Chapter 1: The Streets of Mathura

The air was filled with music and excitement as the bustling streets of Mathura prepared for a grand festival. Every corner was adorned with vibrant decorations, and the city buzzed with anticipation. The people of Mathura eagerly awaited the arrival of someone special—Krishna.

As Krishna and his brother Balarama strolled through the lively streets, their presence did not go unnoticed. The townsfolk, abandoning their tasks, rushed to catch a glimpse of the brothers, showering them with flowers and cheers. Joy enveloped the city, yet amidst the celebration, an unexpected encounter awaited.

Krishna and Balarama, accompanied by the cowherds from Vrindavan, marveled at the festive sights. As they wandered, they spotted a washerman trudging towards them, burdened with a heavy load of clothes. Krishna, with a playful glint in his eye, stepped forward and addressed the washerman.

"Hey, washerman," Krishna called out with a smile, "could you do us a favor? We need some bright, colorful clothes to wear to the palace. Would you be kind enough to share a few with us?"

The washerman halted, eyeing Krishna with suspicion. "Who are you to stop me in the middle of the road, asking for clothes?" he retorted gruffly. "These clothes are meant for the king. How dare you make such a demand?"

Krishna remained calm, his voice gentle yet firm. "Don't worry," he reassured, "if you give us some clothes, it will be good for you."

The washerman sneered, "You have quite the nerve. You're just cowherds from a village, unfamiliar with such royal attire. Shall I summon the king’s guards to arrest you? Do you wish to see what punishment they might give?"

Despite the washerman's harsh words, Krishna's demeanor remained unchanged. The washerman, unaware of Krishna and Balarama's true identity, continued his tirade, his anger growing. Finally, Krishna, losing his patience, delivered a swift slap to the washerman. The blow was so powerful that it sent the washerman’s head tumbling to the ground.

The onlookers gasped, their eyes wide with shock. The washerman’s companions, terrified by the sudden turn of events, abandoned their bundles of clothes and fled in fear. Krishna and Balarama, unperturbed, selected a few fine garments from the pile, sharing them with their friends.

Once they adorned themselves in the vibrant clothes, Krishna decided to visit his dear friend Sudama. Sudama, overwhelmed with joy, welcomed Krishna into his humble abode, feeling blessed by his presence.

As Krishna departed from Sudama’s home, he encountered Trivakra, a servant from King Kansa's palace. Trivakra, though lovely in appearance, had a body bent in three places, making her walk with difficulty. She carried a bowl of fragrant oils and perfumes, heading towards the palace.

"Greetings, Trivakra," Krishna said warmly, pausing to speak with her.

Trivakra, surprised by Krishna’s kindness, smiled shyly. She had heard of the young hero and was honored to meet him on the bustling streets of Mathura.

And so, the tale of Krishna’s adventures in Mathura continued, weaving through moments of joy, surprise, and unexpected encounters.

As Trivakra continued her journey towards the palace, Krishna observed her with a gentle empathy. He called out to her with a warm smile, "Hello, beautiful! Who are you, and where are you going?"

Trivakra stopped, surprised by his kind words. "My name? I am Trivakra, but everyone calls me Kubja," she replied with a hint of sadness. "I am the favorite maid of the great King Kansa. I am going to the palace to apply perfumes on the king. But everyone makes fun of me. No one calls me beautiful."

Krishna's smile widened. "Well, I just did. You truly are beautiful. What do you have in that bowl?"

"Lord, I make precious perfumes and ointments," she explained, her voice filled with pride. "King Kansa loves them. I apply them on him every day. That's where I'm headed."

"That sounds wonderful," Krishna said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But today, why don’t you apply that ointment on us? It will bring you good fortune."

Trivakra's eyes widened in delight. "This is my greatest luck. Today, no one else will get this ointment but you. Come, Lord, let me apply it on you with my own hands."

Enchanted by Krishna and Balarama's beauty and their gentle demeanor, Trivakra eagerly agreed. She carefully applied the colorful ointment from their navels to the upper parts of their bodies, her hands trembling with excitement.

Krishna, pleased with her service, stood before her. He gently pressed the front part of her feet with his foot. Then, with two fingers, he touched her chin, and as if by magic, helped her stand straight. Trivakra marveled as she found herself transformed, standing as straight and beautiful as any other girl. Her heart overflowed with gratitude and love for Krishna, who had not only changed her appearance but also her spirit.

