Gopalacampu 1.12

Now the thirteenth chapter:

The Subduing of the Fierceness of Kāliya and the Forest Fire

[1] Then, when the assembly of the glorious king of Vraja was shining resplendent as it did every morning, Madhukaṇṭha, eager to tell the story, considered within his mind:

[2] “Indeed, the destruction of Dhenuka on the day marking the commencement of pasturing the cows was described earlier by Śrī Bādarāyaṇi merely out of similarity with the occasion of herding them. In reality, however, it has been determined by wisdom to have occurred at the end of the boyhood age (paugaṇḍa), since an entering of early youth (kaiśora) is described when he entered the house at the end of that day. Hence, by Śrī Parāśara too, this event was placed precisely after the subjugation of Kāliya. And in the Śrī Harivaṃśa, it is explicitly stated: ‘When the king of serpents was subdued by Kṛṣṇa in the pool of the Yamunā,’ having said which, the slaying of Dhenuka was commenced. The same is also made evident by logic. In the Padma Purāṇa, it is clearly seen stated that the commencement of cow-herding occurs on the eighth day of the bright fortnight of Kārtika. The season of ripe palmyra fruit is indeed Bhādrapada, and there the shaking of Dhenuka is renowned. Therefore, we will first narrate the subjugation of Kāliya.”

[3] But he spoke this openly:

“Those who are renowned on earth as poets are really to be considered non-poets,
for they describe intense sorrow merely saying, ‘Joy will follow!’ ||13.1||”

Having paused into silence after saying this, he spoke once more: “Or rather—”

“That joy or valor is supreme in this world which continuously triumphs incomparably
after overcoming adversity that stands in its way.
And that poet truly shines forth as superior who, corresponding to that nature,
continually sings of it without ever becoming fully satisfied! ||13.2||”

[4] “Therefore, though this event resulting in the banishment of Kāliya is seemingly very hard to bear at first, it must certainly be recounted by us and heard by you, accompanied as it is by an abundance of happiness in the sequel.” Having made this request, he spoke with trembling:

[5] Thus, while the [cows named] Arjunīs were being grazed nearby for a long time, Śrī Balarāma gave his assent to go around the reservoir that was the abode of Kāliya, following the conduct taught by Śrī Vraja's queen. But the desire to see it had never diminished for Śrī Balarāma's younger brother since long before— [6] through intense curiosity and through his unimpaired power of splendor that, from birth, could brook no effulgence from wicked beings.

[7] Matters being so, as always, on a certain day the monthly birth-constellation called Śravaṇā of Kṛṣṇa's elder brother arrived like a guest into renown in the assembly of Vraja. And at that time, Saṅkarṣaṇa remained right in his own house, engaged in the joyful, auspicious bathing and other rites. [8] At that time, because certain new cows exceedingly near to calving certainly had to be protected by himself, the friend of Śrīdāman, accompanied by his friends, set out into the forest even without him. But having set a time for coming together at the mealtime, and a chance for deceit having been found, that ocean of the nectar of Hari swiftly plunged into the quarter of the Kāliya pool in the Kālindī, which was full of deadly poison, like Kāla-kūṭa poison to anyone else.

[9] There, while the best cowherd boys who walked before the cows lingered a little, impelled by intense curiosity that arose upon seeing an unfed, fresh portion of the forest, the foremost cattle, tormented by the lengthening thirst of summer, drank the water of the Kṛṣṇā that was perturbed by Kāliya's poison. And from merely drinking, they fell down unconscious; and within a moment, those who walked ahead, bearing sorrow at seeing it, in a desire to abandon their bodies suddenly fell down as well, drinking it themselves. [10] This, however, was the unfailing working of Yogamāyā, which indeed brings to pass even the impossible to uproot the wicked.

[11] Then, after an hour had passed, this one whose form is dark as a raincloud arrived, and seeing them lying there like dead bodies, he took on another kind of dark pallor, and lamented:

"The cows that are the supreme deities of us who dwell in Vraja, / and these boys who are forever equal to our very life—they lie dead before me! / Alas, alas! I myself was their companion! What shall I say to my brother, my mother, / my father, and everyone? Shame on my reckless daring born of fickle folly!"

