KRISHNA CORIOLIS#4: Lord of Mathura (10 page)

Yashoda looked down and saw something in his eyes, something that she had not seen in the Krishna who had bid goodbye to her that morning. Something she could not quite define. It was the same Krishna, yet different. 

She did not know how that could be possible. But she did know that with Krishna,
anything
was possible. She felt her heart reciprocate the great outrush of emotion brimming in his eyes, and clasped him to her breast, embracing him tightly. She kissed his face all over, rubbing his arms and legs, then took him by the hand into the other room and fed him the best meal of his life. 

Watching him eat, she felt fulfilled and sated herself. While he ate food that nourished his body, being in his presence nourished her soul. 

2

There
was a shortage of fruit in Vrindavan. The elders were concerned as all the fruit trees had been yielding rotten or poor produce. Their concern was not one of taste or luxury: fruit was essential for good health, their own as well as their cattle. They had to find a new source of fresh fruit quickly. Yet they must do so without leaving Vrindavan. How was this to be accomplished? 

Sridama had a suggestion which he offered to the younger gopas as they were discussing the matter while watching the calf herds. ‘I know a place where there is plenty of fruit. It’s like a heaven of fruit, with the most juicy, tasty fruits you ever imagined, all growing in one place.’

The boys exclaimed, some of them licking their lips. Every Vrishni loved fruit. Even some of the dogs sitting around their masters looked up, twitching their tails hopefully at the prospect of fruity treats. 

‘Take us there,’ they said. ‘Let us go now!’ It had been so long since any of them had tasted fresh fruit, they could barely wait. 

Sridama looked around, his smile fading. ‘I cannot.’

‘Why not?’ someone asked.

‘Nobody is supposed to go there,’ Sridama replied. 

‘Where?’ Balarama asked at once. Balarama took every such statement as a direct challenge. To say in Balarama’s presence ‘nobody dares do this’ or ‘nobody can do that’ was like pointing a finger at him and challenging him to do it himself. ‘Tell us how to get to this heaven of fruit.’

Sridama looked around nervously. ‘I’m not supposed to say.’

Balarama stepped forward, elbowing the other boys aside without any malice. ‘Tell me, Sridama.’

Sridama looked at Krishna. He revered Krishna and would do anything Yashoda’s son said. ‘My father made me promise not to tell anyone…’ 

He paused significantly, looking directly at Krishna. 

Krishna glanced at Balarama. They understood what Sridama meant: Krishna hardly fell in the category of ‘anyone’. 

‘You can tell me, Sridama,’ Krishna said to his friend. 

Sridama shook his head. ‘A promise is a promise. I cannot tell.’

The other gopas all voiced their protest. 

Krishna thought for a moment, then said, ‘He made you promise not to tell anyone, is that right?’

Sridama nodded vigorously. 

Krishna grinned. 

‘But he didn’t make you promise not to
show
anyone, did he?’

Sridama thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head, a smile appearing on his thin long face. 

Krishna rose to his feet. 

‘Well, then, you won’t disobey your father if you show us the way. Come on, let’s go find this fabulous fruit grove!’ 

A chorus of cheers exploded as everyone followed after Krishna and Balarama. 

Balarama tugged at Krishna’s elbow as they started off down the pathway. Krishna glanced curiously at his brother. 

‘Bhraatr,’ Balarama said in a voice that suggested he did not want an argument. ‘You promised me last time that next time it would be my turn to deal with any threat that befell us.’

Krishna nodded. ‘So I did.’

Balarama jerked his head ahead, indicating the way they were headed. ‘In case anything should happen today, remember that. I’ll do the fighting this time.’

Krishna grinned. ‘Very well, bhaiya. But in case you need any help, I’ll be there, right behind you.’

Balarama snorted. ‘Me? Need help? Never in an entire eon. I can handle any asura that makes the mistake of showing its ugly face.’

Krishna shrugged. ‘So be it, bhaiya. The next asura that threatens us, you will deal with it.’

‘And you won’t interfere, even if I’m in trouble,’ Balarama warned. 

