The Slaying of Putana

A thoughtful question rose in King Parikshit’s mind. Folding his hands, he said, “O sage, tell me one thing clearly. What exactly was the relation between Nanda and Vasudeva? Were they as close as two brothers?”

Shukadeva Goswami replied, “They wished well for each other. But is there any special reason for asking this, O King?”

Parikshit answered, “Yes, Acharyadev. Nanda left Mathura very quickly after hearing Vasudeva’s words. Such behavior is possible only when there is deep respect.”

Shukadeva smiled gently. “You are right, King. Nanda truly respected Vasudeva. Vasudeva was calm in nature and full of wisdom. Because of this, his foresight was very sharp. He could understand beforehand what might happen and when. How can one not accept such a man?”

Parikshit said softly, “I understand now, O sage. Vasudeva was very much like a wise rishi.”

“You are right again, King,” said Shukadeva. “He was truly like a rishi. He had no attraction to a kingdom or a throne, and he never wanted to sit on the throne. After the death of his father Surasena, Ugrasena sat on the throne of Mathura. The people wanted Vasudeva to be king even more than Samudra Vijaya, the first son of Surasena. But Vasudeva loved farming more than the throne. So he did not become king. Though he was the son of a king, he remained close to the soil. He had no greed. It is to such a man that God would come and be born.”

Parikshit bowed his head. “Now I understand, O sage. Vasudeva was worthy to be the father of the Lord. Nanda too was just like him—simple, gentle, and without greed. That is why the Lord first called him father. Nanda left Mathura. Then what happened? What happened after that, Lord? Did some danger truly come to Gokul then?”

Shukadeva’s face grew grave. “As soon as Kansa learned that Maharaj Nanda was not in Gokul, his plotting began. He called Putana.”

Parikshit asked at once, “Who was Putana, O sage?”

“Putana,” said Shukadeva, “was actually a demoness. She was Kansa’s most trusted helper. The tasks that spies could not do, Kansa gave those to Putana.”

“I see,” said the king, “but why did Kansa trust Putana so much, Acharyadev?”

“Because Putana knew magic, King. She knew how to change her form. It is not easy for any spy to know such a skill. So whenever there was some secret work, Kansa would send for Putana. This time too, he did the same.”

In a hidden room away from the royal court, Putana came before Kansa and bowed.

“My greetings, Maharaj. You called for me.”

“Come, Putana, come,” Kansa said. “I need you for something special. You must do a secret task.”

Putana replied, “I know that, Maharaj. Otherwise why would you call me from the royal palace to such a hidden room? Tell me what I must do, O King.”

Kansa leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “You go to Gokul, Putana. Search for newborn babies. Catch each one and kill them. Be careful. None must be left alive.”

Putana answered without fear, “You may rest easy, Maharaj. No one escapes my hands. No one will escape this time either.”

Kansa warned her, “But this work must remain very secret. Not even a crow should come to know of it. Otherwise everyone will become alert, Putana. You must act in such a way that no one can suspect you.”

“As you command, Maharaj,” said Putana. “It will be so. No one will suspect me, and no one will be able to catch me.”

Putana came to Gokul through the sky.

She did not appear as a demoness. She came dressed as a very beautiful young woman. She wore costly clothes. Earrings hung from her ears. Her braid was tied with ornaments. The fragrance of sandalwood flowed from her body. In the sunlight, her beauty shone brightly. In one hand she held a lotus, and on her face there was a sweet smile.

When she came down into Braj, the women there stared at her in amazement.

“Look how beautiful she is,” one said. “I have never seen such a lovely girl before.”

“You are right,” another replied. “It feels as if Mother Lakshmi herself has come down.”

Then one of the women stepped forward and asked, “Who are you, dear? Where do you live? I have never seen you before in this Gokul.”

Putana smiled sweetly. “Me? Who else am I? I am a woman just like you. I make butter, I make curd, and I love little children with all my heart. I am very fond of them. Your Gokul has many little children, does it not? Please take me to them.”

A Braj woman laughed and said, “But what if our children start crying when they see you?”

“So what if they cry?” Putana replied playfully. “Just take me once and see. You will find that your children will not even know you anymore. They will only look for me everywhere.”