[12] Thereupon, from the moon of Vraja's clan, whose heart melted ever more quickly in the wake of the essence of remorse, streams of tears fell, casting their gaze upon the face of each in turn, freezing his own lower lip; and these [tears], turning the earth into sprouts and acting like nectar, brought everything back to consciousness one by one. But the enemy of Mura, absorbed in approaching those lying right before him, did not perceive the consciousness of those resting in places not before him at that moment; only after some time did he perceive it.

[13] And having all been brought to consciousness, they did not engage in deliberation for long; for perceiving the enemy of Agha wandering here and there, who had saved them from the stupor caused by the deadly poison of the serpent named evil, they concluded again and again that he alone was the root of their consciousness.

[14] Kṛṣṇa, however, seeing them sitting up with disheveled attire, drew them all to himself at once and embraced each one individually. [15] Thus it has been said that this innate quality of his indeed transcends ordinary reasoning: assuming a matching form in whatever mood a devotee might contemplate him, he approaches them simultaneously, even manifesting instantly in many places. / [16] In this regard, the reunion with the boys was as follows: / Their sight filled with tears, their bodies stiffened, their inner minds dissolved— / when every means of union thus repeatedly became useless, / and they remained without any sense of whether this was happiness or sorrow, / no one was able to let go of anyone even a little, bound by love for a long time.

[17] With the cows, it was as follows:

The cows, lowing softly, encircled Kṛṣṇa and licked him for a long time; / their necks gleamed as his two arms embraced them, filled with longing; / though made to release their hold with effort and pulled away by the herdsmen, they stood for a long time, / their eyes never satiated with drinking the nectar-radiance from the moon of his face.

[18] Such being the case, the arising of a special mood in him is made evident: Previously, though Śrī Kṛṣṇa had been eager to cast out Kāliya—whose home was the Kṛṣṇā and who was insolent enough to inflict pain on stationary and moving creatures as far as the ocean—he had remained silent for a long time out of shame before Kāliya's wives. Now, however, an escalating anger arose in full measure, born of his intolerance of the sudden death of the cows and cowherd boys.

[19] And then, dissimulating, he spoke thus: "O comrades! Look, here in his own abode situated in the pool of the river, revealed through an opening made by the science of water-stoppage, lives the wicked serpent named Kāliya. And by the fierce blast of poison spat out by that villain, all the surrounding regions are seen to be scorched. See with your own eyes how even the birds flying above have fallen down here, whose life-breaths, as if in dispute out of fear of that eater of the world's breath, flew off instantly on their own and never returned! But this solitary kadamba tree, sprinkled with nectar by Garuḍa, sustained even by the flame of the deadly venom, flourishes eagerly with charming leaves and branches. Therefore, that flawless nectar clearly still exists inside the hollow at its top; let me climb up by force and see! You, however, graze the cows a little farther away and move along."

[20] Saying this, free from distress, the lotus-faced one climbed the kadamba tree, tightened his sash, and—himself a dense raincloud showering rays of nectar—jumped into that palace of Kāliya, which acquired the same nature by mere proximity, eager for the sport of clean water:

[21] And there, the water in that serpent's lake surged up a hundred bow-lengths. And that should not be considered wondrous for him, who possesses limitless strength as the fruit of the power of King Nanda's austerities; for by him, though his form was not overly ferocious on account of his childhood, that very body appeared exceedingly formidable, like ten million fierce suns, to the hooded serpents there. And then, scraped by the friction of the roar of water churning from his arms that whirled like the stride of a rampaging divine elephant, the serpent king—his company unable to bear that supremacy—suddenly, with the radiance of fire, approached him who was showering smiles out of delight in sport within the interior of his own playground island, who bore lightning in his yellow garment, whose hands, feet, and lips were red mines of beauty, who bore the rainbow of Indra in his forest garland, and who was like a charming dark cloud.

[22] But now, [the serpent] enveloped him with himself, acting like a fire fed with fuel of compounded sulfur and refined potassium nitrate, and hissed loudly. Solely unable to bear the sickness of pride in his own might, that bold conqueror of serpents did not turn back, even when afflicted.

