SECTION VI.Parāçara said Once on a time while the slayer of Madhu was asleep underneath the wagon, he cried for the breast and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. Hearing the noise the wives of the cow-herds came exclaiming—"Ah! Ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have overturned the wagon?" exclaimed the cow-herds. "That child" said some of the boys who saw the circumstance. "We saw him," said the boys, "crying and kicking the wagon and so the wagon was upset; no one else had anything to do with it".The cow-herds were therefore greatly surprised and not knowing what to do Nanda at once took up the boy and Yasoda offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the wagon, with curds, flowers, fruits and unbruised grain.Being commissioned by Vasudeva, Garga performed the initiatory rites of the two boys secretly in Vraja. The eldest was named Rāma and the other Krishna by the wise Garga, the foremost of the intelligent. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees and creeping everywhere, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohini nor Yasoda was able to prevent them from getting into the cow-pens or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. When Yasoda could not prevent the two boys, who always rambled together, from playing naughtily, she became angry and taking up a stick remonstrated with Krishna having eyes like lotus-petals. Fastening a cord round his waist she tied him to the wooden mortar and being angry, she said to him "Now you wicked boy, get away from here, if you can". Having said this, she went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had gone, the lotus-eyed Krishna, trying to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between the two Arjuna trees that grew near together. Being dragged there the mortar became wedged between the two trees, and Krishna having pulled it, the two huge trees covered with many leaves, were uprooted. Hearing the cracking noise the inhabitants of Vraja came to see what was the matter and there they beheld the two huge trees with broken branches and stems lying on the ground with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing and shewing his white teeth, just budded. It is from this that Krishna is called Dāmodara from the binding ofdama(rope) round hisudara(belly). The elders among the cow-herds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as inauspicious signs. They said—"We cannot remain in this place—let us go to some other part of the forest Here many evil omens threaten us with destruction—the death of Putanā, the upsetting of the wagon and the fall of the trees without their being uprooted by the wind. Let us go away from here without any delay and go to Vrindavana, where evil omens may no longer disturb us".Having thus made up their minds, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families and desired them to go without delay. Accordingly they started with their wagons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; they threw away the fragments of their household stores and in no time Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindavana was selected by Krishna, who was above the influence of actions, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine, for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as profusely as the rains. Having gone to Vrindavana from Vraja, the inhabitants of the latter up their wagons in the form of a crescent.As the two boys Rāma and Damodara grew up, they lived always together in the same place and engaged in the same boyish sports. They made themselves crests of the peacocks' plumes and garlands of forest flowers and musical instruments of reeds and leaves or played upon the pipes used by cowherds; their hair was arranged like the wings of the crow, and they looked like two young princes and portions of the god of war. They were robust, and walked about always laughing and playing sometimes with each other, sometimes with other boys; driving, along with other young cowherds, the calves to the pasture. Thus the two protectors of the universe were keepers of cattle until they became seven years old in the cow-pens of Vrindavana.Then began the rainy season when the atmosphere was full of clouds and the quarters of the horizon were blended into one by the driving showers. The water of the rivers rose and overflowed their banks, and spread beyond all limits like the mind of the weak and wicked transported beyond restraint by sudden prosperity. The pure radiance of the moon was obscured by heavy vapours as the teachings of the sacred writings are darkened by the arrogant scoffs of the unbelievers. The bow of Indra held its place unstrung in the sky like a worthless person elevated to honour by an indiscreet king. White line of storks appeared upon the back of the clouds in such contrast as the bright conduct of a man of respectability opposes to the conduct of a scoundrel. The ever-fickle lightning, being newly allied with the sky, was like the friendship of a profligate for a man of substance. Overgrown by the spreading grain, the paths became difficult of being traced like the words of the ignorant carrying no definite meaning.Krishna and Rāma, delighted, began to live in the forest in that beautiful season maddening the peacocks and bees. Sometimes they sang and danced with the cow-herds and sometimes sat under the cool shade of a huge tree for rest. Sometimes they beautified themselves with garlands of Kadamba flowers and again with garlands of peacocks' feathers; sometimes they painted themselves with the minerals of the mountain; sometimes they slept on beds of leaves and sometimes they rejoiced with the infants of the cow-herds, hearing the muttering of the clouds; sometimes they praised the songs of the boys, sometimes mimicked the cry the peacocks and sometimes played on pipes.Thus greatly attached to each other and participating, in various emotions and sports, Rāma and Krishna delightedly resided in that forest. And every evening they used to come back home like two cow-boys along with the cows and cow-herds. And coming home in the evening, the two deities heartily engaged in sports giving delight to the sons of the cow-herds.