Krishna nodded. ‘Not unless you ask me for help.’

Balarama thought for a moment, then broke out into a wide grin. ‘That’s fine. That’s quite fine. Thank you, bhraatr! I won’t let you down.’

Krishna slapped his brother on his back. ‘I know you won’t, bhaiya.’

Balarama glanced one last time at Krishna, to check if there was any double entendre or hidden meaning to Krishna’s words. But for once his brother seemed completely sincere. Balarama grinned. 

Finally he would get a chance to fight! 

He didn’t notice the sly mischievous grin on his brother’s face. 

3

‘There.
Up ahead through that gap then up a little way, then down again, and you will find yourself in the palmyra grove.’ Sridama pointed. 

‘Palmyra grove,’ one of the other boys said. ‘Here? In Vrindavan?’

‘It must be a trick by the asuras to lure Krishna in,’ said Krishna’s cousin, son of his uncle Upananda. ‘We should go back and report this to Nanda-Maharaja. He will know what to do.’

Sridama shook his head woefully. ‘He knows about this grove. It was discovered some time ago by my own father and myself.’

Balarama and Krishna exchanged a glance. ‘Nanda-Maharaja knows about this fruit grove? Then why won’t he let everyone take fruit from here?’

Sridama looked around fearfully. ‘Because a demon resides in this grove.’

At once the boys reacted, some widening their eyes, others making exclamations. 

Only Balarama was intrigued, excited even. ‘What sort of demon?’ he asked, trying hard to appear nonchalant. 

Sridama looked sheepish. ‘You will laugh if I tell you. But it’s very a dangerous demon. It killed three men even before we came to Vrindavan to live.’

Balarama looked at Krishna, holding his gaze. Krishna sighed and tilted his head as if having second thoughts about something. Balarama kept his gaze steady, as if demanding something. Finally, Krishna sighed again and nodded, relenting. The rest exchanged glances, wondering what that was about but said nothing. They were used to Krishna and Balarama communicating in mysterious ways. 

Balarama let out a whoop of satisfaction and started up the path. The other boys all called after him, alarmed. 

‘Balarama-bhaiya, the demon!’ one said. 

Sridama looked at Krishna. ‘He’s going inside the grove, isn’t he?’

Krishna shrugged. 

‘To find the demon and fight it himself, yes?’

Krishna shrugged again. 

Sridama covered his face with his hands. ‘My father will kill me if anything happens to Balarama! He’ll say it was my fault!’

Krishna put his arm around Sridama’s shoulders. ‘Nothing will happen to Balarama. I’ll make sure of that.’

And Krishna went up the path too, following behind his brother. 

The other boys all looked at each other, scared witless and wondering what to do. 

There was nothing to do really, except wait. 

4

Balarama
and Krishna looked around, astonished. ‘There’s enough fruit here to feed everyone for a year!’ Balarama said. 

And there was. The Palmyra grove was an idyllic place: fruit trees of every description grew all around. It was impossible for such a diverse variety of fruits to grow together in one place, many required different soil or sunlight or water, yet here they were, all clustered together like one enormous tribe, growing side by side, shoulder by shoulder. The sticky sweet aroma of fresh fruit was everywhere, sometimes pungent, sometimes sweet, sometimes mingled as different trees exuded different scents. 

Krishna plucked an orange from a low-hanging branch. He tore a piece of the peel off and juice squirted out, almost hitting Balarama’s eye. 

‘Ow!’ Balarama exclaimed, rubbing the juice from his eye, the eye watering at once. ‘You did that on purpose!’

‘Sorry, bhaiya,’ Krishna said innocently. ‘Here, have some of the fruit. It’s delicious!’

Balarama took a quarter of orange and popped it into his mouth. Tangy nectar exploded on his tongue. He blinked and chewed. ‘It really is, bhraatr! This is the best orange I’ve ever eaten!’ He crunched a seed by mistake and made a face. ‘And I don’t even like oranges!’