[23] Then, to crush in sport the pride that came from Kāliya's masses of fangs acting like the loops of Varuṇa's noose, he who easily turned back the whirlpool of Tṛṇāvarta remained thus for an hour, his limbs enclosed in armor of Yogamāyā; wherein indeed more than a hundred hoods of that wicked serpent lost their power like spiderwebs, and his fangs resembled wicks of cotton.
[24] But when he who wore a garland of kadamba jumped from the kadamba into the water of the Yamunā, Kāliya's abode, that group of friends, distressed with sorely scorched hearts, screaming to one another with loud lamentations, running with faltering steps, rushed immediately toward it. [25] And the cows together with their calves, joined together, went running after him.

[26] And then, seeing that while all their own were entering that very lake afflicted with agitated poison, the cows too were entering in every direction, the cowherds, touching supreme agony, helpless, almost dead, their bodies collapsing, bowed before the Yamunā, lived solely on the hope of his return, as if from the belly of Aghāsura. And there—

"Is this waking consciousness, a dream, deep sleep, or a swoon, death, or life?"
Thus it seemed; that whole host of friends could not determine at all.
And then, with streams poured forth in showers of tears, the herd of cows
filled their hearts and that pool as if with venom. ||6

[27] While they were outwardly in such a state and inwardly so distraught, the best host of gods, considering that no one [capable of running] swiftly might carry news of that event to Vraja, caused a host of portents to be perceived repeatedly, letting them spread around.

[28] In that matter, the speech of the people of Vraja was as follows:

"How have portents arisen at that very moment in heaven, on earth, and in the sky?
Ah! They have arisen on account of him who is the life of all of us!" ||7

[29] Agitated in this manner, all the subjects together with their village leaders, having gathered at the house of the chief of Vraja for a feast on the birthday star of Kṛṣṇa's elder brother—in short, the queen of the lord of Vraja too, casting off shame along with the women of Vraja, hurried there. From afar she sent word:

"An ill omen has appeared without Balarāma;
alas, the younger brother of Balarāma has gone in the direction of the poison!
Alas, the appointed time has passed, and he has not returned;
how can the king of the settlement remain here at ease?" ||8

And then—
Cursing their bodies, homes, and all possessions,
abandoning the pleasures of that festival,
going toward the turbid bank of Kāliya's pool,
they stood as if their minds were tossed by hosts of winds. ||9

[30] Śrī Rāma, however, who delighted in knowing his brother's prowess, though observing their constant anxiety, did not assume that emotion at that time, but only a desire to protect them. For otherwise an unwanted outcome would occur; thus that proper emotion was spontaneously solicited by Yogamāyā.

[31] Then he reflected thus in his own mind: "Deducing this again and again, we know for certain that the defeat of him, who is a fire consuming the forest of the wicked, cannot be accomplished by anyone, even by the sinless. Even so, these [inhabitants], whose bodies consist of the power of pure affection, having doubts about their lives due to the ill omens falling like thunderbolts, have a reckless determination to go toward the yellow-clad one, the root of their very life. Therefore, like a herd of rampaging wild elephants whose temples melt with passion in extreme snow-water flowing fast, which is sluggish in enduring the scorching heat of forest fires, my restraint will not be heeded by them now. As for this sorrow of theirs born of fear of excessive separation from him, a sorrow that destroys all happiness has arisen in me as well; yet it is not fitting to reveal it directly, like spreading another fire in a blazing forest of fire. Therefore, they whose good fortune is guaranteed must be comforted by the association of suitable, auspicious hints containing only implicit blessings, not by turning them away; for they indeed believe that the two of us share a single life."

[32] Having thus reflected, he suddenly laughed. Following that, moving forward with some comfort gained, they—

Their eyes dimmed along the path by the scent of grief,
their gaze clinging to the splendid marks of Kṛṣṇa's feet,
they staggered on that pathway, though slippery with tears,
their hands resting on the arm Rāma offered.

The faster they hurried on,
the more their feet lagged behind.
Alas, reaching that pool somehow or other,
what condition they fell into, I cannot tell!

There indeed:
Seeing the young cowherd coiled about by the coils of Kāliya,
the cowherds, headed by Nanda, and the cowherd women with broken hearts, led by Yaśodā,
carried—alas!—a state of shriveled limbs and deep pallor, such that
one would think the fire within them was about to leap forth outside.

Seeing human beings act like beasts through loss of their wits,
and beasts act like human beings by their crying, they experienced anguish.

