KRISHNA CORIOLIS#5: Rage of Jarasandha Page 2

  Kamsa made begging and pleading sounds but they were of no avail. Finally, seeing that he could negotiate no further advantage, he snarled. ‘RELEASE ME, THEN. BUT KNOW THIS BEFORE I DIE. YOUR REAL STRUGGLE ON EARTH HAS NOT EVEN BEGUN YET, VISHNU. YOU HAVE FAR MORE SUFFERING TO ENDURE AND FAR GREATER BATTLES AND STRUGGLES TO OVERCOME BEFORE YOU ACCOMPLISH YOUR TASK IN THIS INCARNATION. THIS IS NOT THE END, IT IS ONLY THE BEGINNING.’

  Krishna said sadly, ‘This too I know.’

  And then he released Kamsa, letting the giant fall.

  He took several moments, during which time all the watching tens of thousands held their breath. Krishna had been careful to carry Kamsa’s gargantuan form farther north of the city, to the wastelands where nobody resided, the sprawling wadis and ravines of uninhabited desolation where Kamsa had once come to practice the use of his newfound abilities. Where he had pounded his fists and body time and again on rocks and boulders, testing his new shakti, taking pride in it. Where he had killed animals just to vent his rage or fury.

  He fell into that wasteland. And the earth itself seemed to harden to receive him. As if Bhoodevi, Mother Prithvi, whatever you choose to call her, suffering for so long under the cruel yoke of Kamsa’s tyranny, resolved that this time, she would be harder than Kamsa’s dense muscled body and sinew and bone. And so, as the giant Kamsa struck the ground, his body was shattered into a thousand pieces, fragmented and fragmented again, until even the smallest fragment broke apart into dust.

  A wind rose from nowhere and carried this dust away into oblivion.

  And across Mathura, a million liberated souls cheered. And only one word was on their lips.

  ‘KRISHNA!’

  2

  RADHA yelled and yipped with joy. She jumped up and down, arms raised, turning round and round. All across the playing field, thousands were showing their joy in much the same way. In the Vrishni enclosure, she could see and hear all the other gopis shrieking themselves hoarse. Across the city, the roars and cheers were deafening. It was as if the entire world were rejoicing and exulting in Krishna’s triumph. For it was everyone’s triumph. Krishna had slain the Childslayer, the prophecy had been fulfilled at last. But it was they who had been set free of the tyrant’s yoke.

  She saw that even Kamsa’s own soldiers were hammering their weapons against their shields and raising their voices. The only exceptions were the other fighters on Kamsa’s side. These poor fellows, Radha saw, were quickly making their exit, scurrying away faster than stray dogs from a wild elephant.

  And Krishna was no less than an elephant today. Magnificent in his youth and dark beauty, he stood on the akhada field, arms on his hips, grinning happily at the crowd. He had landed only moments ago, returning from the North where he had carried Kamsa high up in the air and dropped him to his death. Even from the sound and bone-shuddering impact felt all the way here, Radha knew that Kamsa’s body was surely broken into fragments from such a terrible fall. The instant Krishna had returned, flying lithely back to the akhada field, the cheering and shouting had erupted. Now he simply stood there, basking in the adulation and approbation, with that familiar mischievous smile on his handsome face.

  Not far away stood the hefty Balarama, displaying the twin to Krishna’s smile. Radha stopped jumping and began running barefoot across the dusty ground. She was going to leap at Krishna, hug him more tightly than he had ever been hugged before in his life…well, in this lifetime at least…and never let go!

  But even as she began to run across the field, a strange thing happened.

  The world went dark.

  One moment, there was bright sunlight shining down from a clear blue sky with only a few wisps of cloud here and there, the next instant it was dark as a stormy night. Yet it was like no night Radha had ever seen before: the sun was still in the sky, as were the wisps of cloud here and there, birds were still flying though they seemed agitated by the sudden change. It was as if a veil had fallen across creation. The sun’s had light had not dimmed. It still burned as brightly as ever but now it exuded deep midnight blue light instead of its normal luminescence. The sky had been dyed a darker shade of the same color. Not only that, the very air seemed to have turned darker, bluer. It was as if someone had dipped a cloth into a pool of clear water and the water had been stained deep blue and Radha and everyone else was immersed in this inky blue water. A distinctive deep midnight blue.

  Almost the same shade as Krishna’s own skin when the moonlight falls upon it.

  The thought came to her unbidden along with a memory of Krishna bathing in a moonlight stream not long ago, as she had watched from a tree, shyly. She had seen Balarama and he setting out one night by chance and had followed curiously. As it turned out, they hadn’t been up to very much; just a midnight swim in the nearby stream. But she had watched as avidly as if he had been battling Kaliya again! And as she watched, embarrassed to be spying yet unable to look away, she had noticed this phenomenon. His skin, pitch black in daylight, had appeared almost bluish in the moonlight. Almost as if deep blue light exuded from the pores, glowing. Then she had looked around and see the blue light staining the undersides of leaves on the tree hanging over the stream and the bank and rocks and realized that it was no trick of the light. Krishna was exuding deep blue light. A kind of energy that flowed from his very essence and spread outwards. The blue light of brahman.