SECTION VI.Parāçara said Once on a time while the slayer of Madhu was asleep underneath the wagon, he cried for the breast and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. Hearing the noise the wives of the cow-herds came exclaiming—"Ah! Ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have overturned the wagon?" exclaimed the cow-herds. "That child" said some of the boys who saw the circumstance. "We saw him," said the boys, "crying and kicking the wagon and so the wagon was upset; no one else had anything to do with it".The cow-herds were therefore greatly surprised and not knowing what to do Nanda at once took up the boy and Yasoda offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the wagon, with curds, flowers, fruits and unbruised grain.Being commissioned by Vasudeva, Garga performed the initiatory rites of the two boys secretly in Vraja. The eldest was named Rāma and the other Krishna by the wise Garga, the foremost of the intelligent. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees and creeping everywhere, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohini nor Yasoda was able to prevent them from getting into the cow-pens or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. When Yasoda could not prevent the two boys, who always rambled together, from playing naughtily, she became angry and taking up a stick remonstrated with Krishna having eyes like lotus-petals. Fastening a cord round his waist she tied him to the wooden mortar and being angry, she said to him "Now you wicked boy, get away from here, if you can". Having said this, she went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had gone, the lotus-eyed Krishna, trying to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between the two Arjuna trees that grew near together. Being dragged there the mortar became wedged between the two trees, and Krishna having pulled it, the two huge trees covered with many leaves, were uprooted. Hearing the cracking noise the inhabitants of Vraja came to see what was the matter and there they beheld the two huge trees with broken branches and stems lying on the ground with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing and shewing his white teeth, just budded. It is from this that Krishna is called Dāmodara from the binding ofdama(rope) round hisudara(belly). The elders among the cow-herds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as inauspicious signs. They said—"We cannot remain in this place—let us go to some other part of the forest Here many evil omens threaten us with destruction—the death of Putanā, the upsetting of the wagon and the fall of the trees without their being uprooted by the wind. Let us go away from here without any delay and go to Vrindavana, where evil omens may no longer disturb us".Having thus made up their minds, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families and desired them to go without delay. Accordingly they started with their wagons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; they threw away the fragments of their household stores and in no time Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindavana was selected by Krishna, who was above the influence of actions, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine, for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as profusely as the rains. Having gone to Vrindavana from Vraja, the inhabitants of the latter up their wagons in the form of a crescent.As the two boys Rāma and Damodara grew up, they lived always together in the same place and engaged in the same boyish sports. They made themselves crests of the peacocks' plumes and garlands of forest flowers and musical instruments of reeds and leaves or played upon the pipes used by cowherds; their hair was arranged like the wings of the crow, and they looked like two young princes and portions of the god of war. They were robust, and walked about always laughing and playing sometimes with each other, sometimes with other boys; driving, along with other young cowherds, the calves to the pasture. Thus the two protectors of the universe were keepers of cattle until they became seven years old in the cow-pens of Vrindavana.Then began the rainy season when the atmosphere was full of clouds and the quarters of the horizon were blended into one by the driving showers. The water of the rivers rose and overflowed their banks, and spread beyond all limits like the mind of the weak and wicked transported beyond restraint by sudden prosperity. The pure radiance of the moon was obscured by heavy vapours as the teachings of the sacred writings are darkened by the arrogant scoffs of the unbelievers. The bow of Indra held its place unstrung in the sky like a worthless person elevated to honour by an indiscreet king. White line of storks appeared upon the back of the clouds in such contrast as the bright conduct of a man of respectability opposes to the conduct of a scoundrel. The ever-fickle lightning, being newly allied with the sky, was like the friendship of a profligate for a man of substance. Overgrown by the spreading grain, the paths became difficult of being traced like the words of the ignorant carrying no definite meaning.Krishna and Rāma, delighted, began to live in the forest in that beautiful season maddening the peacocks and bees. Sometimes they sang and danced with the cow-herds and sometimes sat under the cool shade of a huge tree for rest. Sometimes they beautified themselves with garlands of Kadamba flowers and again with garlands of peacocks' feathers; sometimes they painted themselves with the minerals of the mountain; sometimes they slept on beds of leaves and sometimes they rejoiced with the infants of the cow-herds, hearing the muttering of the clouds; sometimes they praised the songs of the boys, sometimes mimicked the cry the peacocks and sometimes played on pipes.Thus greatly attached to each other and participating, in various emotions and sports, Rāma and Krishna delightedly resided in that forest. And every evening they used to come back home like two cow-boys along with the cows and cow-herds. And coming home in the evening, the two deities heartily engaged in sports giving delight to the sons of the cow-herds.