And then:
Though by nature always composed of affection,
and then dried stiff by dread as if by frost,
they melted once more from the mutual confluence of sorrow born of looking at each other,
just as [ice melts] from the sun.

As the inhabitants of Vraja, resembling torrents through their love,
were hastily plunging into the poisoned pool,
Bala, though still a boy, his strength stirring through divine possession,
suddenly assumed the state of a mighty bridge.

And he said:

"Do I have no love for my younger brother? Father, king of Vraja! Mistress of Vraja!
Mother Śrī Rohiṇī! I always know his supreme truth.
Truly, by your lotus feet which grant delight to those who take shelter,
I swear that not even a fraction of an injury will befall a single hair on his head, as Gargācārya foretold!"

Thus, when an arresting hand had been raised by Śrī Rāma with his auspicious arm:

Turned back from the edge of the poisoned pool,
they realized the true state of their own souls;
for seeing Hari inside that [pool], immersed in the fire of deadly venom,
they thought their very selves were plunged within it.

When the enemy of Baka entered the pool of Kāliya,
from the echoing wails of weeping Gokula,
heaven and earth too, weeping, firmly demonstrated
their own etymology through tears.

The cowherd women, neck clinging to neck,
wept aloud, lamenting bitterly,
bringing to mind the destruction of Pūtanā and the rest,
which repeatedly served to comfort the mothers.

Seeing his own settlement—women and children included—so terribly aggrieved on his account
and longing to enter the serpent’s coils,
Kṛṣṇa, wrathfully expanding his limbs, tore that body,
loosened its grip, and at once rose up by force.

Thus, the very rising of Kṛṣṇa became the overthrow of Kāliya, and everyone rejoiced, as follows:

Then, with joy, the clamorous shouts
of the inhabitants of Vraja—children, youth, and the aged alike—
surpassed the sounds of celestial drums combined with cries of victory
and accompanied by showers of blossoms poured down by the gods.

Thereupon, his mind agitated by the splendors thus stimulated, standing afar off with craning neck while his longing was veiled by dullness, this dull-witted snake—his feet concealed, his anger full-grown, resolved to do harm out of an obstruction to his own wits—swelled with arrogant fury, brandishing deadly poison in massed sprays of hissing, puffing, and glaring. Looking like a mountain peak, bewildered about what to do, licking both his mouth-corners cooked by the submarine fire of poison with both his tongues, as if wishing to demonstrate by physical display that his names are 'the double-tongued' and 'the licker', he appeared with his body visible on all sides.

Then, as [Kṛṣṇa], the rider of the serpent-eater, advanced boldly on all sides to seize his mouth and neck with great fury like one learned in the complete art of the snake-charmer, this serpent too, gliding with his hoods, retreated like a snake, approached, and slithered crookedly like a viper, wheeling round and round in exhaustion.

Thus, though engaged for a long time in a contest with this formidable serpent, the younger brother of Bala, catching an opening after a long while, rushed forward and by force seized and held the foundational stalk of all the foremost necks.

And then, as the limbs of that serpent became helpless:
With his gaze radiant out of a longing to perform a clear dance
upon those broad, robust forehead-slopes studded with emerging jewels
and celebrated for their theatrical beauty,
Śrī Kṛṣṇa, of lofty and generous splendor, leaped upon him with immense joy,
having accepted the accompaniment of instrumental music and songs illuminating heaven.

And then:
Once more Vraja, through the beauty of the flood of clear shouts of joy and wonder,
touched the throng of immortals in heaven,
and heaven touched Vraja on the earth; alas, where between the two
no distinction of sound and echo could be discerned!

And then:
Constantly attaining primacy among all heavenly instruments, like the proud festive damaru of Śiva,
with an exuberant, noble dance of destruction performed with speed to punish the coiled serpent,
Hari vividly danced and danced here, trampling each and every raised hood of the serpent king
out of wrath and eager delight in curbing him.
Then:
Shouts of "Victory! Victory! Victory!" arose, creating showers of blossoms;
rows of thrilled hair stood on end, and broad streams of the sweat of joy flowed.
Imitating that dance upon the heads of the serpent-king,
the gods, headed by Śiva and Brahmā, repeatedly produced roars of delight.

