Gopalacampu 1.34

Now begins the third chapter:

The Departure for the City of Mathurā

[1] Then, in the morning discourse in the assembly of the king of Vraja, in the radiance created by Śrī Kṛṣṇa, Snigdhakaṇṭha said: “O king of Vraja, shining with the splendour of the countenance of radiant Śrī Hari! We shall once again illuminate this history.

[2] Now, when only a tiny fraction of the night remained, and the preparations for departure had their forms arranged with suitable provisions, the panegyrists forcefully recited series of praises connected to the slaying of Pūtanā and other deeds performed by Rāma’s brother, inspiring everyone with pride and enthusiasm. To say nothing of others, His two parents, considering that the destruction of Kaṃsa was already accomplished, became overjoyed and made bountiful distributions of wealth to the bards.

Rohiṇī, having followed the manner of the housewife of the lord of Vraja,
is not described separately here;
for to those who speak, the description of the beauty of a reflection
is included in the description of the original image.

[3] Then, at the auspicious hour for departure when the gathering had begun, while the two rulers of Vraja were overcome with anxious haste to arrange consultations with Him, men skilled in astrology and possessors of the good virtue of interpreting omens assembled at the door and, through pleasant people, made their arrival known to the two.

[4] Then, bringing them inside the inner quarters without delay, with their hands holding vessels filled with gifts suitable to be given at that time, and after administering an oath, the two secretly asked: “By you who perceive everything, what is discerned?”

[5] They said: “Why is this news of utter joy asked in secret? It ought to be placed right in front of everyone! For:

Do not fear, O two sovereigns of Vraja! Your son, having clearly
brought Kaṃsa to destruction, will become the lord of the fortune of the three worlds!
Because of which, the three worlds will perpetually have their faces set dancing by the multitude of your glories,
and the Veda, together with the tantras of the fifth Veda, will bear witness to this!”

Then, having bestowed a great multitude of gifts upon them and holding joy in their hearts, those two whose servants surrounded them, who had performed their morning duties, who were accompanied by their friends, and who were the younger brothers to their deeply fearful elder [brother]—Rāma and Kṛṣṇa, the younger brother of Rāma—approached the gathering, while their parents' feet were contemplated as their refuge under the aspect of Nārāyaṇa's feet.

Having arrived, they bowed to the lotus feet of the two accompanied by Rohiṇī. As the two [sons] stood weeping for a long time from their eyes, graced by resting in their laps, all the intimate relatives came to that inner quarter, one by one and two by two, exceeding hundreds, surging with waves of agitation.

Then, while those two elder and younger brothers, with moist eyes and blossoming lotus-faces, sat in the midst of lamps, auspicious water-pots, and other objects that brought joy, and while all were standing around in contracted deliberation, that Akrūra, who was [now acting] cruelly, sent this message from the outer area: "Why is this astrological moment, endowed with all auspiciousness, not properly turned into the moment of departure?"

Thereupon, Rāma and Kṛṣṇa, foremost among heroes, who had acquired a thirst for slaying Kaṃsa, spoke sweetly to dispel the grief of their parents and others who were standing motionless like painted pictures in order to pay homage to their feet and bring them joy. When, with floods of choking words, having received their permission accompanied by blessings, they were seen setting forth their lotus feet to depart from that place to bestow their grace, then, equalizing with the fine swarms of bees [representing] their [family's] affection, the music of celestial double-drums sounded forth in a crowd, worthy of salute by everyone.

And thus they compose a verse addressing Śrī Kṛṣṇa:

When Kṛṣṇa set out on his journey from his own house to destroy Kaṃsa, / then from the very beginning hundreds of kettle-drums were sounded by the gods. / Let alone anyone else, even that father and that mother, though their spirits were exhausted with anxiety, / attained joy, the root of all auspicious delight.

Then, when the two arrived at the chariot station, which nourished auspiciousness with the reverberation of many Vedas and other sounds, all Gokula became agitated on every side. And there, while on one side stood the king of Vraja and others, and on the other stood their wives and others, the lotus-eyed one folded his hands all around to ask permission for departure; but everyone said: "Since you have made all of us forget everything, all of us must go along with you alone! Because:

O slayer of Baka! This mother of yours is like a bellows, whose breaths are entirely under your control; / that father is just the same, and what more: all Gokula is like that. / Since you dwell forever in everyone's inner heart, then without you / what would houses, wealth, bodies, or even the vital breaths be to the living beings of Gokula?"

