We picked up our staves from a corner of the veranda. They were a foot taller than us, carved with tracery and decorated with tiny jingling bells. They were going to protect us in various ways. We were going to use them to our advantage every now and then.
Both mothers were already present at the eastern entrance of our house. They put blobs of thick curd on our palms. I put it in my mouth and closed my eyes for a moment to savour its taste. Even today I feel the lingering sweetness of that curd on my tongue. We had to catch up with our friends standing outside. So, I started to turn and stopped. Two tiny arms had embraced my feet. It was young Ekananga who called me ‘Kutnadada’. My beloved sister Eka. During the bustle of the ceremony, nobody paid attention to her but she had not forgotten me. She gave me such a sweet, innocent smile that I could not resist picking her up instantly. I kissed her on her chubby cheeks; ruffled her thick hair and passed her on to dada.
In front of our house about fifteen-twenty of our coeval friends had gathered in the courtyard. Seeing us they all got excited and made a din shouting our names, “Here comes our Kisna - Kanhoba! Krishna- Kanhaiya! Balaramadada - Balidada!”
First, we embraced each one of them tightly, then immediately our flock turned towards the corrals. We unleashed the cows from their tethers. Within a few moments, a huge herd of zealous colourful cows was on its way, brushing against each other, clattering their horns and bellowing freely to their hearts’ content. They exited from the eastern gates of Gokul. Holding the blankets on our shoulders and raising our jingling staves we drove the herd towards the rich meadows on the banks of Yamuna. In hundreds, the cows then dispersed on the meadows. The bells tied around their necks made a sweet, rhythmic tinkling sound. Slowly, birds like Salunki, Kotwala, Partin, Rankirave, Ranakak, and Bochurade started landing on their backs. The lush green grass swayed gently on the cool breeze coming from Yamuna
. Grasshoppers were hopping around in the verdure. Herds of grazing cows were wagging their tails around to shoo away the insects and birds trying to settle on their backs. They began grazing to the melodious rhythm of the bells jingling around their necks. Balaramadada and I were now free to roam around and play various games with our friends.
The vast expanse of Yamuna’s shining, blue water was now visible to us. Leaving behind the cows, all my friends and even Balaramadada, I impulsively ran towards Yamuna. As if something was pulling me towards her unknowingly. For some reason, ever since the first time I had laid my eyes on the waters of Yamuna I had felt a mysterious turmoil in my heart. A flurry of questions would arise in my mind –Madhupuri - Mathura– the capital city of the Shursena kingdom of the Yadavas! What kind of a place was that faraway city? Who must be the king of that city? Father, grandfather and others have such lengthy discussions about that city! I hear so many names – Maharaja Ugrasena, Maharani Padmawati, general Satyaki, Anadhrishti, Kanka – the minister, Akrura, charioteer Daruka, royal counsellor Vipruthu, Vasudeva in captivity, and his helpless wife Devaki. Devi Devaki! For no apparent reason, just hearing all that made my young heart throb in unknown, unbearable pain. The heartless, diabolical, vicious son of Maharaja Ugrasena, Kansa who imprisoned his own father to confiscate the kingdom – what kind of a person would he be? What kind of people would be the Yadavas of Mathura?
The rippling waves of Yamuna constantly kept coming and cooling the shores while merging silently in the gritty ocean waters. Prananandakaka, a pundit of the Shastras, was indeed right when he said that Jalamata Yamuna was unrestrained, just like an ocean! Glancing from left to right I feasted my eyes on her and preserved her vivacious, rushing flow in my mind. Unwittingly my palms joined in prayer and I touched them to my forehead to pay respects to her. I felt more at peace now!
Srikrishna- the Lord of the Universe Page 3