Overcome with emotion, Trivakra tugged at the edge of Krishna's garment. "Lord, since you have been so kind to me, please be a little more kind. Come to my home with me. I cannot leave you here. Bless my simple life with your touch."

Krishna smiled gently. "Trivakra, I bless you. May your home become a place of peace for family men. May it be a shelter for homeless travelers. I am on an important task now, so I cannot come to your home. But I promise, on my way back, I will surely visit."

And so, with a promise of return, Krishna and Balarama continued their journey towards Kansa's palace. The streets buzzed with whispers of their deeds, and soon they reached the place of Kansa's bow ceremony. There, a magnificent bow, adorned with jewels and looking like a rainbow, lay on an altar, surrounded by vigilant armed guards.

Krishna, undeterred, walked past the guards and approached the bow. With his left hand, he effortlessly lifted it, strung it, and pulled it tight. In a display of divine strength, he snapped the bow in two, the sound echoing through the heavens, the earth, and the underworld.

The noise shook King Kansa, who immediately ordered his guards to attack. But Krishna and Balarama, ever ready, picked up the broken pieces of the bow and fought bravely. More soldiers were sent by Kansa, but they too fell to the brothers' might. Once the dust settled and the place was calm, Krishna and Balarama left, their hearts set on their mission.

The tale of their courage spread quickly, filling the people of Mathura with awe and hope, as the two brothers moved closer to fulfilling their destiny.

Chapter 2: The Arena of Fate

As Krishna and Balarama strolled through the bustling streets of Mathura, the air was filled with anticipation. The people, having witnessed the brothers' bravery, no longer feared King Kamsa. Instead, they revered Krishna and Balarama as divine heroes. Meanwhile, in the palace, Kamsa tossed and turned in his bed, tormented by nightmares. The shadow of death loomed over him, and fear gnawed at his heart.

The next morning, Kamsa, desperate to regain control, announced a grand wrestling event. The arena was meticulously prepared; the ground was sprinkled with water to settle the dust, and vibrant drums and trumpets filled the air with their triumphant sound. Seats were arranged on three sides for all manner of spectators—Brahmins, warriors, villagers, and guests—who slowly filled the stands. King Kamsa, surrounded by his ministers, watched from a high throne built atop a towering wall, ensuring his safety.

One by one, the wrestlers entered the arena. Mighty warriors like Chanura, Mushtika, Kuta, and Shala took their places, ready to showcase their strength. Among the spectators was King Nanda, who had traveled from Vrindavan with his fellow cowherds. They offered gifts to Kamsa, then settled into their seats, eager to see what would unfold.

Krishna and Balarama, having completed their morning rituals, approached the arena. However, their path was blocked by Kamsa's formidable elephant, Kuvalayapida. The elephant stood as a living barrier, its presence a direct challenge to the brothers.

Krishna stepped forward and addressed the mahout with a steady gaze. "Move this elephant, mahout. Let us pass," he said firmly.

The mahout smirked and replied, "This elephant will not move. If you wish to pass, you must prove your strength against it."

Krishna's eyes softened with compassion. "I do not wish to harm a helpless creature. Take it away, mahout."

The mahout's expression hardened as he commanded, "Kubaya, crush them. Go, show your bravery."

With a thunderous roar, the elephant charged at Krishna. The crowd gasped, fear rippling through them like a wave. But Krishna remained calm. As the massive beast bore down on them, Krishna and Balarama launched into action, engaging in a fierce battle. Their strength and skill quickly turned the tide, and soon the mighty Kuvalayapida lay defeated.

Triumphant, Krishna and Balarama lifted the elephant's tusks onto their shoulders, a symbol of their victory. The mahout, realizing his defeat, retreated, leaving the path clear.

As the brothers entered the arena, King Nanda watched from the stands, his heart a mix of pride and worry. He knew that many more challenges awaited his beloved Krishna, but all he could do was watch and hope.

Whispers spread through the arena like wildfire. The crowd buzzed with excitement and awe, their eyes fixed on the two brothers. "That dark-skinned boy is Krishna," they murmured. "Is he the one who defeated demons like Putana, Trinavarta, Bakasura, and Keshi?"

"Yes," others replied, nodding in reverence. "This boy is said to be the savior of the Yadu dynasty. Through him, our people will find prosperity, glory, and fame."

