Bhagavatham Stories

As Krishna approached the threshold of adolescence, his appearance began to undergo a gradual transformation that would eventually astonish all of Vrindavan and the surrounding regions. From a beautiful child, he was beginning to mature into a young adolescent of such extraordinary beauty that even the gods and celestial beings were said to pause in their heavenly activities to catch a glimpse of him. This transformation was not merely physical but seemed to emanate from within—as if consciousness itself was becoming increasingly visible in his form. It was during this period that Krishna began to adorn himself with symbols that would become forever associated with him—the peacock feather in his hair and the garland of flowers around his neck.

The peacock feather that Krishna wore was not merely a decoration but a symbol rich with spiritual meaning. The peacock, in the Hindu tradition, is associated with beauty, divine joy, and the manifestation of consciousness in all its varieties. The feather's many-colored pattern, with each color distinct yet all part of a single whole, represented the principle that all the diversity of creation—all the colors, all the forms, all the varieties of experience—are ultimately expressions of a single consciousness. By wearing the peacock feather, Krishna was not claiming beauty for himself but was indicating that he was the source and repository of all beauty in the universe. The feather seemed to glow with an inner radiance whenever Krishna wore it, as if the feather itself recognized the status of the one adorning it.

The effect of Krishna wearing the peacock feather was immediate and overwhelming. The gopis, upon seeing him for the first time thus adorned, felt as if they were encountering him anew. Though they had known Krishna all their lives, had watched him grow from infancy to childhood, something in his appearance with the peacock feather seemed to trigger a transformation in their own consciousness. The maternal affection many of them had felt for him began to deepen and transform into something more intimate and personal. It was not that their love changed into something impure or inappropriate—rather, it was refined and elevated into a form of devotion that transcended ordinary categories of human relationship. They began to see in Krishna not merely the child they had watched grow but the embodiment of all beauty, all love, all divinity that they had ever yearned for.

During this period, Krishna's pastimes became increasingly centered on his interaction with the gopis. Where previously his pastimes had included demonstrations of cosmic power and protection of the community from demons, his pastimes now became more intimate and personal. He would call the gopis by their individual names, play games with them, engage them in conversations about love and devotion, and gradually teach them through his presence and his words about the nature of the relationship between the soul and the divine. These pastimes revealed a subtle teaching—that the divine does not withdraw from creation as one advances spiritually but becomes increasingly intimate and personal.

The peacock feather and the garland of flowers that Krishna wore seemed to become more elaborate and beautiful as he matured. The feather would seem to dance with its own internal light. The flowers in his garland would remain fresh and fragrant no matter how long he wore them. The cowherd boys began to try to imitate Krishna's style of adornment, fashioning their own peacock feathers and garlands, but none achieved the same effect. Only when Krishna wore them did these ornaments seem to radiate a spiritual significance beyond their material form. This suggested a principle of spiritual life—that the same external practices, when performed by the Supreme consciousness, carry a significance and power that they do not possess when performed by ordinary beings.

As Krishna entered this phase of adolescence, the entire region of Vrindavan seemed to be waiting for the next stage of his pastimes to unfold. The demons sent by Kamsa continued to arrive, each believing themselves capable of defeating a child, each meeting an end that demonstrated Krishna's power in new ways. The gopis found their lives increasingly centered on moments of proximity to Krishna. The cowherd boys experienced his friendship as the most valuable thing in their lives. Nanda and Yashoda continued their role as his earthly parents, though increasingly understanding the cosmic significance of the role they had been granted. The animals of Vrindavan seemed to recognize Krishna's growing significance, with the cows and peacocks following him through the forests as if in homage.

This period of Krishna's life revealed an important principle about the unfolding of divine pastimes—that the divine does not reveal itself all at once but gradually unfolds its nature and power according to the capacity of those witnessing and participating. Krishna at the age of six or seven was already understood by some in Vrindavan to be the Supreme Personality of Godhead, yet there were many for whom this recognition came gradually, as incident after incident demonstrated his extraordinary nature. As Krishna matured, new dimensions of his divinity would unfold. The miracles of his infancy—the demons he had destroyed, the mountain he had lifted—would give way to the miracles of his adolescence and young adulthood. Yet each phase would be necessary, each would serve a purpose in preparing the consciousness of all beings to receive and understand the next revelation.