SECTION VI.Parāçara said Once on a time while the slayer of Madhu was asleep underneath the wagon, he cried for the breast and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. Hearing the noise the wives of the cow-herds came exclaiming—"Ah! Ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have overturned the wagon?" exclaimed the cow-herds. "That child" said some of the boys who saw the circumstance. "We saw him," said the boys, "crying and kicking the wagon and so the wagon was upset; no one else had anything to do with it".The cow-herds were therefore greatly surprised and not knowing what to do Nanda at once took up the boy and Yasoda offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the wagon, with curds, flowers, fruits and unbruised grain.Being commissioned by Vasudeva, Garga performed the initiatory rites of the two boys secretly in Vraja. The eldest was named Rāma and the other Krishna by the wise Garga, the foremost of the intelligent. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees and creeping everywhere, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohini nor Yasoda was able to prevent them from getting into the cow-pens or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. When Yasoda could not prevent the two boys, who always rambled together, from playing naughtily, she became angry and taking up a stick remonstrated with Krishna having eyes like lotus-petals. Fastening a cord round his waist she tied him to the wooden mortar and being angry, she said to him "Now you wicked boy, get away from here, if you can". Having said this, she went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had gone, the lotus-eyed Krishna, trying to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between the two Arjuna trees that grew near together. Being dragged there the mortar became wedged between the two trees, and Krishna having pulled it, the two huge trees covered with many leaves, were uprooted. Hearing the cracking noise the inhabitants of Vraja came to see what was the matter and there they beheld the two huge trees with broken branches and stems lying on the ground with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing and shewing his white teeth, just budded. It is from this that Krishna is called Dāmodara from the binding ofdama(rope) round hisudara(belly). The elders among the cow-herds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as inauspicious signs. They said—"We cannot remain in this place—let us go to some other part of the forest Here many evil omens threaten us with destruction—the death of Putanā, the upsetting of the wagon and the fall of the trees without their being uprooted by the wind. Let us go away from here without any delay and go to Vrindavana, where evil omens may no longer disturb us".Having thus made up their minds, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families and desired them to go without delay. Accordingly they started with their wagons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; they threw away the fragments of their household stores and in no time Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindavana was selected by Krishna, who was above the influence of actions, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine, for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as profusely as the rains. Having gone to Vrindavana from Vraja, the inhabitants of the latter up their wagons in the form of a crescent.As the two boys Rāma and Damodara grew up, they lived always together in the same place and engaged in the same boyish sports. They made themselves crests of the peacocks' plumes and garlands of forest flowers and musical instruments of reeds and leaves or played upon the pipes used by cowherds; their hair was arranged like the wings of the crow, and they looked like two young princes and portions of the god of war. They were robust, and walked about always laughing and playing sometimes with each other, sometimes with other boys; driving, along with other young cowherds, the calves to the pasture. Thus the two protectors of the universe were keepers of cattle until they became seven years old in the cow-pens of Vrindavana.Then began the rainy season when the atmosphere was full of clouds and the quarters of the horizon were blended into one by the driving showers. The water of the rivers rose and overflowed their banks, and spread beyond all limits like the mind of the weak and wicked transported beyond restraint by sudden prosperity. The pure radiance of the moon was obscured by heavy vapours as the teachings of the sacred writings are darkened by the arrogant scoffs of the unbelievers. The bow of Indra held its place unstrung in the sky like a worthless person elevated to honour by an indiscreet king. White line of storks appeared upon the back of the clouds in such contrast as the bright conduct of a man of respectability opposes to the conduct of a scoundrel. The ever-fickle lightning, being newly allied with the sky, was like the friendship of a profligate for a man of substance. Overgrown by the spreading grain, the paths became difficult of being traced like the words of the ignorant carrying no definite meaning.Krishna and Rāma, delighted, began to live in the forest in that beautiful season maddening the peacocks and bees. Sometimes they sang and danced with the cow-herds and sometimes sat under the cool shade of a huge tree for rest. Sometimes they beautified themselves with garlands of Kadamba flowers and again with garlands of peacocks' feathers; sometimes they painted themselves with the minerals of the mountain; sometimes they slept on beds of leaves and sometimes they rejoiced with the infants of the cow-herds, hearing the muttering of the clouds; sometimes they praised the songs of the boys, sometimes mimicked the cry the peacocks and sometimes played on pipes.Thus greatly attached to each other and participating, in various emotions and sports, Rāma and Krishna delightedly resided in that forest. And every evening they used to come back home like two cow-boys along with the cows and cow-herds. And coming home in the evening, the two deities heartily engaged in sports giving delight to the sons of the cow-herds.
Parāçara said Once on a time while the slayer of Madhu was asleep underneath the wagon, he cried for the breast and kicking up his feet he overturned the vehicle and all the pots and pans were upset and broken. Hearing the noise the wives of the cow-herds came exclaiming—"Ah! Ah!" and there they found the child sleeping on his back. "Who could have overturned the wagon?" exclaimed the cow-herds. "That child" said some of the boys who saw the circumstance. "We saw him," said the boys, "crying and kicking the wagon and so the wagon was upset; no one else had anything to do with it".