All around, people praised Krishna's virtues, their voices rising in a chorus of admiration and hope. The stage was set, and the destiny of Mathura hung in the balance, with Krishna and Balarama at its heart.

Chapter 3: The Wrestling Challenge

King Kansa's anxiety grew with each passing moment. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and desperation. "Chanura," he commanded his most trusted follower, "you must kill Krishna and Balarama at once."

Chanura, the mighty wrestler, nodded gravely. He approached Krishna and Balarama, his eyes cold and calculating. "Oh, sons of King Nanda," he said with a sly smile, "you are renowned for your bravery and strength. The tales of your courage have reached our king's ears. He has invited you here to demonstrate your skills in a wrestling match."

Krishna looked at Chanura with calm curiosity. "As you say, the king has heard of our wrestling games while tending cows," he replied. "It is true we enjoy such matches. But tell me, Chanura, why does King Kansa wish to see us wrestle?"

"To please the king is to please the kingdom," Chanura declared. "Today, you will wrestle with us, and it will bring great honor to you both."

In the crowd, a worried voice whispered, "Don't go, my child. Don't go." But Krishna and Balarama were determined. "We are subjects of King Kansa," Krishna said confidently. "It is our duty to honor his wishes. What do you say, brother?"

Balarama nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. "Indeed, it is a great honor," he agreed. "Besides, a chance to show our wrestling skills is a blessing."

"But Chanura," Krishna continued thoughtfully, "my brother and I are still young. Shouldn't we wrestle someone our own age and strength?"

Chanura chuckled, shaking his head. "You defeated the mighty elephant Kuvalayapeed, who had the strength of a thousand elephants. You are no ordinary boys. Today, you will face me, Krishna, and Balarama will wrestle Mushtik."

Krishna smiled, accepting the challenge. "Very well," he said. "Let us see what we can do. Come, brother, to the wrestling ground!"

The wrestling arena buzzed with anticipation. Krishna squared off against Chanura, while Balarama faced Mushtik. The battles were fierce, a dance of strength and skill. They spun each other around, threw each other through the air, and grappled with all their might.

The audience was captivated. King Nanda and the people of Vrindavan cheered, their hearts pounding with excitement. The citizens of Mathura divided into two camps, each supporting one side.

"Be careful, Krishna," Chanura taunted. "Today I'll finish you off."

Krishna laughed, dodging a powerful swing. "With the way you look, I might not even be able to stand in front of you," he teased. "But now, watch out. I'll defeat you for sure."

The crowd gasped and cheered as the battle raged on. "Catch me first, then you can defeat me," Krishna challenged, his voice ringing out over the arena.

In the stands, a worried mother clutched her hands together. "Oh God," she prayed silently, "protect them. Protect my Kanai and Balai. Are they really just boys? How can they match the strength of those giants?"

Nandaraj, watching anxiously, murmured to the person beside him, "King Kansa has thrown our boys into the hands of these monsters. What can we do but watch and pray?"

A wise sage, sitting nearby, spoke softly. "Vasudev is here among us," he said. "After years in prison, he knows nothing of his sons' deeds. Seeing them fight these giants must break his heart."

As the fierce battles continued, the fate of Krishna and Balarama, and indeed the destiny of Mathura, hung in the balance.

The cries of the women filled the air, their voices a mournful chorus echoing through Kansa’s arena. "Oh no, what is happening? Oh God, oh Narayan," they prayed desperately. "Please protect my sons, Lord, protect them. This evil Kansa wants to kill them. Please help, Lord, save my children."

In the crowd, women huddled together, tears in their eyes as they watched the young boys facing such brutal opponents. "Look, friend," one whispered to another, "such innocent boys, thrown before those warriors who seem like messengers of death. What injustice is this by the king? Watching this unfair fight feels sinful. Let's leave from here."

"Yes, friend," her companion agreed, wiping her eyes. "We can't accept this injustice. But look, Krishna's face is all sweaty from fighting Chanur, and Balaram too."

Another woman pointed, her voice trembling with empathy. "Look, sister, how powerful the blows are on Mushtik. Oh, Krishna's face is all sweaty. If only I could wipe his face! Balaram, see how his eyes are turning red. Don't they feel any pity? What kind of cruel king is this?"