Seeing his rising from the snare of the serpent's mouths by means of their own lifespan, / and his most wondrous dancing upon its head, whose toe-nails were worthy of worship, / the living beings of Vraja, headed by the king of Vraja and his beloved, / opened wide their eyes and even their limbs, I think, to pervade the universe.

Indeed, while Kṛṣṇa danced upon the row of its heads / and in the empty air, a wonder occurred: / whenever a head was thrust up in rage by the serpent, / a rhythmic foot-stroke was delivered to it by him.

Vomiting blood from his mouths, spewing poison from his eyes, / bearing wounds from the prints of those feet set upon his heads with their tumbling gems, / giving up, because of his limp-limbed state, the stage of conquest over the host of Garuda's younger brothers— / thus was Kālīya beheld by rows of his wives.

Then, his form broken and shattered, unable to fulfill his own prowess, realizing he had no other recourse, he considered him to be none other than Nārāyaṇa, and thought of him as his refuge in order to ward off the distress whose cause was that [arrogance].

And regarding his wives:

They felt no tenderness toward him as long as / his aversion [to Kṛṣṇa] was known; / but once the sprout of devotion was seen to arise, / they plainly went to Kṛṣṇa as their refuge for his sake.

Some placing their sons before him, others their very infant babies, / and some placing eggs before him, / they bowed down.

And when Kṛṣṇa smiled, eager to console his devotees, those wives of the serpent, skilled in praise in many ways and overwhelmed with joy, made this plaintive appeal. Here is its brief essence: / "This serpent is of unsteady mind, full of pride; / you are omniscient, and likewise an ocean of mercy. / If the status of being a husband to us, who are devoted to you, has arisen for him, / then act as is fitting.

Let those mete out punishment who cannot pacify / wickedness merely through their own association! / By your touch alone, this lake too straightway abandoned / its intense venomousness right before our eyes.

This is our foolishness, since even in your favor / a notion of punishment clearly appears to us toward what has been touched by you. / If it were a punishment, and you wished him to be punished by others, / why would you have placed your lotus foot upon him to do so?

By what good merits in this world, indeed, / does this touch of your lotus foot come to the king of serpents? / And alas, by what sins difficult to atone does his body / perceive that touch as bringing swift death?"

Therefore: / "Kṛṣṇa, who through the imprint of his feet with rows of marks / bestowed grace upon the head of the serpent Kālīya whose head deserved to be severed, / is our refuge."

Then, as that great serpent was humbled, [Kṛṣṇa,] compassionately rejoicing at that, checking his anger, having bestowed fame on Yaśodā, stepped down from Kālīya’s brow that had been bruised by the pounding of his feet. Displaying no excessive prowess, he stood for a few moments before the serpent, who remained with downcast face, his gaze intent with mercy. Then the wearer of the forest garland purified the lake of Kālīya as if it were a lake of the Kālindī.

Then he too, with his faults melting away, banished his anger toward him, and, folding his hands together in reverence, the serpent petitioned:

"Even though sin is my very nature, since I walk the path of sin, yet: / O Kṛṣṇa, whatever virtue or fault is in me, that always / remains subject to your control; but what else is there to be achieved by my own effort? / If you say that seeking refuge in your two feet [is required], even that / has been placed upon my head by you; but what else is there to be achieved by my own effort?"

"Therefore, do you yourself assign me to some direction."

Then he gave this command, an instruction concerning a proper place: 'O lord of serpents, since even though you are now blessed through casting aside wickedness, you yourself are noxious, noxious to the world, therefore:'

"You must not remain here, O serpent; go to the ocean without delay, / accompanied by your kin, offspring, and wives; let the river be enjoyed by cows and men.

Having abandoned the island Ramaṇaka, you took refuge in this lake / out of fear of whom—that Garuḍa will not devour you, who are marked with my feet."

"'Let him turn the final r into a visarga at the end of a word'— / such is the rule of those skilled in grammar, and that alone is my opinion. / Since you now bear the marks made by my feet, O Kālīya, / therefore, yonder in the other world too, you shall be one whose marks are made by my abode."

Then, having fallen like a rod, the lord of coiled serpents was made free of affliction, his body sprinkled with nectar, as [Kṛṣṇa] placed upon his head his lotus hand, a mine of moonlike fingernails.