When the cowherd members of the assembly were thus checked by floods of tears, the lotus-eyed one spoke himself with such a glance:

"You are my friends dearer even than life; for your sake / I regarded the forest fire as if it were a refreshing drink, and that best of mountains as if a mere toy ball. / Although it is not proper to put this into words, nevertheless, seeing your distress, / I speak now in the very same way as I acted before.

Moreover, acting as representatives of our venerable father to manage each and every counter-measure, let the pair of his elder brothers remain right in Vraja; but as his own limbs and appendages, let the pair of his younger brothers indeed accompany us."

Then, when they were diligently assigned to their respective posts, the description of how the bidding of farewell was concluded among the mothers, their sisters-in-law, and the multitude of father's brothers' sons and his own brothers loses its words and syllables [out of overwhelmed emotion]; enough with excess detail.

However, for them there was no doubt regarding the killing of Kaṃsa and the return without much delay; grief at this alone pierced to the very core. Having concluded the story, Snigdhakaṇṭha said again:

"Let this ancient event, which happened in the past, be understood by me [recounted]: / O king, this slayer of Muru, the destroyer of the enemies of the gods, is here in your lap!"

Having thus heard what was charming in the future, and seeing him embraced by the king of Vraja with their bodies moistened by each other's tears, everyone went to their respective destinations with pride in their joy. Then the queen of Vraja, having summoned him through her intimate attendants, embraced him again and again, making him feel as if newly gained.

Now, when the evening narration had begun to unfold, Snigdhakaṇṭha said before Śrī Rādhā and Mādhava: "Ah, O supreme Śrī Rādhikā, whose eye-wagtails dance to Kṛṣṇa's splendour, you who are constantly united with him! Let this past tale once again reach your ears. Or rather, how can I narrate the story of his beloveds when the young prince of Vraja, accompanied by his company, set out on the chariot's path—a matter that surpasses the range of my mind?

For thus it is said:

'Stupidity, pitilessness, the abduction of Hari here, cruelty under the name of Akrūra, / loss of everyone's wits, and the reckoning of good omens for such a deed— / alas, see the creator's doing!'—the condition born of confusion in these steady women, / whose words were perpetually broken as they joined the elder ladies, severely burns me! //

'The creator is not to blame, for he is a stranger; likewise is he who bears the name Akrūra; / but this lord of our lives, Nanda's son, who causes separation from himself, is the one to be blamed!' / By such laments from those gentle women—laments that scorched the hearts of messengers— / remembered even today, our mind's state burns at every step. //

'Alas! Since they praised the good fortune of the women of Madhupura in seeing Kṛṣṇa in the future, / I suspect that they too wished to go there! / And when I think again and again of the longing of these gentle women, / who felt an overwhelming shame even when gazing upon their own limbs in secret, I am tormented. //

While they placed little belief in Śrī Hari's departure for Madhupura, / the talk of his boarding the chariot fell upon their heads like the stroke of thunderbolts. / Because of this, the assembly of the lord of Vraja was loudly reviled by them, who were in such a state— / alas, even today this profusion of sorrow agitates my heart! //

'Come, dear companions! Let millions of us approach here and encircle the lord of our lives / with love! What indeed will the elders do to us?' / As they rushed toward him in this way—gentle in conduct, yet full of intense emotion— / the fact that others pushed them away strikes violently at my very life here! //

'Alas, alas! That rāsa assembly with its perpetual play, radiant with ever-new meetings, / that splendid sprout born of the gathering of wish-fulfilling creepers of his divine play—where has it gone? / Fie, alas! The assembly of cowherds, initiated by that king of cheats named Akrūra, / has become the destroyer of it all!' Their cries—'Why has it happened?'—burn me! //

'Let be that charming series of pastimes such as the rāsa! Alas, at day's end and at night's end too, / the playful Kṛṣṇacandra, accompanied by his elder brother and throng of friends, would roam with the cows / and thoroughly nourish us with the playful charm of his sidelong glances— / where are the cowherds taking him away so swiftly?' Such words of the gopīs pierce me! //