Nearby, King Ugrasena, Kansa's father, sat as an old man weakened by years of imprisonment. Though he could do nothing to stop the fight, the sight of the battle made him restless. The distress of the audience, the tears of the women, and King Nanda's worried face all weighed heavily on him.

Amidst this tension, Krishna knew it was time to end the fight with Chanur. As Chanur leaped into the air, fists raised for an attack, Krishna moved with the grace of a dancer, catching Chanur’s hands mid-flight. With a mighty effort, he lifted the giant, spinning him around with ease. Chanur's life ebbed away, and Krishna threw his lifeless body to the ground.

Meanwhile, Balarama faced Mushtik with even greater strength. When Mushtik punched him, Balarama retaliated with a slap so powerful that Mushtik trembled and blood flowed from his mouth. Mushtik fell like a broken tree branch, lifeless on the ground.

The arena buzzed with anticipation as more challengers approached. A wrestler named Kuta charged at Balarama, but with a single blow from Balarama's left hand, Kuta was defeated. Then, two more warriors, Sala and Tusala, attacked Krishna. Krishna swiftly kicked Sala on the head, defeating him, and cut Tusala into two pieces. The remaining warriors, filled with fear, fled the arena.

With the arena cleared, Krishna and Balarama called the Gopis to join them, and soon the space was filled with joyful dancing, drums beating in celebration. But amidst the jubilation, King Kansa sat seething.

"Stop all this noise immediately," Kansa ordered the city guard. "Throw these two sons of Vasudeva out of Mathura. Capture the Gopis from Vrindavan along with their wealth. And tie up that fellow Nanda and throw him in jail."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guard replied, but Kansa continued, his voice dripping with venom. "Also, listen, Vasudeva is a very cunning and wicked man. Kill him as soon as possible."

"But, Your Majesty," the guard hesitated. "The old King Ugrasena is already restless after watching the fight. If he hears about Vasudeva's death, it will be impossible to keep him calm."

"Listen, city guard," Kansa snapped, his patience worn thin. "Even though he is my father, he supports the enemy. So there's no need to keep him alive. First, kill Vasudeva. Then, along with his followers..."

Krishna, hearing these words, felt a storm of anger rise within him. His voice was a thunderclap in the arena. "Kamsa, I have tolerated your wrongdoings long enough, but you are crossing your limits. I’m warning you. Don’t cross the line."

Fear and fury mixed in Krishna’s heart. Was he afraid for King Nanda's imprisonment or for Vasudeva's life? A decision loomed before him, a choice between which father to save. "Take back your orders, Your Majesty," he urged. "There is no bravery in killing innocent people."

But Kansa was unyielding. "City guard, go quickly. Make sure my orders are followed exactly."

The moment Kansa refused to relent, something snapped within Krishna. His anger boiled over, and he roared with an intensity that shook the arena. With a swift leap, he bounded onto the high wall, his eyes burning with determination.

Chapter 4: The Fall of Kansa

The crowd held its breath as Krishna, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury, confronted Kansa. The king, rather than cowering, stood tall and defiant. "Did Kansa get scared now, O wise one?" Parikshit, the young king, asked curiously, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Sukhdev, the sage, shook his head slowly. "No, the tested Kansa was not so weak-hearted. Even with death standing right in front of him, he picked up his shield and sword to fight. He was very skilled in sword fighting."

Kansa sneered, his voice echoing through the arena. "Fool, you want to fight me? I am King Kansa, the greatest warrior on this earth. The greatest warrior."

Krishna met his gaze, unflinching. "What kind of hero are you?" he challenged. "You kept your innocent, helpless sister and her husband locked up in prison for years. You didn't even spare your own father because of your hunger for power. You sent demons to Vrindavan to harm a child. You were cruel to your own people. Yet, you call yourself brave and boast about it."

Kansa's grip tightened around his sword. "Krishna, do you know who you are talking to? First, try to withstand my sword's strike."

In the face of Lord Krishna's fierce anger, all of Kansa's defenses crumbled like dry leaves. Just like a cow ignores a snake's tricks and snatches it up, Lord Krishna caught Kansa. As soon as Kansa's crown fell, Krishna grabbed his hair, dragged him to the wall, and threw him down hard. Then Krishna jumped on him. Under the weight of the Lord of the Universe, Kansa was crushed and soon died, unable to breathe.

