There once lived a king who really wasn’t supposed to be king. He was very wicked indeed, this king Kans; and he had locked his father, the real king, in a dungeon. Kans ruled over Mathura, a beautiful kingdom overlooking the Yamuna River.
Kans’ sister, a sweet and lovely girl called Devaki, had reached an age that made her ready for marriage (according to her brother). And so Kans arranged a match for Devaki—a young and handsome man called Vasudev, who was wealthy and of good nobility. Now you might think Kans was being very kind to his sister by doing this, but the truth is Kans wanted Vasudev in the family because it would prove beneficial to the court. Kans was a very selfish king.
The wedding took place with a splendid, and rather superficial celebration, and just as Devaki and Vasudev were about to leave for their new home, a wise man came up to Kans and whispered, “Don’t you know that you are doomed to die at the hands of their child? Beware. If I were you, I would not let them go.”
Kans was furious. In a fit of rage, he yanked Devaki out of her wedding carriage, dragged her by her hair, and drew his sword.
Luckily, the chief minister intervened. “Your majesty, is it really wise to kill your sister on her wedding day in full view of the kingdom? Perhaps it would be easier to lock the couple up in prison. We can be rid of their children when they are born. No one will have to know.”
Kans liked that plan better, and so he stopped. Devaki and Vasudev were secretly thrown into prison, where they learned to live happily, and grew very fond of each other.
With time, Kans received news that Devaki had given birth to a baby girl. He went straight to their prison cell, and demanded in a loud and startling voice, “Where is the child?” Before Devaki could answer, Kans picked up the baby and threw it to the ground.
But instead of lying still, the baby suddenly turned into a bolt of lightning that zig-zagged up towards heaven, calling downward:
“Kans, what you have done is evil
But I am not the one you seek.
My brother is yet to be born
And he will bring you to your fate.”
In the same way, six other daughters were born to Devaki, and each repeated the same words after Kans had thrown them to the ground.
It was on the eighth day of the waning moon in August that the child Kans had been waiting for arrived.
It was a dark, dark night—thick black clouds swept across the sky and drum rolls of thunder attacked. In the heart of the monsoon, the rain poured heavily and furiously.
It was on this fate-filled night that Krishna was born to Devaki. As soon as he uttered his first cry, a voice from heaven spoke to Vasudev.
“Take this baby away, far across the Yamuna River to the village of Gokul where your sister lives. Exchange him for your sister’s newborn daughter, and return before dawn. All will be well.”
“But what of the guards, and the locks, and the unforgiving storm?” Vasudev answered.
“Do not fear,” said the voice.
Vasudev wrapped the newborn Krishna tightly in some rags, and found the cell doors open, and the guards fast asleep. As he stepped out onto the cold and wet earth, he faced nothing but darkness.
When they finally came to the banks of the Yamuna River, the monsoon rains seemed angrier than ever. When the lightning flashed, Vasudev could see the huge waves rising higher and higher, and the whirlpools of water circling to endless depths.
But he had no choice. If he was going to save his child, he had to get to Gokul.
And so, without fear, Vasudev put Krishna in a basket, and holding onto it firmly in his arm, waded straight into the threatening river.
But the water seemed even angrier, and kept rising. Vasudev held the basket above his head to protect his baby. But the further Vasudev went, the higher the water rose—higher and higher until it was almost up to his nose.
What Vasudev didn’t understand at the time was that the river was rising because it wished to touch the god Krishna’s feet.
But Krishna knew this, and so the baby lowered his tiny foot so it dangled out of the basket and lightly touched the water. At once the mighty Yamuna receded and parted, making way for Vasudev. As they crossed the river, the water closed behind them.
Reaching Gokul, Vasudev quickly exchanged his son for his newborn niece, and returned to his cell before dawn.
The next morning Kans received news of this eighth child being born, and again came to snatch the baby and kill it. But this time, the baby girl flew straight out of his hands and into the sky.
“Kans, what you have done is evil
But I am not the one you seek.
My brother is born already
And safely tucked away.”
Kans was beyond furious. He screamed at Devaki and Vasudev for deceiving him, and yelled at the gods. “Nobody defies King Kans. I will get the boy. Just you wait!”
Kans issued a royal order to have all the newborn males in the kingdom put to death, and he sat in his palace and laughed triumphantly to himself.
Little did he know that Krishna was not in the kingdom at all. Gokul lay safely across the river, and there, the little god slept peacefully.
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South Asian culture—a myriad of religions, traditions, and legends—has no shortage of fascinating tales. We feature stories you can share with your children; a way to introduce them to a different time, place, and perspective.
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