তোমারে বধিবে যে, গোকুলে বাড়িছে সে।"
The storm brewed that night over the dark waters of the Yamuna. The waning moon hid behind the thundering grey clouds that covered the skyline of Mathura, hovering over the palace, and the tides ebbed and flowed, crashing against the stone walls of the Vrishni fort of the Bhojapatis that held Kamsa's fate captive. Shackled by fate, freed by divine intervention, Yadava Vasudeva knew he had to save the newborn son, his eighth infant with Devaki, Kamsa's sister, before the king killed the child. Little did he know, in his arms wailed not a fragile baby but a divine Avatar of Lord Vishnu, ready to change the course of destiny. But the Yamuna raged that night in the calamity. It looked as if some kind of apocalypse was coming the way of Mathura. In the incessant rainfall, he waded through the water of the Yamuna, rising to his neck, his hand over his head, firmly holding the basket where he placed the newborn. Worried that the rain lashed on his baby, little did Vasudev know that above his head, a divine umbrella protected the baby. The baby cooed, unbothered as the rain and storm lashed around him, and the hood of the divine serpent kept him dry. The five-faced Sheshnag, with his slender tongue, beady eyes and protective hood, watched the newborn stare at him, as though he recognised him from another time, another life and another story. It was as though when eyes locked, a promise was made between the infant and the serpent, of brotherhood and protection in the life that was to come. In a world of war, hatred, turmoil and divide his purpose was not only to witness the biggest battle but also to be the epitome of Love beyond boundaries of class, society, marriage and reciprocation. His life would be an odd contrast of love and war, twists and turns. That night of Janmashtami was just a glimpse of it.
© Suranya