The women were simple-hearted and without suspicion. One of them said, “Is that so? Very well, very well. Go then. There is no trouble from thieves or robbers in this Gokul. Everyone lives without fear here. No one keeps the doors of their homes shut. Go on. Search around and see. Go and meet your little friends.”

When the women of Braj returned to their work, Putana the enchantress began peeping into one house after another.

Somewhere a mother had left her child in a cradle and gone to milk the cows. Somewhere another Braj woman had put her baby to sleep and sat down to prepare curd. The women of Braj had spoken the truth. No house in Gokul had its door shut. There was no fear there.

Putana saw that this was her chance.

Parikshit shuddered and asked, “But how did Putana kill them, Acharyadev? Did they not scream? Did no one hear them?”

Shukadeva replied, “Putana did not strike them. She chose a strange way to kill the babies. She had smeared deadly poison on her breasts. She would lift the babies in her arms, take them to some lonely place, and feed them her milk. As soon as they drank that milk, they turned blue from the poison and died. They got no chance to cry. It all happened so silently that the mothers, busy with housework, did not know anything. In the deep forest of Gokul, only the bodies of many babies lay scattered.”

Parikshit said in pain, “Acharyadev, did the demoness Putana find Krishna?”

“Putana did not know about Krishna in particular,” Shukadeva answered. “She was searching for newborn babies and killing them. But as soon as she stepped into Gokul, she heard that the prince had been born in the house of Nanda, the king of Braj. Putana heard much about Nanda’s son. The whole land of Braj was charmed by him. Men and women alike were full of his praise. Putana was amazed as she kept hearing of that child’s beauty and virtues. Everyone in Gokul loved him and thought of him as their own child. Putana had never before heard of such a child. Hearing such praise of Nanda’s son made her heart leap with joy. She felt that perhaps, without knowing it, she had come to the right place. Perhaps King Kansa was searching for this very child.”

Following the roads of Braj, Putana walked toward the house of King Nanda.

“It seems I have come to the right place,” she thought. “Hmm. Yes, if I can kill this boy, my work will be done. How lucky that the people here are so simple. Otherwise, would it be so easy to enter someone’s house? Here, here, this door too is open. Let me see.”

Seeing Putana’s beauty and rich dress, no one in Braj thought of stopping her. So she entered Nanda’s house without any trouble. Looking this way and that, Putana could not see Yashoda anywhere.

Parikshit leaned forward and asked, “How did Putana find baby Krishna, O sage?”

Shukadeva said, “Inside the house, Putana heard the voice of a baby coming from a cradle. Surely the mother had left her son to play and was busy with work. This was her chance. Hearing the baby’s voice, Putana moved toward the cradle.”

There lay that dark little child of enchanting beauty.

Seeing his lovely form, Putana stood still for a few moments. She had never seen such a child before.

But when baby Narayan saw Putana, he closed his eyes while still lying in the cradle.

Parikshit said eagerly, “Why? Why did Krishna close his eyes, Acharyadev? Ah, I understand. Shri Hari was acting as if he was afraid on seeing Putana.”

Shukadeva replied humbly, “I do not have the power to explain the deeds of God, King. Yes, when the Lord of divine play performs his play, then he may show fear like a human being. But that was not the only reason, King. No sin can remain before the gaze of God. But if Putana had turned to ashes that very moment, how would his play have taken place? So perhaps Shri Hari turned away his own gaze.”

Parikshit whispered, “Then? What happened then, O Brahmarshi?”

Putana lifted baby Krishna to her breast. No one was there. Thinking it was not right to waste time, she at once began feeding the child from her poison-smeared breast.

Then a wonder took place.

In great anger, Krishna held the demoness’s breast tightly with both hands. Then he began to suck with great force. As his force increased, Putana’s own poison began to spread more and more through her own body. She screamed in a terrible voice.

Parikshit asked, “But how did her own poison go into her own body, Acharyadev?”

Shukadeva answered, “Through the fierce anger of God. He began to draw the life out of Putana’s body. And he himself began to drain her body’s very essence. Between these two pulls, Putana’s own poison spread through her own body. Her beautiful false form fell away. She tried with all her strength to push baby Krishna away from her. She could not. Screaming, she ran out of the house with him still against her breast.”