This being so:

Although Rādhā fainted, her beloved nonetheless / shone within her heart, all around her, just as he mounted the chariot; / and though he withdrew his gaze from her, fearing his own agitation, / she nonetheless, alas, pervaded his sight in every direction! //

When they wept in that assembly, crying, / 'O Govinda! O Dāmodara! O Mādhava!'— / as I remember that even today, this mind of mine, / falling into sorrow, has no desire to sustain life! //

Thus, alas, to those fine-toothed maidens / who were weeping, that charioteer, wounding the vulnerable, / Akrūra of cruel mind, / carried Hari far away to the city by the Yamunā. //

Kṛṣṇa, the company of his elders, the chariot following behind, the lines of its banners, and the rising / columns of dust—being watched in succession without blinking; / hopeless of his return, the throng of young women of Vraja would have given up their lives, / had he not previously confirmed his return with letters promising to come back. //

Though he knew his return would be delayed, / as foretold by the divine sage, / nonetheless, toward her whose thirst encircled him, / Kṛṣṇa did not fail to show respect. //

There, letters were repeatedly written between him and them, with the red hue of saffron mixed with perspiration and with collyrium washed with tears, carried back and forth by Madhumaṅgala as messenger, as follows:

'I shall return quickly after slaying Kaṃsa in Madhupura. Is that city far / from the land where calves and other demons were struck down? Then where is the cause for sorrow, O beloveds? / Rather, grant whatever else you desired that is proper, out of your gracious favour; / O rulers of my life, what else should you consider within me, your very life?' //

'Departing today, O beloved, you appear set on slaying Kaṃsa / and accepting kingship; how, then, could your return to Vraja come to pass? / Therefore, this is what we ask of you: there, in that splendid sacred place that grants all goals, / may you offer three handfuls of water remembering us!' //

'No desire for kingship arises in me, who am unattached to it; truly, / after slaying Kaṃsa and increasing the joy of the Yadus, I am as good as returned! / If a blackbuck should suddenly be captured by the power of fate, does honor from kings / and the like bring it joy? Neither the forest nor the fine company of its beloved can be replaced!' //

'There is an array of various pleasure groves all around there, and many blessed daughters of kings, / charming maidens, will become yours through your royal power; / when you obtain them, how will your mind turn back to us? Does one who has attained / diverse pleasures through austerities ever desire forest-dwelling ways again?' //

It is true that those pleasure-gardens fulfil every desire; it is very true / that daughters of kings and others appear, worthy of praise for their supreme virtues; / but truly I declare that the three worlds bring me no delight, nor the beautiful women who dwell there, / just as Vṛndāvana does to me, and you who are the goddesses of fortune following upon it. ||

Ah, by that very eye by which that beauty of all your limbs was attained, / by that ear by which the flute was heard, and by that body by which the splendor of touch was enjoyed— / by that very eye your distant departure was seen, by that ear the cruel message was perceived, / and by that body its own betrayal was suffered: alas, shame on this life, shame on destiny! ||

This sight of mine which is drawn away by gazing at your splendor, this hearing which is made distant from speech, / and this body which burns with longing from [mere thought of] union— / if these were not subject to me in producing a remedy in each case, / then how, alas, could I endure these willful ones, O friends of my life? ||

In this state wherein Akrūra has swiftly become cruel, destiny has become ill fortune, / and a friend has assumed the conduct of an enemy, what word can there be of anyone else? / Even our life would certainly attain a lifeless state here; / O Master, let not a remedy arise, as for a disease, only after a delay as long as an aeon! ||

‘I shall certainly return quickly; indeed, there is no other matter in my mind. / Even if some [matter] should arise by fate, even so I would never abandon you who are helpless. / Do not suspect each reunion with me that will occur repeatedly here in the meantime to be in the form of a dream, / as you used to suspect previously when there was no separation!’ ||

Such was the measure of verbal consolation Hari gave to the others; / but for Rādhā, it produced an immeasurable spine of silence. ||

Then, brought to the dawn by their companions, / the maidens, having forcibly accepted that arrival / made certain through hundreds of his past habits, / sang repeatedly of it as they fashioned it [in their minds]. ||

[22] Then, as the assembly of Śrī Rādhikā and the others grew distressed in mind following this narration by Snigdhakaṇṭha, the lotus-eyed one, deeply agitated, spoke himself:

‘O Rādhā, do not place your absorption in your ear, but rather in your eyes. / Alas, you consider what is past to be real, and do not see the present!’ ||

[23] Hearing this and beholding his charming face, the blue-lotus-eyed maiden, her distress subsiding and full of modesty, serving his pair of lotus feet with her head, bathed them for a long time with drops of cool eye-water streaming at that moment.

