The Adventures of A Baby.
Of the Plays between a Mother and a Child.
As discovered in the above story, a newborn baby was swapped with his father’s friend’s child born the same night in a faraway village.
Note: The hows and whys are in the story above, so be sure to check it out for more context. Plus, it is the unlocked archive story of the week!
The friend and his wife are oblivious to the fact that their newborn daughter was exchanged for a baby boy shortly after her birth. They, their household, and the entire village had fallen asleep under the influence of Maya, or Divine Illusion a mystical force, immediately following the baby’s arrival.
Blissfully unaware, the parents awoke to the joy of becoming parents to a beautiful baby boy, who often smiled at them and gurgled with delight when presented with objects that fascinated him.
Marveling at the deep magnetic attraction they felt to the baby, they considered themselves blessed and began to enjoy their baby's antics—as parents are wont to do.
Following tradition, the ladies of the village visited within the first few months to offer their blessings, and ward off any evil eye that may bring him harm.
Soon enough, the baby started to amble around on his hands and legs and understand speech.
The baby had a watcher - an elder brother, who was just old enough to be stern, but not yet old enough to learn he was related to the baby.
He lived nearby and was the son of the father’s first wife, a fact unknown to the adopted parents as well.
The brother adored the baby boy, and appointed himself guardian, much to the chagrin of the baby.
Sometimes, the mother left him with the brother as she saw to the never-ending chores of a chieftain’s large household - food needed to be prepared from scratch including spices, yogurt, butter, rice and wheat flour.
But one of her favorite yet demanding chores was to extract butter by manually churning the cream, which was separated daily from the milk of their healthy cows. This task was made easier by the fact that the chieftain, along with his village, specialized in cowherding and owned extensive herds of cattle.
There was another reason the mother churned the butter in advance: her baby’s fondness for it. The absolute delight on his face upon tasting the freshly churned butter moved her to ensure it was always available.
But his fondness for butter wasn't the only thing the baby enjoyed.
Mischievous from the start, he could never stay still for long. His favorite activity, whenever he was set down, involved exploring his surroundings.
Their home contained a huge backyard, befitting the residence of the affluent village chieftain.
Like many Indian village homes, the yard was filled with mud, but in this affluent home, it was also encircled by lush greenery with a beautiful garden and tall trees along its borders.
The long verandah, supported by multiple round pillars, overlooked the garden. It was here that the mother and her friends would sometimes gather to chat, relax, or complete kitchen chores.
The older brother was overly cautious about the baby’s explorations, hovering nearby to keep an eye out for trouble (which explained the baby’s chagrin!).
Despite this oversight, the baby would still manage to escape and find novel ways to explore his surroundings.
Immersed in his own play, the brother would sometimes look up to find, poof—the baby had disappeared, moving as fast as his tiny hands and feet would allow, across the red sandstone floors, through the open hallways, and finally into the enticing discovery zone of the yard.
The stories of the baby’s explorations require a post each, so today, I shall just focus on one of his adventures.
The mother was busy supervising the kitchen, and herself doing a chore, when suddenly, in burst the brother, exclaiming, “Mother, come quick. Come quick. Krishna has eaten mud. He is eating mud. He won’t listen to me.”
“What?” His mother rose in a panic. She dropped everything she was holding, plates clattering to the ground, and ran - such is the heart of a mother, whether in ancient times or modern; the baby rules supreme over all other needs.
Running barefoot through the kitchen and the large house, skirting some pillars, and lightly holding another for balance, her saree billowing in the wind, she followed the elder brother to the yard.
She stood still for a second, taking in the scene.
Her heart's dearest, without whom she could not live, sat in the dirt, adorned with the jewels she had placed on him just a few hours earlier. He wore the colorful baby-sized dhoti she had lovingly picked out, sans a shirt due to the hot weather. His hair was tied up in a knot atop his head, with a tiny peacock feather tucked into it.
His mouth dripped mud at the corners, his right hand clenched a fistful of mud, while his left hand swept the mud, swiping left to right. As his mother arrived, he looked up gleefully, as if to say, “Look at the fun I'm having!”
Aghast, the mother stumbled in her haste to reach her child. Scooping him up, she scolded him as she brought him onto the verandah and sat him down. “Krishna, what have you done? Why are you eating mud? Don't I give you enough butter that you must eat mud?”
She felt guilty for being preoccupied in the kitchen, leaving her child to fend for himself, and assumed that was the cause of this incident.
But the baby denied eating mud. He vehemently shook his head and immediately placed his tiny hands behind his back.
She slowly removed his hands and began cleaning the mud off his tiny right hand first, then his left.
"Your brother, Balrama, says you ate mud. Did you?"
The baby shook his head again. The elder brother was forgotten.
"Then what is this near your mouth?" She used the end of her expensive saree to wipe the mud dripping from the corner of his mouth.
The baby submitted to her ministrations while watching her face for signs of anger.
The mother was indeed angry. She said, “Krishna, do not lie to me. Open your mouth, I want to see.”
The baby still shook its head and refused to open it.
The mother, though noticing the guilty look and feeling endearing towards her child, recognized the need for discipline. She firmly forced the baby’s mouth open wide to check for mud.
She peered closely, but instead of mud, in her baby’s mouth, she found entire galaxies, universes, solar systems, and outer space, with planets rotating on their axis. She beheld the blackness and vastness of space, and the entire Universe—meta-universes containing all universes—in the tiny mouth opened wide.
Unable to comprehend the enormity of what she was seeing, she fell into a stupor and nearly fainted.
The baby closed his mouth and just smiled.
The brother, relieved the situation was in adult hands, had become distracted with some other play.
When she regained her composure, she looked up and saw the baby playing nearby.
She had no memory of what she had witnessed.
Surprised to find herself on the verandah, she recalled cleaning mud off the baby's hands. She shook her head at her forgetfulness.
Picking up her baby boy, she led them both back into the kitchen to give them water and butter.
First, of course, she washed the baby’s hands.
Notes:
Many saints have used this incident in devotional hymns to showcase his attributes and divine acts.
His adopted mother, Yashoda, was blessed to have the joy of raising Krishna and witnessing him in the unique form of a baby, behaving like any other human baby. In contrast, his birth mother, Devaki, did not have that privilege due to her imprisonment. This contrast is culturally referenced in some contexts to highlight the greatness of adopted mothers over birth mothers.
The act of Krishna, the Preserver-God, showing his mother the entire meta-set of universes is considered one of the most famous incidents in Krishna’s life, an extremely beautiful act of love for his mother. He blessed her by revealing his true form as the Preserver-God. However, he also assisted her in forgetting, allowing her to continue in her role as his mother, as it suited his divine play.
Krishna is regarded as the most complete incarnation because he was always aware of his divinity as the Preserver-God and was born with the complete set of attributes of the Preserver-God. This incident further illustrates why.
Jayshree, thank you for this enchanting story that truly captivated me! I resonate with the childhood memory of consuming freshly churned butter. When I was growing up, my grandparents owned several dairy cows, and we frequently churned our own butter. It was always my favorite treat.
FYI: For those, such as me, of limited familiarity with Indian dress (I know what a sari is but much beyond that, I've got nothin'.), I wikipediaed and "Dhoti: The dhoti, also known as veshti, mardani, dhotar, jaiñboh & panchey, is a type of garment, fastened in between the legs in a manner that it resembles trousers in shape, it may be fitted loosely but other tighter fittings are worn as well. It is most popular in India and Nepal. "