Hearing her scream, Yashoda and Rohini came running. The gopis also rushed there from all around. Seeing Putana’s horrible true form, they stood frozen in fear.

Parikshit asked in wonder, “How did Putana die, Acharyadev?”

“With that terrible form,” said Shukadeva, “Putana fell upon the ground, covering nearly six krosh of land. That whole place was smashed to pieces. All the trees broke and fell. Even birds and animals died from her dreadful scream. The sky of Gokul turned dark. And in the middle of all this horror, little Krishna still lay upon Putana’s chest. He did not move even once.”

The gopis heard with wonder that the horrible demoness was crying out in a sharp voice, “O no, no, let me go. Let me go.”

Crying out again and again, the demoness Putana gave up her life.

Only then did Queen Yashoda come back to her senses. Like a madwoman she ran toward little Krishna.

“Kanai, Kanai, Kanai!”

Rohini tried to calm her. “Yashoda, be calm. There is Kanai. Look, nothing has happened to Kanai. Be calm, Yashoda.”

“How can I be calm, sister?” Yashoda cried. “That demoness has ruined my child, ruined him.”

“No, Yashoda,” Rohini said gently. “Nothing will happen to Kanai. Look, Kanai is still playing so happily. Come, Yashoda, let us take Kanai in our arms and go back inside. The demoness is dead. There is nothing more to fear.”

But in the homes of Gokul, terror had already spread.

When the truth about the demoness Putana became known, cries of sorrow rose from house to house. Beating their breasts and wailing, the mothers of Gokul ran to their homes.

“My son, my son, my son, where has he gone?”

“Has any of you seen my son? Where is my Subal? My Subal? Why can I not find Subal? Subal!”

Another woman cried out from the forest edge, “Oh, oh, come and look. There in the forest my son, my son is lying dead. That demoness... that is my... my living heart is gone because of the demoness’s poison. Oh, what will I live with now?”

Never before had there been such weeping in the homes of Gokul.

One woman cried, “By whose curse did this happen, sister? Which god has become angry with us?”

Another answered through tears, “I do not know, sister. Because of whose sin such a thing happened, I cannot understand at all.”

A third said, “When Maharaj Nanda returns, surely he will do something?”

Another whispered in fear, “No, sister, I am so afraid for Kanai. That terrible poison must have gone into his stomach too. What will happen, sister? My throat is drying up with fear.”

Rohini kept trying to console Yashoda. “Nothing has happened to Kanai. Yashoda, he is well. He is healthy. Look, Kanai is playing happily by himself. Do not worry, sister. Come, come inside.”

King Parikshit said thoughtfully, “So many children of Braj died from Putana’s deadly form, yet nothing happened to baby Krishna. Tell me, did this event not surprise Mother Yashoda? Could she not guess anything about the divine nature of her son?”

Shukadeva replied, “No, King. She could not. First there was the power of Yogamaya, and above that, the mind of a mother. A mother’s heart is always worried for her child. That is the sweetness of Gokul. It is filled with love, affection, and tenderness. That is why the charm of Hari’s stories is so great, King. Gokul is the very seat of motherly love. Even God himself remains bound there by affection. Even after seeing Krishna’s many wondrous deeds, a mother’s heart cannot accept him as God.”

Parikshit said with deep feeling, “The stories of Braj are truly sweet. The more I hear, the calmer my mind becomes, O sage. Now I can understand what sweetness is. Tell me, after King Nanda returned, could he uncover the secret of Putana? Did he come to know of Kansa’s plot?”

Shukadeva said, “After hearing Vasudeva’s words, Maharaj Nanda had already feared some misfortune. When he returned to Braj with the cowherds of Gokul, he saw this heartbreaking sight.”

His companions spoke in great wonder.

“Did not Vasudeva warn us? Yes, yes. It seems Vasudeva is becoming more and more like a rishi.”

Another said, “How did Vasudeva know, Maharaj? How did he guess this disaster?”

A third said, “Yes indeed. Vasudeva has become like a rishi. He is a great soul with yogic power. His words always come true.”