[24] Then, as the abundance of bliss was fully poured out for all, everyone went to their respective abodes as if obtaining a festival. And Śrī Rādhā and Mādhava entered their charming palace.

Thus ends the third chapter, named ‘Departure for the Abode of the City of Mathurā,’ in the venerable Uttaragopālacampū. ||3

Now begins the fifth chapter.

The Story of the Slaying of Kaṃsa.

[1] Now, in the assembly of the king of Vraja illuminated by Śrī Kṛṣṇa, the morning conversation resumed, as follows:

[2] Snigdhakaṇṭha said: Then the night passed. And when that night had fully ended—which, howling with many jackals, had become auspicious toward Śrī Kṛṣṇa and clearly inauspicious toward Kaṃsa; when that night, which had generated great fear in his dreams and waking states, was spent—that arrogant man once more grandly prepared the profound commencement of the wrestling spectacle. Then, the arena situated in the very middle of the multitude of adorned and unadorned white tiers of platforms shone, gleaming with marvelous decorations, like the sky studded with stars amidst autumnal clouds radiant with lightning.

[3] Even there, occupying the highest platform, Kaṃsa sat himself as the crowning ornament of all the wicked kings. Yet, although it arose from his being seized with the pride of supreme kingship, it ended only in terror. And there:

Because on his own platform he placed Akrūra and Ānakadundubhi at the edges, / and the daughter of Devaka far away among the citizens' wives, and Nanda and the others [far away]; / and furthermore, because at the gate he placed the elephant Kuvalayāpīḍa and before himself / the wrestlers by deceit—who would not be agitated by that Bhoja king? ||

And there:

The music that was played by Kaṃsa's command, suited to the wrestling contest, / became the very auspicious sound marking the departure of Rāma and Kṛṣṇa. ||

[4] Then, in order to show that nothing held them back, the two did not come themselves at first, but sent ahead the elders among the cowherds; and having completed their morning duties, when their entry into the area of the gate of the arena-city took place, everyone realized it simply from the clamor of the people.

[5] And then, to crush Kuvalayāpīḍa—who was always furious, intoxicated with rut, with temples dripping [rut-fluid], and who put to shame those trying to discern whether he was a mountain or an elephant—the crusher of the foes of the gods, tightening his garment and top-knot, followed by the host of his elder brother and friends, himself took the lead.

While his affectionate well-wishers there restrained him with words, and likewise his enemies [shouted in defiance], / Hari, looking upon both with a mere smile, approached the elephant. ||

[6] And then, by Śrī Hari:

Asking for the path, tormenting that enraged elephant, repeatedly dodging his trunk, tusks, and feet / with his own body and freeing himself therefrom, / pulling its tail, whirling it around, facing it and striking it, / running swiftly and falling suddenly, and after that swift motion, throwing it down by whirling it about— ||

Eluding its two tusks, agitating it by spinning around as it struck the earth, / and then approaching, throwing it down upon the surface of the ground by grasping its trunk, / mounting its body, shattering each of its tusks, and slaying it with that tusk— / [all this] brought the spectators to plunging and resurfacing like the waves of an ocean.

When the slaughter of the elephant is recounted, speaking of the elephant-keepers is pointless. / When a wrestler is crushed, what need is there to speak of the lice on his body?

And at that time, there was this distinction:

"Prowling around, he is an actor; destroying, he is a lion; / cleaving, he is the thunderbolt itself"—thus was Hari perceived by the elephant.

Having slain the elephant and taken its pair of tusks, / the enemy of Kaṃsa gave one of them to his brother, / as if saying: "May the fame that one [of us] produces be happily shared by both of us on all sides!"

