The Birth of Lord Krishna

This is part of the story that the sage Shukadeva told to King Parikshit.

In those days the cruel King Kansa ruled the city of Mathura, while his own father, Ugrasena, suffered in sorrow. Kansa had an uncle named Devaka, and Devaka had a daughter named Devaki. When Devaki was old enough to marry, Devaka went to Kansa and asked him whom she should marry.

“Give her to Vasudeva, the son of Shurasena,” said Kansa.

So Devaka sent for a Brahmin priest, chose a lucky day and sent the wedding gifts to Shurasena’s house. Shurasena, in turn, gathered a splendid wedding procession, with kings from every country, and set out for his son’s wedding. When Ugrasena, Devaka and Kansa heard that the procession was near the city, they rode out with their armies to welcome it and escorted it into Mathura. They greeted the bridegroom with great honour, gave him and his companions rooms in the bride’s house, feasted them all and seated them in a hall built for the occasion and decorated with flowers.

Then Kansa gave Devaki in marriage to Vasudeva, with all the ceremonies the holy books require. For her dowry he gave fifteen thousand horses, four thousand elephants, eighteen hundred chariots, many servants, and golden trays piled with jewelled clothes beyond counting, and he gave jewelled robes to every guest in the procession.

Everyone then set off to take the bride to Vasudeva’s house. But as they went, a voice spoke from heaven: “Kansa, the eighth son of the woman you are escorting will be your ruin. You will die by his hand.”

Kansa shook with fear. In a fury, he grabbed Devaki by the hair, pulled her down from her chariot and snatched up a sword. “A tree that is pulled up by its roots will never flower or bear fruit,” he snarled through his teeth. “I will kill her now and rule without fear.”

Vasudeva saw what was happening and thought to himself, “This fool cannot tell right from wrong. If I lose my temper now, everything will be ruined. It is better to be patient. When an enemy draws his sword, a good man tries to calm him, and the fool comes to his senses and is sorry, just as water puts out a fire.”

So Vasudeva went to Kansa, pressed his palms together and spoke humbly. “Lord of the earth, nobody in the world is as mighty as you, and all men live in your shadow. It is not right for so great a hero to raise his sword against a woman, and it is a terrible crime to kill a sister. Every one of us is born in one place and dies in another. No wealth, no poverty and no royal power can change that. So please listen to me, and let your poor, helpless sister go.”

But Kansa, who saw his sister as the cause of his coming death, only grew angrier.

“This wicked man has the mind of a demon,” Vasudeva thought, “and he is set on doing what he wants. I must find some way to save Devaki.” Then an idea came to him. “I will tell Kansa that I will give him every son she has. Who can see the future? Perhaps there will be no child, or perhaps this demon will die first. We must deal with today’s danger now, and think about tomorrow’s when it comes.”

So Vasudeva said, “Great King, no son of hers shall cause your death, for I promise to bring every son that Devaki has and hand him over to you.”

Kansa agreed, and he let Devaki go. “Vasudeva,” he said, “you have been wise to save me from such a great crime.” And he sent Vasudeva away and went home.

The couple lived in Mathura, and in time Devaki had her first son. Vasudeva carried the baby to Kansa, weeping, and laid him at the king’s feet.

“Vasudeva, you are a man of your word,” said Kansa. “Today I have seen it for myself, for you have not deceived me. You have set aside all your love and brought me your own child. I have nothing to fear from this one. Take him back.” So Vasudeva took the baby, bowed to Kansa and went home.

But just then the sage Narada came to Kansa. “King,” he said, “why did you give the baby back? Don’t you know that all the gods have been born on earth and have come to the land of Braj to serve Vasudeva? When Devaki has her eighth child, Shri Krishna himself will be born, and he will destroy all the demons and lift the burdens of the world.”

Then Narada drew eight lines and counted them, and however he counted, each line in turn could be the eighth. Kansa was frightened, and he sent for Vasudeva and the baby. When Narada had gone, Kansa took the child from Vasudeva and had him put to death. From then on, every time a son was born, Vasudeva brought him to Kansa, and Kansa killed him. Six babies were lost in this way. Then the god, in the form of the great serpent Shesha, came to dwell in Devaki’s womb as her seventh child.

King Parikshit stopped the sage here. “O great one, tell me about Narada,” he said. “He was the cause of so many crimes. Explain it, so that my mind may be at rest.”

“King,” said Shukadeva, “Narada knew very well that Kansa would commit many crimes, and that because of them, the god would come down to the earth all the sooner.”

Then Shukadeva went on with the story.