Reiterating the words of the venerable Śuka describing the pastimes immediately following this—'He worshipped him...' [BhP 10.16.65] and so forth—it is explained by the words 'And the greatness...':

Joyfully and respectfully the serpent and his wives worshipped him / with divine garments, garlands, and gems, and also with the most precious ornaments, / with celestial fragrant ointments, and with a great garland of blue lotuses.

Having worshipped the Lord of the universe and propitiated him whose banner bears Garuḍa, / delighted, granted permission, circumambulating and bowing to him,

he went to the island of the ocean together with his wife, friends, and sons. / At that very moment the Yamunā became free of poison, its waters turned to nectar.

When they perceived Kṛṣṇa emerging from the lake, wearing divine garlands, scents, and clothes, / covered with multitudes of great gems, adorned with gold, / everyone rose up, as if the life-breaths had regained their life.

"Greatness and preeminence are here referred to as ‘divine’;
and divinity means radiating upon Kṛṣṇa's limbs as well. // 1.13.39
Therefore, these ornaments are eternal, residing in the pool of the Yamunā.
Among them, however, the jewel named Kaustubha shines upon Kṛṣṇa
like the full moon forever among the stars upon the eastern mountain. // 1.13.40
And that he was addressed as ‘Lord of the Universe’ as well as ‘He who bears the emblem of Garuḍa’—
that is not a wonder, nor is it an [unwonted] conduct, for it is renowned in Dvārakā. // 1.13.41
For that son of Kadrū, who holds various divine powers,
his path would be the path of the gods [the sky]—so it is understood by reasoning.
Any other way would cause harm to living beings; how could that be agreeable to Kṛṣṇa? // 1.13.42
When there was consideration of his water-pastimes and the touch of Agharipu,
then the Yamunā became like nectar; so it is understood. // 1.13.43
That Kṛṣṇa had dry clothes was due to his being carried by Kāliya;
that sudden sight occurred because he was surrounded by the ranks of serpents.
Therefore, what is stated beginning with ‘Kṛṣṇa [emerged] from the pool’ is shown to be fitting." // 1.13.44

Now, the distinctiveness of looking upon him is described:
Clamour, haste, paralyzed bodily movement,
trembling, faltering speech, flowing tears,
and a loss of satiety from gazing and the like—the residents of Vraja,
having regained Kṛṣṇa, felt distress even in their joy. // 1.13.45

Solely with the thought, "He has come!"
there was a complete surge of joy for the dwellers of Vraja,
alas, whereby neither body nor mind
obtained the power to perform anything whatsoever! // 1.13.46

And then:
Stiffness in the joints like a binding, goosebumps standing like thick sores,
tears dropping his gaze, a crack in the voice obstructing his throat,
trembling with his teeth chattering as if falling out, sweat melting his body—
as the sight of his friends was thus [beheld], the Lord became distressed. // 1.13.47

Then, those of the same age, who had stood in front from the very beginning, seeing him emerged from the water, their eyes filled with the nectar of his extensive beauty, gradually went to the stage of contact with his body, and having reached a state where waves of bliss rolled in his embrace, they could not individually declare to him: "This is I." // 1.13.48

Just as he did with these, even so the son of illustrious Nanda, with due honour according to their sequence, filled his mother, his father, and the crowd of friends with joy, from which all of them had their bodies immobilized and yet attained bodies of joy. Oh, if those truthful persons had not said it, who would have believed this? For the cows and the deer, searching for his coming, achieved non-difference with the people of Vraja; and even the trees, which had formerly withered from distress on his account, now endowed with plentiful happiness, blossomed with freshly appeared sprouts and foliage. And there:

Whatever friends met the conqueror of the enemies of the gods then,
they all truly experienced incomparable love on every side.
But when the glorious mother immediately met him, overcome with love,
then let alone that talk—all the people reached a state of melting away! // 1.13.49

Then, laughing, bowing, and causing Rāma to embrace him, he remained in his lap for a long time—Rāma who, even while taking delight in the contemplation of his own power, had dried up internally from the sorrow of the people of Vraja, and even being so, had outwardly an expanding smile arising from reproaches laden with acquired gravity.

Then, this was the deliberation of the people there:
"If this attainment of Hari is conceived in a dream,
then this grief also straightway matches it there.
Or if it shines as an event in waking reality, then utterly
our desired end has been accomplished; by no means is our happiness obstructed." // 1.13.50