Bhagavatham Stories

The pastimes of Krishna were reaching a crescendo, each incident bringing more and more evidence of his extraordinary nature to the consciousness of the Vrindavan community. Yet perhaps the most dramatic and undeniable proof of Krishna's divine power came through an incident that directly threatened the entire village, an event so extraordinary that it could not be explained away as coincidence or attributed to natural causes. This was the lifting of the Govardhana Mountain, an event that would forever be inscribed in the memory of the universe as a demonstration of divine omnipotence.

A great storm was gathering over Vrindavan, a storm of such magnitude that it seemed to threaten the very existence of the community and all its inhabitants. The sky turned black as midnight, though it was midday. Thunder roared across the heavens, and lightning split the clouds in brilliant flashes. The wind became a force of terrible destruction, bending the trees as if they were grass and tearing the roofs from houses. The rain fell not in drops but in sheets, as if the entire ocean had decided to pour itself upon the earth. The cattle, terrified and bewildered, ran hither and thither, seeking shelter that could not be found. The elderly and the children huddled in the homes, praying for deliverance. The situation was dire—if the storm continued, it seemed certain that many would not survive.

Nanda and the other elders of Vrindavan, desperate to find any shelter, remembered that nearby was Govardhana Mountain, a hill of considerable size that might provide some protection. They gathered the entire community and the cattle and began to make their way toward the mountain, moving slowly against the wind and rain, barely able to see a few feet in front of them. But as they approached the mountain, they found that even its caves and crevices seemed inadequate to shelter such a large number of people and animals. There seemed to be nowhere to turn, no escape from the fury of the storm.

It was at this moment that Krishna, understanding the desperation of his family and community, revealed himself once again in a way that could not be misinterpreted or explained away. He walked away from the shelter toward which the villagers were heading, approached Govardhana Mountain, and with a calm and graceful gesture, simply lifted the entire mountain with one hand. The mountain, which weighed countless thousands of tons, which would have required the combined strength of all the demigods to move even slightly, was lifted as easily as a child lifts a toy, held aloft on Krishna's single upraised hand.

With the mountain lifted, Krishna stood beneath it like an umbrella, and gestured for all the people and animals of Vrindavan to gather beneath the shelter of the mountain. One by one, they filed under the lifted mountain, finding themselves in a space that seemed infinitely spacious despite being under a single hand. Nanda, Yashoda, Balarama, the gopis, the cowherd boys, all the villagers and all their cattle—every single person and creature that needed shelter found it beneath the lifted Govardhana Mountain. The storm raged around them with undiminished fury, but within the protection of the mountain, there was perfect safety, perfect calm, and perfect light.

For hours, Krishna held the mountain aloft, his face showing no strain despite the supernatural feat he was performing. He stood there peacefully, appearing no different than usual, as if holding a mountain was the most natural thing in the world. The people beneath the mountain watched him in absolute amazement and wonder. Some wept with gratitude. Some fell to their knees in prayer and worship. Some simply gazed in wonder at the extraordinary nature of what was occurring. Even Nanda and Yashoda, though they had witnessed many miracles before, were overwhelmed by the magnitude of what Krishna had just done. To lift not just a child or small object but an entire mountain, to do so with such casual ease, to do so in order to protect and serve his community—this went beyond any previous demonstration of his power.

When the storm finally passed and the sky cleared, Krishna gently lowered the mountain back to its original position and walked back toward the group with a smile. The villagers emerged from beneath the mountain, their faces transformed by the experience. They had just witnessed something that transcended all categories of human understanding. A child had displayed the power of the Absolute, the power that holds up the entire universe, the power that moves the stars in their courses. The teaching was unmistakable: the divine does not merely observe suffering from a distance but actively intervenes to protect those who belong to it. The Supreme Lord is not separate from creation but intimately involved in the welfare of all beings, particularly those who offer love and devotion.

The incident with Govardhana Mountain became the turning point in the villagers' conscious recognition of Krishna's divine nature. From that day forward, there were those who openly spoke of Krishna as a divine incarnation, though others still maintained the fiction that he was simply an extraordinarily gifted child. Nanda and Yashoda, though they had always harbored certain suspicions about their son's extraordinary nature, now had to consciously acknowledge what they had been resisting: that the child they had raised as their own was not an ordinary boy but the Supreme Personality of Godhead himself. Yet paradoxically, this knowledge did not distance them from Krishna or make him less dear to them. If anything, their love deepened, now infused with the knowledge that they had been granted the extraordinary privilege of raising the infinite being in finite form.