Bhagavatham Stories

In the simple cottage of Nanda, surrounded by the pastoral beauty of Vrindavan, Krishna grew under the tender care of Yashoda. Vrindavan was not merely a geographical location but a sacred realm infused with spiritual energy, the chosen place for Krishna's childhood pastimes. The forests of Vrindavan were filled with the resonance of divine music, the rivers flowed with liquid devotion, and the very earth seemed to vibrate with anticipation of Krishna's presence. Yashoda nursed the infant Krishna with a love that was both maternal and devotional, recognizing on some level beyond conscious understanding that she was serving the divine, though she knew him only as her beloved son. She would gaze at his face endlessly, finding in his features something both familiar and infinitely mysterious.

As Krishna grew from an infant into a toddler, his supernatural nature began to reveal itself through miraculous incidents that delighted and bewildered all who witnessed them. Once, as Yashoda was nursing him, she glanced away briefly, and when she looked back, Krishna had vanished from her arms. Her cries of distress brought the entire village running, but despite their search, the child could not be found. After hours of frantic searching, Yashoda discovered Krishna playing peacefully in the forest, surrounded by wild animals that were docile in his presence, the snakes harmless, the fierce tigers gentle as house cats. When asked how he had traveled so far, Krishna replied with the innocent playfulness of a child, yet his words carried the wisdom of the infinite: "Mother, I was playing here the whole time. Perhaps you were dreaming."

The gopis—the cowherd women of Vrindavan—became enchanted with Krishna's presence. These were not merely rustic women but souls whose hearts were naturally attuned to devotion. They would gather around Krishna, watching his play, listening to his words, finding in his presence a nourishment for their souls that they could not adequately describe. When Krishna would cry, the gopis would rush to console him, fighting with each other for the privilege of holding him. When he would laugh, his laughter seemed to touch some place deep within their hearts that had always been waiting for such a sound. They experienced in proximity to Krishna a joy and fulfillment that no worldly pleasure could provide. Nanda, Krishna's foster father, would often marvel at how the entire village seemed to revolve around the beautiful dark-complexioned child.

One incident in particular revealed the extraordinary nature of Krishna's childhood. A demoness named Putana, sent by Kamsa to kill Krishna, came to Vrindavan in the form of a beautiful woman and attempted to nurse the infant Krishna with poison. However, as Krishna drank from her breast, he drew out not only the milk but her very life force. Putana collapsed and died, her body expanding to a massive size. Yashoda and the villagers were terrified, but Krishna remained untouched, playing innocently as if nothing had happened. When questioned about the incident, Krishna asked, "Mother, what happened? I was just drinking milk." This miraculous deliverance began to convince the villagers that something extraordinary dwelt among them.

Another time, when Krishna was playing with the other cowherd children and they complained that Krishna had eaten mud, Yashoda went to investigate this impropriety. She gently opened Krishna's mouth to see if mud was inside, and instead of mud, she beheld within his small mouth the entire universe—all the worlds, all the galaxies, all the stars, and all the beings. She saw herself standing before him, saw Vrindavan, saw the mountains and oceans and sky, all contained infinitely within the form of her small child. In that moment, Yashoda experienced a glimpse of Krishna's cosmic nature. Yet immediately, the vision was withdrawn, and she found herself gazing at the familiar face of her beloved son, the memory of the vision remaining but already becoming dreamlike, impossible to fully grasp with the rational mind.

As Krishna grew into childhood, he began to display abilities that surpassed those of ordinary children. He could lift boulders single-handedly. His playfulness with the other children had an almost supernatural grace—when he would play, he seemed to move in ways that defied the normal laws of nature. When he would dance, his body would move with a fluidity and expressiveness that seemed to contain all the ragas (musical modes) of creation. The cowherd boys adored him, and their games with Krishna became legendary among the village folk. These were not merely childhood pranks but divine pastimes, each containing hidden teachings about the nature of consciousness and the relationship between the divine and the individual soul.

Yashoda's love for Krishna was tested continually by his mischievous nature and his mysterious disappearances. Yet through all these trials, her love never wavered. She would discipline him when he was naughty, tying him to a grinding stone as punishment, yet even in this punishment there was a divine play—Krishna would escape, or move the stone, or transform the experience into a teaching moment. The scriptures suggest that Yashoda's willingness to discipline Krishna, her complete lack of fear or hesitation in treating him as her son rather than as the Supreme Lord, was itself a form of devotion—the devotion of one who loves not for what the beloved is, but for who the beloved is to her heart.

Through these childhood years in Vrindavan, surrounded by the devotion of the gopis, the love of Nanda and Yashoda, and the companionship of the cowherd boys, Krishna was setting the stage for his greatest pastimes. Every miracle, every incident, every game was not merely entertainment but a revelation of divine nature acting in the world. The cowherd settlement of Vrindavan was becoming a sacred ground where the eternal and temporal touched, where the infinite chose to experience the finite, where the Supreme Lord engaged in pastimes that would captivate all of existence and inspire devotion for countless ages to come.