One day King Kansa sat in his court, called all his demons together and said, “All the gods have been born on the earth, and Krishna will come down among them too. Narada has told me this secret. So go and wipe out the whole family of Yadu, so that not one of them is left alive.”

The demons bowed and went off into the city. They hunted down the people of the Yadu family and seized them wherever they found them, whether they were eating or drinking, standing or sitting, asleep or awake, or going about their business, spreading terror through the settlements. They took on all kinds of frightening shapes and searched every city, village, lane and house. The Yadus, in great distress, fled from their country, taking nothing with them but their lives.

At that time Vasudeva’s other wives, with Rohini among them, left Mathura and went to Gokul, where Vasudeva’s dearest friend, Nanda, lived. Nanda welcomed them warmly, comforted them, and they lived happily in his house.

As Kansa went on troubling the gods and committing terrible crimes, the god Vishnu created a magical being, a power of illusion, out of his own eyes. It came before him with its palms pressed together, and Vishnu said to it, “Go down to the city of Mathura, where the demon Kansa is tormenting those who worship me. He has locked up Vasudeva and Devaki and killed six of their children. The seventh, now in Devaki’s womb, is my companion. Take him from Devaki’s womb, carry him to Gokul and place him in the womb of Rohini so cleverly that no demon will know of it. Then all the people of that land will sing your praises. When you have done this, be born in Nanda’s house. I shall come to Nanda’s house as well.”

The magical being sped to Mathura and slipped into Vasudeva’s house in the form of an enchantress. It secretly took the unborn child and gave him to Rohini, and everyone believed that this was Rohini’s own first child. So on the fourteenth day of the bright half of the month of Shravan, on a Wednesday, Balarama was born in Gokul.

The power of illusion sent Vasudeva and Devaki a dream, in which it told them that it had taken their child from Devaki and given him to Rohini, and that they need not worry at all. They woke up and said to each other, “The god has done well, but we must tell Kansa something, or there is no knowing what pain he may cause us.” So they told their guards, and the guards went to Kansa and said, “Great King, Devaki has lost her baby. No child has been born.”

“Be very careful next time,” said Kansa in alarm, “for it is the eighth child that I dread, the one the voice from heaven spoke of.”

When Shri Krishna came to dwell in Devaki’s womb, the power of illusion went to live in the womb of Yashoda, Nanda’s wife. Both women were expecting babies when Devaki went to bathe in the River Yamuna during a festival. By chance Yashoda came there too, and they met and talked of their troubles. Suddenly Yashoda said to Devaki, “I will keep your child, and give you mine.” Then they both went home.

When Kansa learned that Devaki was expecting her eighth child, he surrounded Vasudeva’s house with demon guards on all four sides. He sent for Vasudeva and said, “Don’t trick me this time. Bring your child to me. I trusted your word before.” Then he put chains and handcuffs on Vasudeva and Devaki, shut them both in one room and fastened lock after lock on the door. He went home, too frightened to eat, and went to sleep hungry. Very early the next morning he went back to look at them.

Seeing that Devaki’s baby would soon be born, he said, “Inside this cave of death lies my destruction. I could kill the mother, but I fear the shame of it, for it would not be right for a king as mighty as I am to kill a woman. Very well, I will destroy her son.” He went outside and set elephants, lions, dogs and his strongest warriors on guard, and he kept watch himself all the time. But he never had a moment’s peace. Wherever he looked, at every hour of the day and night, he saw Krishna in the form of death, and the fear of it kept him anxious day and night.

Meanwhile Vasudeva and Devaki, in their sorrow, prayed to Shri Krishna as the time for the birth came near. The god came to them in a dream and drove away all their fears. He told them that he would soon be born and end all their troubles, and that they should not grieve. When they woke, Brahma, Shiva, Indra and all the gods left their chariots in the sky and came invisibly to Vasudeva’s house. With their palms pressed together, they chanted the holy Vedas in praise of the child who was soon to be born. Nobody could see them, but everyone could hear the music of their chanting. The guards were astonished, and Vasudeva and Devaki felt sure that the god would soon put an end to their troubles.

At the time when Shri Krishna was about to be born, such happiness rose in everyone’s heart that even the word “sorrow” was forgotten. The forests and groves turned green and burst into flower and fruit. The rivers, streams and ponds filled with water. Birds of every kind played and hopped about. There was rejoicing in every city, village and house. The Brahmins made offerings, the guardians of the ten directions were delighted, and clouds rolled over the land of Braj. The gods in their chariots showered flowers from the sky, the heavenly musicians played their drums and pipes and sang, and in one part of the sky the heavenly dancers danced.