Hari caused the elephant to be killed, and Balarāma too was covered with droplets of blood and rut-fluid, / because at that time he wandered near him like a shadow, / acting as his attendant companion.

Thus, even the gods—fearing the roar of [Kuvalayāpīḍa's] trumpeting, and for that very reason truly sleepless (asvapna), just as their name signifies—saw that this elephant, Kuvalayāpīḍa, though superior with his flow of rut-fluid (dāna-vāri), had met his end through their water of liberality (dāna-vāri), and became like painted figures (lekhā) in astonishment. And since this occurred, no one, out of fear, quickly told Kaṃsa.

And after that:

Their radiance adorned with the king's garments plundered earlier in the day,
with the tusks of the great elephant newly slain in their hands,
with armlets and bracelets fashioned from its blood and ichor,
the two entered before the king with companions of like spirit. ||

Prowess alone is the ornament of a man,
in which even what is repellent attains praiseworthiness;
the drops of the elephant's blood and rut-fluid
beautified their forms in Kaṃsa's assembly. ||

His foes then beheld the invincible one before them as possessing a terrifying form;
the indifferent saw him as impartial; those whose hearts were full of love saw him as bliss personified;
and there they clearly perceived many distinct variations in that very regard:
just as one's inner disposition is, precisely so does he abundantly manifest at once. ||

Or how far can his supreme sweetness be described here,
which was venerated by hundreds of thousands of people in the assembly, even while Kaṃsa was alive?
Or what measure of splendor from him can be spoken of, immersed in which
the gods regarded the king of the Bhojas, though still breathing, as if dead? ||

Then, having arrived holding the elephant tusks like elephants holding lotus stalks with their trunks, their broad chests swelling, having glanced at Kaṃsa with a disdainful remark, "Is this he?", the two of praiseworthy deeds turned their backs on him and cast their glances this way and that.

Then, turning around, Śrī Hari looked again, thinking, "Aha, this fellow is merely following half the path of heaven; therefore, sending him there is not settling him very far away," laughed, took delight together with all his companions, and exchanged words with one another about another matter.

Then, upon merely beholding their bodies—which, red with the blood of the elephant they had slain, were worthy of resembling the dark and red form of Śiva revealed at the time of universal dissolution—Kaṃsa, whose brilliance was destroyed, said, "Who are these two?" The attendants beside him replied, "These two are indeed they."

Kaṃsa said: "What is seen in their hands? Or by whom have their bodies been turned into vessels of wonder?"

They all said: "They appear to be the tusks of Kuvalayāpīḍa, and their bodies must be stained with its blood."

Kaṃsa said with agitated deceit: "O you! Beset with faults, both these things, becoming mere words of the mouth, are impossible!"

Then, when they gave no further reply and were overcome with fear, the majesty of the two boys made him understand of itself. For:

"O Kaṃsa, if you are strong yourself, then fie on this:
why do you keep an elephant at the gate, and not your own body there?
If he is superior because of his two tusks, then why do you not take them
as we two have done?"—was this not echoed by those two by their own art? ||

This being so:

"This is he who slew Pūtanā; he overturned the cart; he shattered the whirlwind demon;
he brought low the pair of arjuna trees"—remembering such divine play of his in glorious Gokula,
the people who saw it then tormented those [demons], and today, behold, O listeners, it torments others who merely hear of it! ||

And there, the crowd of gods and men longed, as it were, to drink all their beauty at once by widening both eyes; to lick all their sweetness by moving the tongue of relish for descriptions; to draw inside all their fragrance through expanded nostrils swollen with pride at obtaining them; and repeatedly to embrace their limbs, complete in all parts, by pointing with both hands; and while they partook of joy, and the crowd of various instruments sounded, praise that grants all happiness found its beginning on the lips of all.

This special majesty of his shone forth, constantly transcending all conception, wherein the wrestlers, urged beforehand by Kaṃsa to fight, though speaking contrarily, ended only in offering praise.

To explain: Such being the situation, the one of cruel nature named Cāṇūra spoke, wherein—even though the two vocatives, "O son of Nanda! O Rāma!", without and with the father's name spoken with disrespect, were set forth to convey an adverse meaning—the goddess of speech caused his organ of speech to dance solely for the sake of praise: "O you who are equal manifestations through the two boys of virtuous conduct and proper manners, designated by their father's name and their own name! Listen!"