  The next day she had visited the same spot and found that as best as she could make out, every leaf, rock, tree, and insect that had been touched by the light exhibited vigor and life, in stark contrast to all around it. Even the rocks appeared beautiful somehow, smooth, polished, gleaming. The implication was clear: Krishna’s brahman shakti could empower everything around him, living or inanimate.

  Now, it was as if Krishna’s body had exploded, engulfing the whole world with his brahman light. Yet, he was not the source of the light itself. It appeared to be omnipresent. Suffusing the whole of creation.

  The roar of the crowd had died out as everyone looked around, bemused and a little unnerved by this strange phenomenon.

  Radha had slowed but now she continued running towards her beloved Krishna, picking up pace as she approached the spot where he still stood.

  Krishna was still standing exactly where he had been a moment ago.

  But he no longer had his hands on his hips or a grin on his face.

  Instead, he was peering upwards, looking as puzzled as anyone else.

  Radha could hear whispers around her from the enclosures to either side as people began talking, wondering aloud what this meant. Was this some new attack by an unknown force? Was it a natural phenomenon—or an unnatural one? Or was it Krishna’s doing?

  She already knew it wasn’t her beloved Achyuta’s work. He wouldn’t look so surprised had he done this himself.

  She covered the last several dozen yards to where he stood and slowed.

  He turned to glance towards her. ‘Radhey, you should not be here,’ he said sharply. ‘Go back.’

  ‘What is it, Krishna? What does this blue light mean?’

  He looked around, frowning. In this odd light, he almost vanished when seen against the backdrop of the sky, so perfectly did his own skin color match the peculiar light itself. It was only by dint of his movement and the flash of his eyes and teeth in his face that she could make out his expressions and actions. ‘Go back, Radha. There may be danger—’

  He stopped and she heard a sharp intake of breath.

  ‘What is it, my love?’ she asked, not even aware she was referring to him with that term of endearment, so naturally did her heart turn to such motifs and feelings. ‘What do you see?’

  ‘I sense…’ he said slowly, in a tone she had never heard him use before. ‘Someone…or something…is coming.’

  Then, before she could ask another question or say another word, a great hole ripped open in the fabric of the air above them and something came through with a deafening explosion of light and sound.

  3


  KRISHNA felt as if a hole had opened in his own chest and something had torn its way out. In a sense, this was true because as god incarnate, he contained all creation within himself. Not literally within himself in this mortal body but in his divine form. This, however, felt as if his very frail mortal body were bursting open, releasing the object that came tearing now into existence. But when the thing came, it emerged not from his chest, but from a rip in the fabric of existence itself. Like a slit cut into the empty air, about ten yards above ground and another one score yards from where he stood. The slit appeared white against the deep midnight blue light of brahman that suffused the world, and when it widened, the light within was pure whiteness, brilliance so overpowering, mortal eyes could not look directly at it. A sun at its youth, powerful enough to blind mortal eyes that even glanced once at it, could hardly be brighter. Yet the light did not blind anyone, it simply forced all those present and within sight to shut their eyes or turn away. Only Krishna, by dint of his superhuman nature, was able to adjust in a moment, and merely by blinking and willing himself, possess the ability to stare directly at the slit.

  The slit in the fabric of time and space was perhaps three yards high. It opened like an ordinary slit in an ordinary cloth curtain, widest at its center, oval in overall appearance. Just large enough for a man to step through. Not a mortal man, of course, but a fellow immortal being.

  Right enough, a man came through. The bright light behind him made it impossible to see where he came from. And so sharply did the bright backlight throw his frontal body and features into relief, it was impossible to see his face clearly. This lent him a sinister aspect. Yet the man himself was not sinister: he was known to Krishna.

  How Krishna could know this without actually recognizing the man or being able to see his features was a matter that had to be credited to his divinity. All he could say was he knew this man.

  He was one of the saptarishis, the seven great seer-mages ordained at the beginning of Creation.

  His name was Narada.

  He looked down at Krishna and took a step or two forward before halting.

  He was standing on thin air yet appeared to be as solid-footed as if he were standing on the same akhada field.

  Krishna.

  Krishna looked up, trying to see the face of the being that stood above him. ‘Narada-muni?’

  I do not have much time. I must speak swiftly. I beg your indulgence, Lord. Permit me to speak my piece.

  Krishna shrugged. ‘Very well. Say what you must.’

  Balarama came striding closer. Krishna raised a hand to assure him that all was well. Balarama slowed but stood with his arms akimbo, leaning forward slightly, head lowered. It was the stance of a predator ready to attack. Krishna knew that Balarama recognized Brahmarishi Narada just as he did. It was just that Balarama less trusting than he. Perhaps that was not such a bad thing after all. What Krishna lacked, Balarama compensated. Right now, for instance, who knew what this being’s true motive or agenda might be? Krishna listened with an open mind and a closed fist. The mind was his own, the fist Balarama.