The cow-herds were therefore greatly surprised and not knowing what to do Nanda at once took up the boy and Yasoda offered worship to the broken pieces of pots and to the wagon, with curds, flowers, fruits and unbruised grain.
Being commissioned by Vasudeva, Garga performed the initiatory rites of the two boys secretly in Vraja. The eldest was named Rāma and the other Krishna by the wise Garga, the foremost of the intelligent. In a short time they began to crawl about the ground, supporting themselves on their hands and knees and creeping everywhere, often amidst ashes and filth. Neither Rohini nor Yasoda was able to prevent them from getting into the cow-pens or amongst the calves, where they amused themselves by pulling their tails. When Yasoda could not prevent the two boys, who always rambled together, from playing naughtily, she became angry and taking up a stick remonstrated with Krishna having eyes like lotus-petals. Fastening a cord round his waist she tied him to the wooden mortar and being angry, she said to him "Now you wicked boy, get away from here, if you can". Having said this, she went about her domestic affairs. As soon as she had gone, the lotus-eyed Krishna, trying to extricate himself, pulled the mortar after him to the space between the two Arjuna trees that grew near together. Being dragged there the mortar became wedged between the two trees, and Krishna having pulled it, the two huge trees covered with many leaves, were uprooted. Hearing the cracking noise the inhabitants of Vraja came to see what was the matter and there they beheld the two huge trees with broken branches and stems lying on the ground with the child fixed between them, with a rope round his belly, laughing and shewing his white teeth, just budded. It is from this that Krishna is called Dāmodara from the binding ofdama(rope) round hisudara(belly). The elders among the cow-herds, with Nanda at their head, looked upon these circumstances with alarm, considering them as inauspicious signs. They said—"We cannot remain in this place—let us go to some other part of the forest Here many evil omens threaten us with destruction—the death of Putanā, the upsetting of the wagon and the fall of the trees without their being uprooted by the wind. Let us go away from here without any delay and go to Vrindavana, where evil omens may no longer disturb us".
Having thus made up their minds, the inhabitants of Vraja communicated their intention to their families and desired them to go without delay. Accordingly they started with their wagons and their cattle, driving before them their bulls and cows and calves; they threw away the fragments of their household stores and in no time Vraja was overspread with flights of crows. Vrindavana was selected by Krishna, who was above the influence of actions, for the sake of providing for the nourishment of the kine, for there in the hottest season the new grass springs up as profusely as the rains. Having gone to Vrindavana from Vraja, the inhabitants of the latter up their wagons in the form of a crescent.
As the two boys Rāma and Damodara grew up, they lived always together in the same place and engaged in the same boyish sports. They made themselves crests of the peacocks' plumes and garlands of forest flowers and musical instruments of reeds and leaves or played upon the pipes used by cowherds; their hair was arranged like the wings of the crow, and they looked like two young princes and portions of the god of war. They were robust, and walked about always laughing and playing sometimes with each other, sometimes with other boys; driving, along with other young cowherds, the calves to the pasture. Thus the two protectors of the universe were keepers of cattle until they became seven years old in the cow-pens of Vrindavana.
Then began the rainy season when the atmosphere was full of clouds and the quarters of the horizon were blended into one by the driving showers. The water of the rivers rose and overflowed their banks, and spread beyond all limits like the mind of the weak and wicked transported beyond restraint by sudden prosperity. The pure radiance of the moon was obscured by heavy vapours as the teachings of the sacred writings are darkened by the arrogant scoffs of the unbelievers. The bow of Indra held its place unstrung in the sky like a worthless person elevated to honour by an indiscreet king. White line of storks appeared upon the back of the clouds in such contrast as the bright conduct of a man of respectability opposes to the conduct of a scoundrel. The ever-fickle lightning, being newly allied with the sky, was like the friendship of a profligate for a man of substance. Overgrown by the spreading grain, the paths became difficult of being traced like the words of the ignorant carrying no definite meaning.
Krishna and Rāma, delighted, began to live in the forest in that beautiful season maddening the peacocks and bees. Sometimes they sang and danced with the cow-herds and sometimes sat under the cool shade of a huge tree for rest. Sometimes they beautified themselves with garlands of Kadamba flowers and again with garlands of peacocks' feathers; sometimes they painted themselves with the minerals of the mountain; sometimes they slept on beds of leaves and sometimes they rejoiced with the infants of the cow-herds, hearing the muttering of the clouds; sometimes they praised the songs of the boys, sometimes mimicked the cry the peacocks and sometimes played on pipes.
Thus greatly attached to each other and participating, in various emotions and sports, Rāma and Krishna delightedly resided in that forest. And every evening they used to come back home like two cow-boys along with the cows and cow-herds. And coming home in the evening, the two deities heartily engaged in sports giving delight to the sons of the cow-herds.