Others looked at the huge dead body and asked in fear, “But how did this demoness come here, Maharaj? Why did she come? Never before has such trouble happened in Gokul. Who wants to kill the children of Gokul, Maharaj? Who can be so cruel?”

Nanda stood silent for a moment, then said, “That is what I am thinking. Is this really someone’s plot? If it is, then many more dangers are waiting for Gokul. It does not seem that this plot will end with this one demoness alone.”

By then the people of Braj had cut Putana’s huge body into pieces with axes. They carried those pieces far away from the main land of Gokul and burned them on a wooden pyre. The body of the demoness Putana burned fiercely in the fire.

Then Shukadeva said, “But do you know what was strange, King? From that fire came a pure fragrance like incense.”

The people of Braj looked around in surprise.

“Where is this smell coming from? No worship is going on here.”

“That smell is coming from the pyre of that demoness.”

Parikshit asked, “How strange. How can this be? How did this happen, O sage? Why did the pyre of the sinful demoness Putana give off the smell of incense?”

Shukadeva answered, “Putana’s death was different from that of others, King. God did not simply kill Putana. He delivered her. That is why such a holy fragrance came from her pyre.”

“Putana was delivered?” Parikshit said in wonder. “Why, Acharyadev? How did Putana receive such great fortune?”

Shukadeva said, “Then I must speak again of King Bali, Parikshit. Shri Hari broke the pride of King Bali. He came to the sacrifice in the form of Vamana. At the end of the rite, Narayan asked Bali for only three steps of land. Proud Bali gave that land with scorn. Then the Lord covered heaven with one step and earth with the second. But where would he place his third step? Then Bali understood his mistake. Recognizing Shri Hari, he bowed and offered his own head. God placed his foot upon that head. By the weight of that foot, King Bali went down to the underworld. That Bali had a daughter. Her name was Ratnamala.”

Parikshit asked, “Was she also present at that sacrifice, Lord?”

“Yes,” said Shukadeva. “Seeing the wonderful beauty and sweet smile of Vamana, who looked like a divine child, motherly love rose in Ratnamala’s heart. In her mind she thought, ‘How beautiful this boy is. What strange charm there is in his face and eyes. Ah, whose child is he? His face has become dry under the strong sun. I wish to seat him on my lap and feed him with love. If only he were my son.’”

Then the Lord answered that unspoken wish.

“You wish to feed me milk, thinking of me as your child, Ratnamala. So be it. I shall fulfill this wish of yours.”

Shukadeva continued, “That same Ratnamala, the daughter of King Bali, was born as Putana in the Dvapara age, Parikshit. Even though she had the nature of a demoness, she had once loved Shri Hari with the affection of a mother. By the power of that merit, Krishna himself washed away all impurity from within her. While drawing out her milk, he also drew out her sin and purified her. Thus Putana gained liberation. That is why such a holy fragrance came from her pyre.”

Parikshit said with joy, “Truly, Lord, the play of Hari gives fearlessness. Then even one who is sinful and impure has a right to merit. Such a one too may gain freedom. Shri Krishna himself destroys the bonds of worldly life. Hearing of Putana’s liberation makes my heart restless with joy, Lord. Then I too may become fearless in the name of Shri Hari.”

“This is the greatness of Hari’s name, King,” said Shukadeva. “He himself removes danger. That is why he is called Hari. He takes away the sins, sorrows, and pain of one who surrenders to him. Putana is a clear proof of this.”

Parikshit then asked, “Tell me, after Putana was delivered, what happened in Gokul, Lord? Seeing such a wonderful act of baby Krishna, were the cowherd men and women not afraid?”

“King,” Shukadeva replied, “you call it wonderful, but Gokul did not think in that way. The cowherd men and women there became anxious only for Krishna’s safety. Yashoda and Rohini ran and lifted the child down from the chest of that dead demoness with the terrible form. Their whole bodies were shaking with fear. They spread a washed cloth on the veranda and laid the child there. While chanting protective mantras, they brushed him with a cow’s tail. Mother Yashoda bathed the child in water mixed with cow dung, placed a tilak on his forehead, and touched his head with the dust of a cow’s feet. Then she began to chant the names of God.”