  It was originally thought that you were to take this rebirth in order to slay the Childslayer Kamsa.

  ‘So I thought as well,’ Krishna admitted.

  However, circumstances have arisen that require you to stay in this mortal form longer than intended.

  Krishna frowned. ‘How much longer?’

  The being standing upon thin air, barely more than a silhouette against the bright light streaming from the oval slit, seemed to hesitate.

  I cannot say at the present time.

  That was an odd diplomatic answer. Did ‘cannot say’ mean ‘will not’ or ‘do not wish to’ or ‘do not know’? Then again, Narada was a brahmin and brahmins could speak in the most evasively dogmatic responses at times.

  ‘Very well,’ Krishna said. ‘Then I shall stay here.’ He was not disappointed. After all, even a whole lifetime in mortal years was but a blink of a deva’s eye. Besides, he had only now reached a point where he might be able to pursue his feelings for Radha to the next stage.

  However, there are conditions, my Lord.

  Krishna frowned. ‘Conditions? Laid by whom?’

  By circumstances.

  Ah, that old mainstay of political diplomacy. Circumstances. Of course, what would diplomats and politicians do without circumstances to justify their actions or words?

  ‘I see. What are these conditions?’

  Balarama raised a hand. ‘Krishna, I do not like this. Something is amiss. Let me—’

  The being suspended in mid air paused and looked back over his shoulder before turning back to face them. There was a moment when his face was turned fully back towards the brilliant white light from the slit in the air. At that instant, Krishna ought to have been able to see his features clearly. Yet he could not. The man’s face was as much a cypher. That was odd indeed. It meant that the man’s features weren’t hard to see because of the odd light. They were shielded from view deliberately, by use of brahman shakti. Why? And how? Who would use brahman shakti against a god incarnate? And why would Narada do so? Unless he was not Narada? Yet everything Krishna saw, heard and sensed told him this was Narada. In which case, the shielding did not make any sense at all. Also, it was considered rude, even arrogant of anyone to stand above a deva, looking down on one as it were. Even if Narada-muni had been unable to control where he appeared, it was still highly irregular to be speaking thus to his ultimate lord and master.

  Narada’s next words mitigated this offense to some extent.

  I do not have much time. If he finds me here… I am not supposed to speak to you thus, Lord. Forgive my haste and lack of proper protocol. I beg your indulgence to permit me to finish quickly before I am discovered.

  Krishna frowned again, this time more concerned. ‘Discovered by whom? Who do you fear will see you speaking to me, Narada-muni? When I am here, you need fear no one. But you already know this well. No deva would dare to assault or harm you, least of all in my presence.’

  The being that was Narada-muni shook his head vehemently. It is not a deva I fear. It is… He gestured. Time is short. Allow me to finish. I was saying that you must stay longer in this lifetime and to do so, you must ensure that nobody knows that you are swayam bhagwan.

  ‘What?’ Balarama sputtered, taking two steps forward and raising his clenched fist. ‘That’s absurd. It was another matter in the last lifetime. There we were reincarnated as Rama and Lakshman and their two brothers. Mortals subject to mortal limitations. It was of the essence that nobody know our true identity in order for us to fulfill our mission. For due to the boon granted by Brahma, Ravana could only be slain by a mortal. Therefore, it made sense that not even our avatars in that incarnation could know that we were Vishnu reborn. But in this lifetime, we are Vishnu incarnate. God himself. Swayam bhagwan, as you yourself just said. Our mission now is to root out the last of the adharma that remained on earth after the death of our Rama Chandra and Lakshman avatars. It is to our advantage to be seen and known as swayam bhagwan, to shine the torchlight of dharma in the darkest corners of the mortal realm and root out the evil of adharma, whatever form it may take. How can we do that if we disguise our true nature?’

  Nevertheless, certain circumstances make it vital that you do so. You must continue to live out your lives now as mortals, albeit mortals possessed of extraordinary gifts and skills. Only at certain vital moments can you reveal your true divine nature. And then only for a brief moment. Thereafter, once you have exposed your true self to those on the mortal realm, you must erase all knowledge of your divinity from their minds. You must do this each and every time you use your powers.

  ‘So even our own families and loved ones cannot know our true nature?’ Krishna asked. ‘This will put great stress upon our relationships. We are what we are. How can we hide our true natures from those we love and still remain as close? All trust is based on honesty.’

  What you say is true but n
evertheless these are the conditions of your continued existence on the mortal realm. The mortals you interact with, be they loved ones or strangers, may be granted knowledge that you are God incarnate when it is unavoidable, for instance during times of combat, but after that event is over, you must erase their memories of that knowledge. They cannot carry that awareness in their minds, nor can they be permitted to speak of it freely.

  ‘But why?’ Balarama asked and this time, he spoke Krishna’s mind as well.

  The why and wherefore would take time to explain and time is the one thing I do not have, my Lords. Now, I must take your leave. Remember my words and abide by them. Or all your work upon the earthly realm in this lifetime will be for naught. Jai Shri Hari Hari. Narayana Narayana!