Why was Lord Krishna Born in Mathura?
Once upon a time, around five thousand years ago, the vibrant land of Braj was cloaked in fear under the tyrannical rule of King Kansa. His oppressive reign, fueled by a lust for power and a heart devoid of compassion, had transformed the once prosperous kingdom into a desolate landscape.
Kansa, a man consumed by darkness, had usurped the throne from his own father, Ugrasena, plunging Mathura into an era of despair. His insatiable greed led to rampant taxation, leaving his subjects impoverished and desperate. Their homes, once sanctuaries of peace and joy, were ransacked by his ruthless soldiers, leaving families shattered and their livelihoods in ruins.
The weight of Kansa’s tyranny extended beyond the material realm, seeping into the spiritual lives of his people. Saints, revered for their wisdom and piety, were mercilessly hunted down and slain, their voices silenced in an attempt to extinguish the flickering flame of hope that still flickered within the hearts of the oppressed.
As the darkness deepened, the people of Braj turned their eyes towards the heavens, their prayers echoing with a desperate plea for divine intervention. They yearned for an avatar, a manifestation of the divine, to descend upon their land and liberate them from the clutches of Kansa’s malevolent rule.
Amidst the reign of terror, Kansa’s heart held a single flicker of affection — his love for his sister, Devaki. He believed that their bond was unbreakable, a sanctuary amidst the chaos he had unleashed upon the world. In a grand ceremony, he arranged her marriage to Vasudeva, a noble and just king.
As Devaki prepared to depart from her beloved home, the skies darkened, and an ominous prophecy echoed through the heavens. A divine voice boomed, declaring that the eighth son born to Devaki would bring about Kansa’s downfall, signalling the end of his tyrannical rule.
Fear gripped Kansa’s heart. He couldn’t fathom the idea of facing his own demise, especially at the hands of his beloved sister’s child. In a fit of desperation, he resorted to the same ruthless tactics he had employed against his father. Without a second thought, he imprisoned Devaki and her husband, Vasudeva.
One morning, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, news reached Kansa that Devaki, his imprisoned sister, had given birth to a child. A wave of dread washed over him, the prophecy echoing ominously in his mind. Yet, a flicker of doubt lingered, a seed of uncertainty planted by his shrewd minister.
“Your Majesty,” the minister counselled, his voice laced with caution, “the prophecy speaks of the eighth son, not the first. What if this is a divine ploy to deceive us? What if they begin counting the children backwards, or the prophecy is incomplete?”
Kansa’s brow furrowed, his mind wrestling with the conflicting thoughts. The fear of the prophecy gnawed at him, while the possibility of being misled by trickery tugged at his pride. Consumed by paranoia and a thirst for self-preservation, he made a fateful decision.
One by one, as Devaki gave birth to each child, Kansa, his heart hardened by fear and a twisted sense of duty, snatched the newborn from her arms and mercilessly ended their innocent lives. Six times, the echoes of a mother’s anguished cries reverberated through the palace walls, each wail a testament to Kansa’s growing desperation and the depths of his depravity.
The kingdom of Mathura trembled under the weight of Kansa’s cruelty, the air thick with fear and despair. The prophecy loomed like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the lives of its inhabitants. Yet, amidst the darkness, a flicker of hope remained, an unwavering belief that even in the face of overwhelming adversity, the forces of good would prevail.
The seventh child, unlike his six predecessors, was no ordinary infant. He was the avatar of Seshanaga, the serpent deity who had served as Lakshmana, the loyal younger brother of Rama in their previous earthly incarnations.
As fate would have it, Lakshmana, in their previous life, had expressed a desire to switch roles with Rama, wishing to experience the role of the elder brother. Their celestial bond was such that their wish was granted, and so, in this incarnation, Lakshmana was reborn as Balarama, the elder brother of Krishna.
To ensure Balarama’s safety, Rohini, Devaki’s sister and a woman of immense power and influence, devised a plan. She would undergo a womb transfer, taking Devaki’s unborn child into her own womb. This daring act would allow Balarama to be born outside the confines of Kansa’s prison, safeguarding him from the tyrant’s murderous clutches.
With meticulous planning and unwavering determination, Rohini executed the womb transfer, becoming the surrogate mother of the divine child. Balarama, the elder brother of Krishna, was born into the world, and his destiny intertwined with that of his younger sibling.
With the birth of Balarama, the divine stage was set for the arrival of Krishna and to complete the trio — Radha Rani, the embodiment of divine love and the eternal consort of Krishna. In the tranquil village of Rawal, nestled near the lush greenery of Gokul, Radha Rani descended upon the earth, her presence heralding a new era of love, devotion, and spiritual awakening.
Born eleven months and fifteen days before Krishna, Radha Rani’s arrival marked the culmination of a celestial bond that transcended time and space. She was the feminine manifestation of Krishna’s divine essence, the embodiment of pure love and devotion that would forever intertwine their destinies.
From the moment of her birth, Radha Rani radiated an aura of divinity, her beauty captivating all who beheld her. Her eyes, like pools of celestial nectar, reflected the depths of her love and compassion, while her laughter, like the tinkling of bells, echoed with the purity of her spirit.
Amidst the chaos of a dark and stormy night, as the thunder roared and rain lashed down relentlessly, Devaki, imprisoned within the confines of Kansa’s palace, found herself face to face with the divine. In a dream, Lord Vishnu, the preserver of the universe, appeared before her, seeking her blessings to take birth as her child, not in his celestial form, but as a human baby.
Devaki, overwhelmed with reverence and love, readily agreed, her heart swelling with a mother’s pride and the weight of a momentous responsibility. She understood that her child was destined to be the saviour of Mathura, the one who would overthrow the tyrannical rule of Kansa and restore peace to the kingdom.