With trembling lips, Yashoda prayed:

“Lord, may your two feet protect him. May the worthy one protect his two thighs. May the heart be protected. May Keshava protect his two arms. May Vishnu, the Supreme Soul, protect his soul and his life. May Narayan stay before him. May Shri Hari, holder of the discus and mace, stay behind him. May they protect him from all sides. O Lord, protect Yashoda’s darling. Please keep him safe. Nam Vishnu, Nam Vishnu, Nam Vishnu.”

Then the women said, “Maharaj Nanda, now you come. Chant over your son’s head. If the blessings of father and mother remain, then no danger will come to Krishna, King.”

Nanda bent over his child and chanted, “Namo Shri Hari, Namo Shri Hari, Namo Shri Hari.”

Seeing so much worry, chanting, and rites of purification all around him, the little child perhaps became frightened. He began to cry loudly. Hearing the baby cry, Mother Yashoda at once took him in her arms.

“There, my child, there, there. I am here. Do not be afraid, dear one. You are with your mother. Are you hungry, my jewel? Are you hungry? Come, come. I will feed you milk now. Do not cry, do not cry. Here, you will drink now.”

But Krishna’s danger did not end with Putana’s death.

In Gokul one accident followed another. And all those accidents happened around Krishna. But no one could understand how they always came to an end. Mother Yashoda only grew weak with fear. Through worship, sacrifice, gifts, and prayer, she tried to keep her son safe and healthy.

Parikshit said eagerly, “Please tell me of a few more such events, O Brahmarshi. I am very eager to hear of that unique sweetness of Krishna’s play.”

Shukadeva nodded. “Listen, King. Now I will tell you of the demon Sakata.”

“When Kansa heard of Putana’s death,” Shukadeva said, “he became blind with anger. He could not believe that anyone could kill such a terrible master of magic as Putana. To avenge her death, he secretly sent a demon named Utkacha to Gokul.”

Parikshit asked, “O sage, who was Utkacha? Was he one of Kansa’s followers?”

“Just as Putana was a partner in Kansa’s evil deeds, so was Utkacha,” said Shukadeva. “For tasks that could not be done by physical strength, Kansa sent such demons. He sent Utkacha to Gokul. The main reason was that this demon had no body of flesh and blood. So no one could even see him. Taking on an airy form, Utkacha wandered where he wished, hidden from people’s eyes. Kansa sent that airy Utkacha to destroy the children of Gokul.”

“The day Utkacha came secretly to Gokul,” Shukadeva continued, “there was a festival.”

Parikshit asked, “What festival was it, Lord?”

“Nanda’s son was then three months old,” said Shukadeva. “Little Krishna had just learned to smile at the people of Braj. In the cradle he had learned to turn from one side to the other. He stretched out both hands, wanting to be taken in someone’s lap. If no one lifted him, he puffed his cheeks and cried in hurt pride. Yashoda’s darling was slowly growing up. Yashoda’s heart could not hold its joy. Wishing for her child’s well-being, King Nanda arranged worship and sacred rites in the house. Worship in Nanda’s house meant a great festival. Everyone from Gokul came there. With everyone joining in, a wonderful atmosphere was created. This time too it was the same. The Brahmins came and performed the worship. King Nanda gave them gold necklaces, costly clothes, and many cows as gifts. They were all blessing Nanda’s son and leaving one by one. Yashoda, meanwhile, had laid Krishna in the cradle and was busy caring for the guests.”

Guests arrived from all around.

“Come, brother, come. Here, this way. Oh mother, come, come.”

Another said, “How happy I am. Where is your Kanai, Queen Nanda? Let me see him once.”

Yashoda replied with a smile, “There he is in the cradle. Oh, how naughty he has become. Does he let anyone rest in peace?”

A woman laughed and said, “Say what you will, but if Kanai does not make mischief, we do not find peace either.”

Yashoda and Rohini were busy greeting and caring for the cowherd men and women. Meanwhile, Yashoda’s darling, lying in the cradle, began to cry. No one heard his cry. Kanai began to cry, waving his hands and feet.

Near the head of the cradle stood a large wooden cart used for carrying loads. On top of it were large pots of ghee, milk, and kheer.

Suddenly there came a loud, heavy sound.