Śrī Kṛṣṇa said with a smile: "Please command at will."

Cāṇūra said: "How much good fortune should be lodged in the minds of you two?"

Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "Of what kind?"

Cāṇūra said: "These feet of the great king are shining, having undertaken a desire to see you full of grace."

Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "True; instruct us further regarding our duty."

Cāṇūra said: "What you have promised is indeed fitting; nonetheless, your turning away from here at all times does not please us."

Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "We are forest-dwelling men; we do not understand the conduct of those who are counted among kings. But now, following only your instruction, we will act in a manner appropriate to this place."

Cāṇūra said: "Now let that be performed which the venerable feet of the best of kings command concerning you two."

Śrī Kṛṣṇa, as if with modesty, said: "O best of wrestlers! Let it be commanded appropriately."

[30] Cāṇūra said: "Now may both of You be here enjoying the pleasure of wrestling with us!"

[31] Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "Watching the play of us boys brings pleasure only to kings, but doing so with you can only be deemed regrettable. Therefore, this display of mockery belongs solely to you; it is not fitting for your highness, whose master is the king."

[32] Cāṇūra said: "I swear by the king's very feet! This is indeed the king's command."

[33] Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "How so?"

[34] Cāṇūra said:

"You were not a boy, surely, because of your slaying of Pūtanā and the rest, nor could you be regarded / as a boy of the paugaṇḍa age while occupied in a multitude of deeds beginning with holding up the mountain; / nor do You fit into youth, since, like the visible cosmic guardian-elephant, / the king experienced curiosity from Your completing the killing and distressing of the elephant Kuvalayāpīḍa. ||

[35] And this elder brother of Yours is most senior indeed through the deed of destroying Pralamba and the others."

[36] Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "Their downfall occurred solely out of that sin of vain hatred toward us. And the mountain itself rose up in that manner, having received a festival sacrifice, in order to humble the pride of Indra who holds the thunderbolt. As for ourselves, we always act just as ordinary boys. Even the bow, being ancient and rotten long ago as if eaten by wood-boring insects, was already cracked by those carrying it scattered from afar, and broke into pieces at a mere touch. And Kuvalayāpīḍa, running to crush me, could not catch me as I ran away; plunging both his tusks deeply into the earth at once, he was unable to drag them out; instead, while being forced, his tusks broke at the tips, and he thus severed his own life-breaths. On each of these occasions, people whose gaze was confused by haste simply made me out to be the cause. Likewise, the elephant-keepers fell into disaster when they were crushed beneath that very elephant. Do not think otherwise!"

[37] Cāṇūra said: "Shrinking back in mind, You conceal this improperly. His majesty the king felt no regret on those occasions; on the contrary, desiring to replace those haughty ones who had long been kept near him and sent there only to curb their pride—their special maintenance having been wasted in vain—he wishes to engage only both of You for his own army."

[38] Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "That is our exceedingly wonderful good fortune! Yet we are embarrassed to praise ourselves with our own lips. We will gladly render service to bring this great king even to the position of Indra; nonetheless, our minds shrink back, as we are not trained in the art of wrestling."

[39] Cāṇūra said: "Do not make this denial in vain either. For this is widely known and heard: cowherds, while tending cows, continually practice our art. Therefore, without deceit, both you and we must obey the king's command, not overturn it."

[40] Śrī Kṛṣṇa said: "Even so, we forest-dwellers do not possess that praiseworthy skill; nevertheless, now following your instruction, we shall present ourselves to make our submission to the king."

[41] Then, having drawn out this conversation to this point, planting the two elephant tusks before Kaṃsa like stakes straight into his heart, the one who struck down Pralamba with a fist-blow engaged with Muṣṭika, and He whose vehicle is the younger brother of the thighless Aruna engaged with Cāṇūra, just like a newly manifested divine lion engaging a great elephant renowned for its strength. And there—

Hand to hand, arm to arm, their anger flared up as they extended foot to foot, / striking knee against knee and waist against waist; / fist against fist, palm against palm: as for whatever other combat occurred before / between Hari and the wrestler, how much can be comprehended of that manifold fight? ||