Trishashti Shalaka Purusha Caritra

by Helen M. Johnson | 1931 | 742,503 words

This page describes Krishna’s childhood which is the eighth part of chapter V of the English translation of the Neminatha-caritra, contained within the “Trishashti Shalaka Purusha Caritra”: a massive Jain narrative relgious text composed by Hemacandra in the 12th century. Neminatha in jainism is the twenty-second Tirthankara (Jina) and one of the 63 illustrious beings or worthy persons.

The boy was named Kṛṣṇa because of his black body and, protected by the gods, he grew up in Nanda’s house. When a month had passed, Devakī said to Vasudeva, “I am eager to see my son. I shall go to Gokula.”[1] Śauri said: “Kaṃsa will see you going unexpectedly. So it is proper for you to go, after inventing some reason, Devakī. Accompanied by many women, worshipping cows everywhere, you should go to Gokula by the cow-path.” Devakī did so.

Devakī saw there her son, his breast marked with the śrīvatsa, his complexion like a petal of the blue lotus, his eyes like blooming white lotuses, his hands and feet marked by the disc, et cetera, polished like a sapphire, sitting on Yaśodā’s lap, delighting the heart. With the pretext of cow-worship Devakī went there constantly. The custom of cow-worship commenced among the people from that time.

Then from inherited hostility Sūrpaka’s two daughters, Śakuni and Pūtanā, unable to injure Vasudeva, went to Gokula, like witches most evil, to kill Kṛṣṇa, who was alone without Yaśodā and Nanda. Śakuni, standing on a carl, cried out sharply to Kṛṣṇa standing below and Pūtanā thrust her breast smeared with poison into Kṛṣṇa’s mouth. Instantly the deities attending on Kṛṣṇa struck them both with the same cart and killed them.

Nanda came there, saw Kṛṣṇa alone, the cart overturned and the two Khecarīs who had been killed. Saying, “I have been robbed,” he put Kṛṣṇa on his lap and reproachfully asked the herdsmen: “How was the cart overturned? Who are these two dead women with red faces like Rākṣasīs? My son. (left) alone, is alive only because of his good fortune.” The herdsmen said: “Master, this cart was overturned by this strong child of yours and these women were killed by him alone.”

Hearing that, Nanda examined Keśava over all his body and, seeing that he was uninjured, said to Yaśodā: “Why do you attend to other business, leaving the boy alone? Left even for a few minutes just now, he falls into misfortunes here. Even if the jars of ghī are roiling about, you must not go anywhere, leaving Kṛṣṇa alone. Enough of your other work.” Hearing that speech, Yaśodā, saying, “Oh! I am killed!” beating her breast with her hand, picked up Kṛṣṇa. Asking. “You are not hurt?” accompanied by an examination of his body. Yaśodā kissed Kṛṣṇa on the head and embraced him. Zealously Yaśodā carried him herself constantly, but Kṛṣṇa, impetuous by disposition, went here and there by tricks.

One day, afraid of his running away, she tied Kṛṣṇa by a rope around the waist, fastened the end of the rope to a mortar, and went to a neighboring house. Then Sūrpaka’s son, recalling his ancestral hostility, went there and assumed the form of two arjuna[2] trees near each other. He led Kṛṣṇa with the mortar between them in order to crush him and he was killed by Kṛṣṇa’s deity, who destroyed the arjuna trees. Hearing from a cowherd that the two arjunas had been uprooted by Kṛṣṇa like an elephant, Nanda came with Yaśodā. They kissed Kṛṣṇa, gray with dust, affectionately on the head and the herdsmen called him ‘Dāmodara’ from tying with the rope.

He, dearer than life, was held on breast, hip, and head day and night by the cowherds and milkmaids. He took the fresh butter from the churns mischievously and was not hindered by the herdsmen, gentle from affection, looking at his curious performances. He gave joy to Yaśodā, Nanda, and the herdsmen, whether talking, wandering about, lighting, or eating. Afraid of accidents, they were not able to prevent him going about, but only followed him, lettered by the bonds of affection.

Daśārha heard that he had killed Śakuni and Pūtanā, overturned the cart, and destroyed the two arjunas. He reflected: “I concealed the son, but he is becoming known by his strength. May Kaṃsa not find out about him oven if he docs find out. may he not be able to do anything unfavorable to him. Which one of my sons can I send to Kṛṣṇa’s ail? Akrūra and the others are known to Kaṃsa who has cruel ideas. Rāma is a good one to assign, since he is not known to him now.”

Making this decision, Śauri had Rohiṇī and Rāma brought from Kośalā[3] and, having talked with them, sent them to Śauryapura. One day he summoned Rāma and told him everything in detail, gave him instructions, and turned him over to Yaśodā and Nanda as a son. The two, ten bows tail, handsome, played, watched unwinkingly by the milkmaids whose work was neglected. Kṛṣṇa studied archery and all the arts at Rāma’s side, always having assistance bestowed by the herdsmen. Sometimes as friends, sometimes as teacher and pupil, they did various things, never separated even for a moment. Keśava seized by the tail excited bulls as they went along. Rāma, knowing his brother’s strength, looked on like a stranger.

Kṛṣṇa grew up there in such a way that the love of the milkmaids became a disease from looking at him. The milkmaids put him in the center and made a ballet (hallīsa) around him, like bees circling ardently around a lotus. The milkmaids neither closed their eyes, looking at him, nor their lips, murmuring. “Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa.” The milk-pail was knocked over because their attention was fixed on Kṛṣṇa and sometimes they milked the cows on the ground without knowing it. They pretended terror, even when it did not exist, to make Kṛṣṇa face them quickly, when he was going away with his back to them. For he was devoted to comforting the terrified.

Gathering wreaths of the sinduvāra, et cetera, the milkmaids themselves placed them on Kṛṣṇa’s chest, like svayaṃvara-wreaths. They stumbled at the beginning of song and dance, even when they knew thorn, eager to sip gracious speech from Kṛṣṇa in the guise of teaching. The milkmaids talked and touched him for any reason whatever, as if he were the lord of the herdsmen, their passion unconcealed. Wearing a peacock’s tail, Kṛṣṇa sang gurjarīs[4] of the herdsmen, the intervals being completed by the milkmaids without interruption. Kṛṣṇa. being asked, pulled up lotuses growing, in deep water, swimming easily like a haṃsa, and gave them to the milkmaids.

“When your brother is seen, he steals our heart: but when he is not seen, he takes our life,” (he milkmaids reproached Rāma. Rāma’s younger brother frequently made Rāma laugh, standing on a mountain-peak, playing the sweet-voiced lute, and dancing. Rāma, like an excellent stage-manager, clapped to keep time for the milkmaids singing and the cowherd Kṛṣṇa dancing.

While Rāma and Kṛṣṇa sported in this way as cowherds there, eleven years passed happily like the suṣamā-period.[5]

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

Nanda’s cattle-station.

[2]:

Terminalia arjuna (MW); Pentaptera arjuna (Roxb).

[3]:

Jove must have nodded. There has been no mention of Rohiṇī and Rāma going to Kośalā. Presumably they have been in Śauryapura, since Vasudeva collected his wives and went there. See p. 152.

[4]:

The name of a Rāgiṇī. a musical mode.

[5]:

The time of Bliss in the wheel of time. It is the second-best period, next to Pure Bliss.

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