At once everyone ran there.

“Maharaj Nanda, Maharaj Nanda, please come and see. What a terrible thing!”

Nanda hurried over. “What? What happened? What was that sound?”

They pointed in shock. “How did such a huge wooden cart overturn like this? All the things in the big pots are scattered everywhere. Look, King.”

Nanda frowned. “That is true. How could this happen?”

Then a little child spoke up boldly. “I know, I know. I saw how it happened.”

An elder asked, “What did you see? How did you see it?”

The child answered, “I was playing here with my friends. Then I saw it. This little boy lying in the cradle kicked so hard that the huge cart loaded with goods turned over from that blow.”

The grown-ups stared at him. “What are you saying? Can such a big cart overturn from the kick of a three-month-old baby? Can such a thing ever happen?”

“But that is what happened,” said the child. “We all saw it.”

“Yes, we saw it too,” the other children cried.

One of the elders shook his head. “What is this? Come away, Maharaj. One should not listen to children. They must have seen something or other and started making up a story, as children do. The cart must have overturned for some other reason. Come, brothers, all of you lend a hand. We have to lift it up. Here, hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it.”

Everyone together lifted the cart and set it upright again. Then they placed on it once more the pots of curd, milk, kheer, and butter.

Nanda went back to his guests, but his mind remained troubled. Had the children made it all up, or had something really happened?

Parikshit asked, “Tell me, did something really happen, O sage?”

“Yes, King,” said Shukadeva. “That is exactly what happened. I told you about the demon Utkacha. Taking a body of air, he had entered that cart. Then he was about to overturn that huge cart with all its load upon baby Krishna’s head. If it had fallen on any child, death would have been certain. It had almost tipped over. At that moment the three-month-old baby struck it with a mighty kick. With a great sound, the cart was thrown aside. And the demon Utkacha gained release.”

Parikshit asked in wonder, “Utkacha was freed? Even after coming to kill Krishna, how did he gain release, O sage?”

“By the kick of Govinda, any sin will find release, King,” Shukadeva said. “After the touch of the Supreme Soul himself, what sin can remain?”

The king then asked, “Then did Utkacha have some good fortune from before, Acharyadev? What was his earlier identity? I greatly wish to know that, Lord.”

“Yes, King,” Shukadeva replied. “There was both Brahma’s curse upon Utkacha and also a sage’s blessing. By the power of that blessing, he was freed. Listen, I will tell you who Utkacha was. He was Devadij, the son of the demon Hiranyaksha. He respected no holy man or saint. One day he went to the ashram of the sage Lomasha and destroyed his garden. In great anger the sage cursed him and said, ‘You sinner, how dare you? Since you are so proud of that huge body of yours, from today, by my curse, you will have that body no more. Live without a body.’”

Devadij fell at the sage’s feet and cried, “Forgive me, O master. I will never do such a sin again. Forgive me this once, this once. If I lose my body, how will I go on living, Lord? Have mercy on me. Take back your curse, Lord, take it back.”

But Lomasha said, “My curse will not return. You will surely lose your body. But since you are sorry, I give you a blessing, Utkacha. In the Dvapara age you will receive a body of air. When that body is destroyed by the kick of Shri Hari, you will gain liberation.”

Shukadeva continued, “Though the body of the demon Utkacha was destroyed by the curse of sage Lomasha, his life ended by the blow of Govinda’s holy feet, and the path to liberation opened for him. Do you know, King, the anger of a holy man is also his grace. A true saint can never wish harm to anyone. So Utkacha’s highest gain also came through the grace of that sage Lomasha.”

Parikshit bowed and said, “Truly, Acharyadev, by your grace I am beginning to understand the greatness of the company of holy people. One by one my desires are being destroyed, Lord. I am finding peace. Who except a true saint can describe with such sweetness the stories of Hari? Who else has that power, Lord?”

Shukadeva replied, “All power is truly only a part of that one great Power. He alone is the source of all power in the world. Listen, Parikshit, now I will tell you of that supreme power in Gokul, such a power that even Mother Yashoda, out of fear, had to put down her beloved child from her lap before she found peace.”

