The stench
of the dungeon cells mixed with the scent of a fresh birth. After 6 years, Vasudeva had grown used to the smell of the dungeon, but the new
combination once again reminded him the feeling of disgust. His wife, Devaki,
was far too exhausted to notice.
Vasudeva’s
newborn son laid peacefully in his father’s arms. Seven sons had cried at
birth, but the eighth son slept quietly. It only took one look at the boy to
know he was divine in nature; Vishnu had kept his promise and lived now inside
the eighth son.
With any
other son, Vasudeva would be happy, but the prophecy was clear. This child
would be the one to kill Kansa, the demon king, and Kansa wasn’t too pleased
about that. Kansa threw Vasudeva and Devaki into his dungeon and pledged to
keep them there until their eighth son was born. Furthermore, he pledged to
kill that son, and although the dungeon guards dare not wake their wrathful
king at this late hour of the night, they would alert him come morning, and the
boy would be taken. Vasudeva eyed the dungeon guards suspiciously, and they
licked their lips at the sight of the boy they had so anxiously awaited to be
born. No, at the birth of his eighth son, Vasudeva was not happy.
Devaki,
having finished the daunting task of birthing a god, fell fast asleep on the
rocky dungeon floor. “Your boy is beautiful.” The voice came from the further
reaches of the darkness of the dungeon. Vasudeva stepped back, for no one else
had been put in this cell for years. Yet the voice sounded both calm and
sincere. “What is his name?”
Vasudeva
stared into the blackness but could see nothing. “Who’s there?” Moments passed
with no response, and Vasudeva finally answered the stranger’s question. “His
name is Krishna.”
An ancient
man stepped into the torchlight. His beard stretched past his waist and was
whiter than moonlight. His face was plagued with wrinkles, but Vasudeva was
surprised to see that the man miraculously had all his teeth. Humble rags
covered his body, and he held in his hand a long walking stick taller than the
man himself. “Is it true that the lord Vishnu himself has been reborn tonight?”
the man asked in a frail voice.
Vasudeva
was taken aback and found his mouth wide open. “-oh, uh…” he stumbled with his words.
“Yes. Or so the prophecies have foretold.”
“Then we
better get a move on.” The old man raised his hand, and Vasudeva heard the
clanking of metal behind him. As he turned around, he saw all of the guards fast
asleep on the ground, vigorously snoring with their weapons still in hand. The
old man tapped his staff on the dungeon floor and the jail door hinges popped
out of their slots. The door wobbled slightly and slammed into the stone with a
loud clank, yet the guards slept on.
“What is
this? Who are you?!” Vasudeva asked in shock. His wife slept on through the
loud noises, and Vasudeva wondered if the old man’s magic was working on her
too.
“I am no
one, no person of significance but the gods’ puppet.” The old man walked
forward and stepped over the sleeping guards. “The will of the gods is that
your son grows up far away from here. Come. Bring the boy. We have a long
journey ahead of us.”
Vasudeva followed
the sage as his newborn son slept peacefully in his arms. When they reached the
outdoors, Krishna’s skin seemed to glow in the night. At the edge of Kansa’s
great palace, a roaring river blocked their path, but before Vasudeva could
even raise a concern, the old man raised his hand and the water split apart to
the very bottom. Both men’s feet were still dry when they crossed.
After an
hour, Vasudeva and the old man reached the outskirts of a small town. Krishna stirred
slightly but slept on. Vasudeva followed the old man to a small farmhouse. He
waived his hand and the door opened silently. Inside, a small baby and his
mother lay sleeping. “Take this babe, and leave your son here,” the old man
whispered quietly.
“You can’t
mean that I’m leaving my son here?”
“Yes, and
you are taking this baby back with you so that Kansa will find it in the
morning.”
Vasudeva’s
eyes widened. “You would condemn an innocent child to death? No, I will go back
to the cell empty handed and both children will live.”
The old man
sighed. “Then Kansa will never stop searching for your son, and the world will
never be rid of demons. It is Krishna’s fate to purge the world of their
presence once more.” He picked up the child and held it out to Vasudeva. “This
is the will of the gods.”
Vasudeva
gave in and laid his newborn son where the other baby had been sleeping. He and
the old man walked back to Kansa’s castle with the other baby in his arms. The
river remained parted, the doors remained open, and the guards remained asleep.
When they finally arrived back at the cell, the old man waved his hand and the
cell door sprung back into its hinges. Vasudeva stole one last glimpse at the
old man before he faded back into the shadows of the cell. In the morning,
Vasudeva, Devaki, and the newborn baby were the only ones in the dungeon cell,
and Kansa came for the child.
Author’s note: This story is based on the story “The Coming
of Krishna” In this story, it is foretold by the gods that the eighth son of
Vasudeva would kill Kansa, so Kansa threw Vasudeva and his wife Devaki into the
dungeon. When their eighth son was born in the night, he was divine and had
magic powers. The baby blew the door off the hinges and parted the rivers while
speaking to his father. Then, he swapped places with one of Vasudeva’s other
children born to his other wife the same night. In the morning, when Kansa came
for the newborn baby, the baby ascended to heaven while telling Kansa that he
was a fool and the real 8th child had escaped. I thought it was
silly imagining these newborn children talking and performing magic, even if
they are incarnations of the gods, so I changed the story to make it easier to
imagine and a little darker by implying the second child would die to save
Krishna.
Image Information
Dungeon Cell - Flickr