So it was that on the eighth day of the dark half of the month of Bhadon, under the star Rohini, on a Wednesday at midnight, Shri Krishna was born. He was the colour of a rain cloud, with a face like the moon and eyes like lotuses. He wore a yellow robe and a crown, and a necklace of jewels, and ornaments set with gems. He had four arms, and in his hands he held a conch shell, a discus, a mace and a lotus. In this form he appeared before Vasudeva and Devaki.

They were amazed, and pressing their palms together, they said humbly, “How fortunate we are that you have shown yourself to us and set us free from the round of birth and death.” Then they told him how Kansa had made them suffer.

“Don’t be anxious any more,” said Shri Krishna, “for I have come down to the earth to take away your sorrows. Carry me now to Gokul. At this very moment Yashoda has had a daughter. Take her and give her to Kansa. Let me tell you why I am going there. Nanda and Yashoda have prayed and fasted with their hearts fixed on me, and they long for the joy of a child. I will stay with them for a while. Later, when I have killed Kansa, I will come back to you. Keep up your courage.”

When he had explained this, Shri Krishna turned into a newborn baby and began to cry, and the vision faded. Vasudeva and Devaki forgot everything they had seen and believed that the baby was simply their own son. They silently vowed to give away ten thousand cows, took the child in their arms and cuddled him. Looking at his face, they sighed deeply and said to each other, “We must find a way to carry this baby off, so that he can escape from that wicked Kansa.”

“Only Brahma himself could keep him safe,” said Vasudeva. “Whatever fate has written will happen.”

Then Devaki pressed her palms together and said, “Your friend Nanda lives in Gokul, and your wife Rohini is there too. Yashoda will help us. Take the baby there.”

“But how can I get free of these heavy chains?” cried Vasudeva in despair.

At that very moment their handcuffs and the chains on their legs fell away, the doors on all four sides flew open, and the guards fell into a deep sleep.

Vasudeva laid Shri Krishna in a basket, lifted it onto his head and set off for Gokul at once. Above him the gods poured down rain, and behind him lions roared. When he reached the great River Yamuna in full flood, he stood on the bank and wondered what to do. “Behind me the lions are roaring, and in front of me flows the bottomless Yamuna. What shall I do now?” he said. Then, fixing his thoughts on the god, he walked into the river. The farther he went, the deeper the water became, until it reached his nose and he was terribly afraid. When Shri Krishna saw how frightened his father was, he stretched out his foot and made a holy sound, “Hoon”, and at the touch of his foot the river grew shallow enough to wade across.

Vasudeva crossed the river and came to Nanda’s house. The doors were open, and everyone inside was asleep. The goddess had sent Yashoda into such a deep sleep that she did not even know she had given birth to a girl. Vasudeva laid Krishna, asleep, beside Yashoda, picked up her baby daughter and hurried back. He crossed the river again and came to where Devaki sat waiting anxiously. He gave her the little girl and told her everything that had happened on the way.

Devaki was overjoyed. “Husband,” she cried, “what does it matter now if Kansa kills us? Our son has escaped from that demon.”

As soon as Vasudeva had brought the baby girl home, the prison doors closed again as before, and the chains and handcuffs fastened themselves on them once more. Then the little girl began to cry. The guards woke at the sound, seized their weapons and raised the alarm. At the noise the elephants trumpeted, the lions roared and the dogs barked. In the darkness and the rain, a guard went to Kansa, pressed his palms together and said, “Great King, your enemy has been born.” At these words Kansa fell to the ground in a faint.

When he came to, Kansa got up, trembling with fear, snatched up a sword and stumbled along, his hair wild and his body soaked in sweat, until he reached his sister. As he seized the baby from her, Devaki pressed her palms together and begged him, “Brother, this baby girl is your niece. Do not kill her, for she is my last child. You have killed my sons, and I grieve for them terribly. Why add to your crimes by killing this baby, who has done nothing?”

“I will not let her live,” said Kansa, “because whoever marries her will kill me.” He carried her outside and was about to dash her to the ground, but she slipped out of his hands, rose up into the sky and called down, “Kansa, what have you gained by trying to kill me? Your enemy has been born somewhere else, and now you will not escape with your life.”

Kansa was filled with regret. He went to Vasudeva and Devaki, had their handcuffs and leg chains cut off, and said humbly, “I have done a great wrong in killing your sons. How shall I ever wash away this stain? In which life shall I ever find salvation? Your gods lied when they said that Devaki’s eighth child would be a boy, for it was a girl, and she has escaped from my hands and gone up to heaven. Have pity on me and do not dwell on my sins, for nobody can rub out what fate has written. Whoever is born into this world must face life and death, good luck and bad. The wise treat life and death alike. You have been true to your word in bringing your sons to me.”