Parikshit said eagerly, “Why, O sage? Why did Mother Yashoda move him away from herself? Please tell me that story now, Lord. I have not heard it.”

“It is a wonderful tale, King,” said Shukadeva. “Very well, listen.”

In Yashoda’s lap her dear darling was slowly growing.

Yashoda did a thousand tasks, but she would not let Kanai leave her lap. That day too, the queen was doing housework with her son in her arms. The milk-drinking child was lying in his mother’s lap and playing happily by himself.

Then, while working, Yashoda suddenly stopped.

Her heart trembled strangely.

She looked down in alarm and said, “Such a strange thing has never happened before. Kanai, why can I not hold you in my lap? Kanai, what is the matter, child? Why are you becoming so heavy, Kanai? You are such a little boy. Yet on my lap it feels as if a stone has been placed. Why can I not lift my child? What has happened to Kanai again? Will some danger come to Kanai? O Lord, keep my child well, keep him safe, Lord. Keep him safe. Let no harm come to him.”

Mother Yashoda trembled within herself. What had never happened before, why was it happening today?

Kanai’s weight kept growing heavier and heavier. It became impossible to keep him in her lap. It was as if he were Mount Himalaya itself. It was hard to work while holding such a child.

At last the queen put him down from her lap onto the ground.

But Kanai lay on the ground and kept playing happily.

Fearing that some harm might come to her son, Queen Yashoda, frightened, began hanging holy offerings from the gods all over his body.

Mother Yashoda had much work. She could not simply sit still. Though she was afraid for her son, the queen returned to her household duties. Kanai lay on the ground and played happily by himself.

Then all at once, a great whirlwind came to Gokul.

There had been nothing at all before. Then suddenly a terrible storm wind began to blow. In its force, bricks and stones began flying through the air. Trees were uprooted. Everything that was there began to fly away. Within a few moments darkness spread over all Gokul.

A new danger had come to Gokul.

This danger too had come from Mathura.

Shukadeva said, “In truth, Kansa could find no peace at all. Putana had died. Utkacha had died. That two such magical demons could die in this way was beyond anything Kansa had imagined. He had never heard of such a thing. So now all his mind and heart were fixed on Gokul. He no longer had any doubt that there was some secret there. But he could not uncover what that secret was. So he found no peace. He made yet another new plot. This time the one Kansa sent was named Trinavarta. He was Kansa’s servant and the partner in all his evil deeds. No one in Mathura could stand before Trinavarta’s strength. So after Putana, Kansa trusted him greatly. By order of the king of Mathura, the magical Trinavarta came to Gokul, but he did not come in a body. Taking the form of a violent whirlwind, Trinavarta rose in the sky of Gokul. Clouds and heavy dust brought darkness over Gokul. At the same time there was a rain of bricks and stones. The people of Gokul were now wild with fear.”

Cries rose from every side.

“Who is this? What sign of doom is this? Why has night fallen in broad daylight? Why can I see nothing through all this dust and stone? Where are you? Save me. I am dying. My house is breaking apart.”

Another cried, “A day of great danger has come upon Gokul. Maharaj Nanda, save us, Maharaj Nanda.”

Others shouted in terror, “Oh, oh, who is there, wherever you are? Save us. Our cows and calves are being blown away. Our houses are broken. Oh, is this a storm or a demon? We have never seen such a storm. O Lord, what has happened? Protect Gokul, Lord.”

Across all Gokul there arose terrible cries and wailing. Whoever could tried to run away, but they could not. Darkness filled their eyes and they fell to the ground.

Crying had begun in Nanda’s house too.

Filled with fear for her life, Yashoda now ran outside. She had laid Kanai there. But now the courtyard was empty. No one was anywhere. From the courtyard a mighty whirl rose upward before Yashoda’s very eyes.

Looking at it, she beat her head and cried out in grief, “Kanai, Kanai, Kanai, where have you gone, child? Come back, Kanai, come back, Kanai, come back. Where has my Kanai gone? My Kanai. Has anyone seen him? Have none of you seen him? Have none of you seen him?”

Kanai, with little Krishna in his arms, rose into the sky inside that terrible whirlwind, carried by the fierce demon.

Then that terrible demon too crashed down to the ground along with the little child.