As the night deepened, Lord Vishnu invoked the powers of Maya, the goddess of illusion, to lull the guards into a deep slumber and open the prison gates, clearing the path for his arrival. With divine intervention, Devaki gave birth to a baby boy, radiating with an otherworldly glow, his presence exuding an aura of serenity and power.
Vasudeva, Krishna’s father, cradled the newborn in his arms, his heart filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. He knew that their journey would be fraught with peril, but he was determined to protect his son from Kansa’s clutches. As he embarked on the treacherous journey to Gokul, a village nestled amidst the serene Vrindavan countryside, the path was fraught with obstacles.
The River Yamuna, swollen with the monsoon rains, raged like a tempestuous sea, blocking their passage. Vasudeva, overwhelmed by despair, feared that his son’s life was in danger. But Krishna, with a mere glance, calmed the turbulent waters, creating a safe passage for his father to cross.
The divine intervention at the Yamuna River marked a turning point in Krishna’s life, a testament to his extraordinary powers and the unwavering protection of the gods. Guided by Maya, Vasudeva safely reached Gokul, where he entrusted Krishna to the care of Yashoda and Nanda, a noble couple known for their kindness and compassion.
Nanda, a wise and benevolent man, understood the gravity of the situation. He knew that Kansa’s tyranny had cast a shadow over Mathura, and Krishna’s birth was a beacon of hope for the oppressed. Without hesitation, he welcomed Krishna into his home, embracing him as his own son.
Coincidentally, on the same day, Yashoda, Nanda’s devoted wife, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Nanda, seizing upon this divine opportunity, devised a plan to outwit Kansa. He entrusted his newborn daughter to Vasudeva, instructing him to return to the prison and present her as Devaki’s eighth child.
With Maya’s divine assistance, Vasudeva successfully carried out the plan. As he returned to the prison, Maya once again wove her illusory web, casting a spell that transformed the prison cells and lulled the guards into a deep slumber. When the guards awoke, they found Devaki cradling an infant girl.
As he entered the dimly lit confines of the cell, Kansa’s gaze fell upon the newborn girl, wrapped snugly in her mother’s arms. A wave of disbelief washed over him. He had spent years dreading the birth of a male child, the one prophesied to bring about his downfall, but instead, he found a mere infant girl.
A sardonic laugh escaped his lips, his voice echoing through the silent prison. “So, this is the mighty warrior who is to be my undoing?” he scoffed, his eyes gleaming with a cruel irony. “A helpless girl, barely a day old. What threat could she possibly pose to me?”
Kansa’s minister, a man known for his shrewdness and caution, stepped forward, his voice laced with apprehension. “Your Majesty,” he cautioned, “while this may seem like a stroke of luck, we must not underestimate the possibility of deception. What if this is a divine ploy, a way to lull us into a false sense of security? And what if the man who marries this girl becomes the instrument of your downfall?”
Kansa’s brow furrowed, his mind wrestling with the conflicting thoughts. On one hand, he was tempted to dismiss the minister’s concerns as mere paranoia. After all, he had survived numerous assassination attempts, and a mere girl seemed like an insignificant threat.
However, the minister’s words lingered in his mind, planting seeds of doubt and fear. The prophecy had haunted him for years, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the girl’s birth was too convenient, too easy.
Torn between his pride and his fear, Kansa made a fateful decision. “We cannot take any chances. Let’s kill her too.”
As Kansa approached the newborn girl with murderous intent in his eyes, the infant, radiating with divine power, transformed into a magnificent goddess, her celestial form filling the sky with an ethereal glow. Her voice, resonating with the power of the universe, echoed through the prison, striking fear into Kansa’s heart.
“Kansa,” she declared, her voice echoing with divine authority, “the one destined to bring about your downfall has already taken birth from the womb of Devaki. He is safe and will soon fulfil the prophecy.”
Kansa’s face contorted in disbelief and anger. He had been so close to escaping his fate, only to have it snatched away from his grasp.
“You lie!” he roared, his voice trembling with fury. “I have killed all of Devaki’s children. The prophecy cannot be fulfilled.”
The goddess, her expression serene amidst Kansa’s rage, shook her head. “Those children were not the ones you were destined to fear. They were your chances to repent, to seek forgiveness for your sins. But you chose darkness over light, tyranny over compassion.”
Her words pierced through Kansa’s hardened heart, awakening a flicker of guilt and regret. He realized that his actions had sealed his fate, and there was no escape from the consequences of his evil deeds.
“Prepare for your end, Kansa,” the goddess proclaimed, her voice resonating with finality. “Your reign of terror will soon come to an end.”
With a final flash of light, the goddess vanished into the sky, leaving Kansa alone with his impending doom.
Gripped by fear and desperation, Kansa fled the prison, the goddess’s words echoing ominously in his mind. He rushed back to his palace, his heart pounding with a mixture of terror and rage. Summoning his most fearsome demons and devils, he issued a chilling command: to search every corner of the land and eliminate every newborn child.
Meanwhile, in the idyllic village of Gokul, Krishna continued his carefree existence, surrounded by the love and laughter of his foster parents, Yashoda and Nanda. He frolicked amidst the lush greenery, his playful antics and mischievous pranks bringing joy to all who encountered him.
As the days turned into weeks, the threat from Kansa’s forces grew closer. The demons and devils, driven by their master’s fear, spread terror throughout the land, ruthlessly eliminating any child they encountered.
However, Krishna, despite his tender age, was not an ordinary child. He was the embodiment of divine power, a saviour destined to protect the innocent and vanquish evil. As the demons approached Gokul, their intentions clear, Krishna, with his divine grace and playful demeanour, outsmarted and defeated them, their fearsome powers no match for his celestial wisdom.
To be continued…