Krishna pointed. Growing close beside the orange tree was a jackfruit tree, enormously tall and massive and ancient-looking. ‘Look. That’s impossible. Orange and jackfruit never grow together.’ He turned around, pointing this way then that. ‘Nor do banana and strawberry. Or jambun and sweet lemon!’

Balarama looked and shrugged. ‘There must be magic at work here. Maybe the demon who lives here loves fruit. Maybe he used his magic to make these trees grow together.’

Balarama stopped and looked around. 

‘What is it?’ Krishna asked, finishing the last of the orange. 

‘Listen. What do you hear?’

Krishna listened. ‘Nothing. Not a sound.’

‘Exactly. That’s impossible too. In a grove like this, there should be any number of birds, animals, insects, all consuming the fruit openly or secretly, and they would make
some
noise. But I don’t hear so much as an ant nibbling on an orange peel.’

Krishna didn’t need to point out that ants didn’t make much sound nibbling on orange peels: Balarama was merely trying to make a point. He nodded, looking sombre. ‘You’re right, bhaiya, somehow this demon has scared off every other living creature.’

‘Yes,’ Balarama said, bending low to the ground and sniffing. ‘He must be very powerful to keep this beautiful treasure trove of ripe fruit all to himself.’

‘And very dangerous,’ Krishna added. 

‘I don’t care,’ Balarama said at once, spinning around. He pointed a finger at Krishna. ‘This time, I’m going to face the demon, Krishna. You owe me this one. You promised!’

Krishna grinned. ‘And I intend to keep my promise, bhaiya!’

Balarama narrowed his wide eyes suspiciously. ‘You mean it?’

‘Of course,’ Krishna said, spreading his arms in invitation. ‘Be my guest, brother. This demon is all your’s to deal with.’

‘And you won’t interfere if the fight gets rough? You promise to let me deal with him on my own entirely?’

‘Well, I can always come to assist you if you need me,’ Krishna said. 

Balarama bristled. ‘I don’t need any assistance! I can handle any asura on m own.’

Krishna raised his hands in surrender. ‘Okay, okay. Let me go look around. You start shaking the trees so we can collect the fruits that fall.’

‘And if you hear anything or see the demon, you shout out and call to me,’ Balarama warned. ‘Don’t engage him yourself. Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ Krishna called back over his shoulder. 

He smiled a secret smile as he went, but Balarama didn’t see the smile. 

***

Balarama went up to an apple tree, took hold of the trunk and shook it hard. Scores of apples rained down, most of them on his head and shoulders. Balarama grimaced and kept his eyes shut, peering out when the deluge was over. One errant apple thudded down on his head and bounced off. He caught it in mid air, looked at it carefully. It looked beautifully ripe, red, and luscious. He wiped it on his anga-vastra till it shone waxily. Then he took a bite. The crunching sound it made was delicious in itself; the juicy pulp that he bit into was sugar sweet and of the perfect consistency. It had been awhile since Balarama had eaten an apple at all, let alone one this tasty. He chewed his way through the whole apple in moments, then picked up another one, bigger and juicier looking than the first. He bit into this one too, sweet sticky juice spattering his own cheeks. He wiped it away as he demolished the second apple. 

So absorbed was he in biting into the crunchy apple, he failed to notice the beast appoaching him from behind until it was upon him. The first inkling he had was a mighty blow to his back. It felt like two giant hammers pounding into his back, driving him forward. He fell against the apple tree hard enough that the trunk cracked and whatever few remaining apples remained on the boughs plopped to the ground. 

Balarama turned around and looked at the creature that stood before him, rearing up on its hind legs and revealing a mouthful of large jagged teeth. Its eyes glowed red, and it stank of a peculiar sweetish odour that he could not place at first. 

‘A donkey?’ he said, unable to believe the evidence of his sight. That was what the demon looked like, a donkey! 

The creature reared up and lunged forward in a maneuver no mere donkey was capable of executing. Balarama rolled aside just in time. The donkey’s fore paws struck the apple tree with enough force to split the wood into splinters. The tree crashed to the ground. The donkey demon flipped over and swung around with an agility and peculiarity of movement that was impossible for any four footed equestrian. No doubt about it: this was an asura.