When Kansa kept begging them like this, Vasudeva said, “Great King, you are right. The fault is not yours, for God wrote all that has happened in our fate.”

Kansa was delighted. He took Vasudeva and Devaki to his palace in the friendliest way, entertained them, gave them fine robes and brought them home again with great honour. Then he sent for his counsellor and said, “The goddess says that my enemy has been born. So kill the gods wherever you find them, for they lied to me when they said that my enemy would be Devaki’s eighth child.”

“Great King,” said the counsellor, “that won’t be hard. The gods have been beggars from birth. Show them your anger and they will run away. What power have they to stand against you? Brahma spends every hour lost in thought and prayer. Indra has no power over you. That leaves Narayana, the great Vishnu, who knows nothing about war and spends his time at ease with the goddess Lakshmi.”

“Tell me how to find Narayana and defeat him,” said Kansa.

“If you want to defeat Narayana,” said the counsellor, “destroy everyone whose home he dwells in: the Brahmins, the worshippers of Vishnu, the wandering holy men and hermits with their matted hair, and everyone who prays to Hari. Seize them all, young and old, so that not one is left.”

“Go and destroy them all,” said Kansa.

So the counsellor took every kind of demon with him and went into the city, where they hunted for cows, Brahmins, children and the worshippers of Hari, and harmed them by trickery and force.

Where this story comes from

This retelling follows chapters II to V of The Prem Sagur, translated into English by Captain W. Hollings and published in Calcutta in 1848. The Project Gutenberg edition’s notes describe the work as Lallu Lal’s Hindi translation of Chaturbhuja Misra’s Braj Bhasa version of the tenth book of the Bhagavata Purana. In it, the sage Shukadeva tells King Parikshit the story of Krishna’s life.

Hollings spells the names in an older style, such as Kuns, Dewukee, Basoodeo, Nund, Jusodha and Muttra; here they are written Kansa, Devaki, Vasudeva, Nanda, Yashoda and Mathura. At two points the translation names Jusodha (Yashoda) where Devaki is clearly meant, and these are given to Devaki here. The deaths of Devaki’s babies and the demons’ cruelty are told briefly, without the original’s details; the guards’ muskets become a simple alarm; and a remark about the god Shiva’s habits is left out.

Read the original: Captain W. Hollings, The Prem Sagur (Project Gutenberg #74050, chapters II–V)

Reading guidance: Older teen and adult readers, or an adult-facilitated mature discussion; includes attempted killing of a woman, six infants killed, imprisonment and persecution of a community. The river crossing is supernatural fiction.

A closer reading

Kansa repeatedly enlarges the danger he imagines. A warning about an eighth son becomes a reason to threaten the mother, kill earlier children, imprison the parents and attack a wider community. None of this gives him the peace he seeks. His fear helps explain the plot’s escalation without excusing the choices that make others suffer.

The rescue depends on both divine intervention and human relationships. Chains open and the river becomes passable, but Devaki names a trusted household, Yashoda has already offered help, and Vasudeva carries the child through danger. The telling does not make courage the absence of fear: Vasudeva is frightened as the water rises and continues within the story’s miraculous circumstances.

King Parikshit’s question about Narada makes the moral difficulty explicit. Shukadeva explains the sage’s intervention through the devotional narrative’s plan for divine descent. A reader can identify that explanation while still recognizing the deaths it hastens as a troubling cost. It is not an instruction to produce suffering in the hope that good will eventually follow.

Kansa’s apology does not become sustained change. He releases and honours the parents, speaks about fate, then orders another persecution. His later actions test the sincerity and limits of his remorse. Vasudeva’s agreement under an unequal power relationship should not become a general rule that victims must excuse an aggressor because events were destined.

Try this with the story

Track Kansa’s decisions after three pieces of news: the heavenly warning, Narada’s explanation and the escaping goddess’s message. Record what he fears and whom he targets. Then compare his apology with his next order to decide what evidence would show a lasting change of conduct.

Talk about it

• How does Kansa expand a specific prophecy into threats against many people?
• Which human relationships support the miraculous rescue?
• Why does Parikshit question Narada’s role?
• What happens immediately after Kansa apologizes?
• How can readers distinguish a character’s appeal to fate from responsibility for harmful choices?

More stories like this

• Infant God Krishna Kills Demoness Putana — the next adventure in Krishna’s story, told from the same book
• Kaliya Daman – Krishna Tames The Serpent Kaliya – Indian Mythological Story — another tale of young Krishna from The Prem Sagur