"Oh, what a terrible end for a sinner," Parikshit murmured, his voice filled with awe. "He had to leave his golden kingdom behind."

Sukhdev nodded solemnly. "The crowd accepted Kansa's death gladly. Everyone felt relieved at the end of such a cruel and arrogant king. They cheered Krishna's name over and over."

"Kansa had more brothers, didn't he, Acharyadev?" Parikshit inquired.

"Yes, King," Sukhdev replied. "Kansa had eight more brothers. They were furious at their brother's death and tried to attack Krishna. But Balarama picked up a club and defeated them all by himself."

Parikshit leaned forward, intrigued. "Tell me, wise sage, did Kansa recognize Krishna before he died?"

"Yes, King, he did," Sukhdev said, a hint of mystery in his voice.

"How did he recognize him, Acharyadev?" Parikshit pressed on.

"Kansa had no virtue. Can a sinner like him have such a right? How is that possible?"

Sukhdev explained patiently, "Listen, King. The Lord has said that he appears to every being in the way they worship him. Kansa spent his whole life thinking about Lord Krishna. Even as an enemy, his thoughts and actions were filled with Krishna. So, before his death, he saw the divine form of the Lord."

"I understand, Acharyadev. The truth of God's play is indeed very strange," Parikshit reflected. "Sage, after Kansa died, there must have been sorrow in the palace. Did Kansa's queens turn to Krishna?"

"Yes, Parikshit," Sukhdev answered. "They came and wept bitterly. Krishna comforted and assured them. Then he performed the last rites for the dead and freed King Ugrasena and his followers from captivity."

"What did Vasudeva and Devaki do when they finally got to see their son after so many years?" Parikshit asked, his curiosity piqued.

Sukhdev smiled gently. "People’s hearts can be quite strange, King. When Krishna freed Devaki and Vasudeva and bowed down to touch their feet in respect, they, as parents, couldn't bring themselves to hug their child. They kept remembering his divine nature, which filled them with awe and devotion. So, Vasudeva and Devaki stood with folded hands in front of Krishna." Sukhdev chuckled softly. "They began to bow to their own son. Krishna tried his best to awaken their parental love."

Meanwhile, the Yadavas requested Krishna to sit on the empty throne of Mathura. But Krishna wasn’t interested. Parikshit leaned forward eagerly. "Who would sit on the throne, and what role would Krishna play?"

Sukhdev raised a finger, signaling patience. "We will return to this in the next episode."

And so, the tale of Krishna unfolded, mesmerizing all who listened. The story, drawn from the Srimad Bhagavatam and the Garg Samhita, written by the sage Vyasa, continued to captivate the hearts of those gathered around the wise Sukhdev.

The stage was set for the next chapter of divine play, leaving the audience hanging in anticipation, eager for more.

Chapter 5: The Storytellers

As the gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, the gathered listeners felt the magic of the tale envelop them. The flickering lamps cast a warm glow, making the evening feel both timeless and enchanting.

The story they were immersed in was no ordinary one. It was a beautiful adaptation brought to life by the talented Mahua Bandyopadhyay and Sujata Bhattacharya. Each word and every scene had been carefully crafted to capture the essence of ancient tales, making them accessible and thrilling for everyone present.

The atmosphere was further enhanced by the meticulous work of Satyajit Sen, who had expertly recorded the sounds and ambiance. His efforts ensured that each rustle of the wind and each whisper of the characters felt real and vivid. Sabyasachi Mukherjee had woven these sounds together, designing and mixing them into a symphony that resonated with the heartbeats of the audience, making them feel as though they were part of the story.

At the helm of this captivating performance was Shaoli Majumdar, whose direction brought clarity and depth to the unfolding drama. Her vision was complemented by the creative direction of Indrani Chakraborty, whose insights ensured that every detail, from the costumes to the expressions, was perfect.

This mesmerizing production was brought to life by Pastel Entertainment, whose dedication to storytelling was evident in every aspect of the performance. It was shared with the world by Times of Puran, available for all to experience on the Mirchi Bangla YouTube channel and the Gaana app.

As the night deepened, the audience remained spellbound, knowing that they were part of something special—a timeless journey through the stories of the past, brought to life by the passion and skill of those who cherished these ancient tales.

And so, the tale of Krishna continued to unfold, promising more adventures and lessons in the chapters yet to come.