KRISHNA CORIOLIS#4: Lord of Mathura (12 page)

He turned and looked out at the lake. 

He saw the water swirling darkly. At once that it was no ordinary eddy or backwash. There was something under the surface, rising up fast, something big. Though he had been playing and enjoying himself as much as the others, he had developed a preternatural alertness. In a way, he considered himself Krishna’s early warning bell. 

He turned to shout to those nearest to it to get out of the water. 

But before he could open his mouth, a gopi swimming in the water, carrying her little son on her shoulders, happened to look down. She saw the dark water rising beneath her and screamed a blood-curling scream. 

‘OUT! OUT OF THE WATER, EVERYONE!’ Balarama bellowed, running around the shore, pulling those in the water to dry land, wading into the shallows to help others get out quicker. 

He didn’t need to glance around to see where Krishna was: Krishna would be arriving as fast as his feet could carry him. That went without saying. Balarama’s job was to get these innocents away from the new threat as quickly as possible without anyone coming to harm. 

With a sinking heart, he saw that it would be quite impossible. There were too many people in the water, many of them children and elders incapable of coming out quickly. And from the swirling in the center of the lake, the thing that was emerging was coming much too fast. 

More than that, it was big, bigger than any underwater creature had any right to be. How had it been there underwater all this while without anyone noticing, he could not fathom. Then again, the lake was extremely deep in some spots, perhaps even deep enough to contain an underwater monster without anyone ever suspecting. So long as the creature stayed out of sight until the opportune moment, it was undetectable. 

He cursed, wishing he had had the foresight to dive into the lake and delve as deep within its depths as possible before they began swimming. That way, he might have found something amiss and been quicker to alert everyone. 

‘OUT! EVERYONE, HURRY!’ he shouted. But they were still moving too slowly, confused by the splashing and hampered by moving through water. 

He splashed into the lake, helping an elderly couple to wade, gasping, to where their younger family members could help them ashore. He glanced back and saw that already people were climbing the hill, still dripping from the lake, eager to move as far away as possible from the imminent threat. That was reassuring. After the last few encounters with demons, there was no telling how large this new creature might be or what form it took and the larger the area left deserted, the better the chances were of innocents staying safe. 

He helped a pair of young children out of the water, grasping each by one hand apiece and swinging them to their mothers on shore. He sensed movement beside him and knew without looking that it was Krishna. 

‘Took your time,’ he said, grumbling. He had seen his brother on the hilltop, playing his flute and talking to Radha. 

‘What do we have?’ Krishna asked, picking up an elderly gopi and carrying him like a babe to safety. He set the elder down carefully, nodded his head in acknowledgement of the profuse thanks and blessings, and splashed into the water again to assist the next person. 

‘Something big, mean and ugly would be my guess,’ Balarama said, taking a young tyke off his father’s shoulders as the father struggled to manage two other young children. 

‘Get everyone to the top of the hill first, make sure they’re all safe, then head back to the village.’

Balarama picked up a hefty young boy who was too panicked to swim properly and all but hurled him to his parents’ arms. They caught him and shouted their blessings to Balarama. ‘I’m staying with you, brother. You may need my help!’

‘They need your help more than I do,’ Krishna shouted back from several yards away. He was pulling a raft with a dozen-odd youngsters on board, all of whom were too terrified of the swirling water to swim back to shore. ‘Top of the hill, then back home!’

Balarama gritted his teeth in frustration. He was tired of playing nursemaid. He could lift ten times what the strongest grown man in the village could lift, throw as many times as far as the best pitcher, and was stronger and faster and a better fighter than even the veterans. Yet everytime there was a crisis, all he seemed to do was carry little children on his shoulder and urge everyone to move ‘faster, faster’. 

But he knew better than to argue with Krishna at a time like this. So he busied himself with getting the last of the stragglers ashore. Then he turned and looked at the lake. 

9

KRISHNA
was in the lake, treading water, and it was all he could do to keep from being pulled along with the swirling eddy. It was no longer just a swirling, or even an eddy. This was a full-blown whirlpool, spinning madly around with great force and speed. Already it covered more than half the surface of the lake, and still it grew, increasing in fury and force as if some enormous invisible butter churner were churning the lake. Children were sobbing and screaming as their elders led them away from the lake. 

Krishna could hear Balarama’s voice bellowing behind him, herding their people to safety. Then the sound of the whirlpool increased, the water churning with a frenzy that could only be described as madness, frothing and bubbling and eddying in gouts that spouted unexpectedly like boils bursting upon the back of a great beast. The sound itself resembled some furious whirlwind trapped in the lake, as if a dervish was struggling to break free. 

Krishna felt the whirlpool suck at his legs, drawing him in. He fought the current, but the force was prodigious, like a storm centred upon the lake. It was then that he realized that the beast that lay under the lake was not seeking to burst free. It was seeking to suck people
in
. Down to its depths. Into its natural habitat. 

He glanced around and was relieved to see nobody left behind. Balarama had cleared everyone to safety. They were climbing the hill even now, struggling to reach the top. He heard the shouts and cries of those who had reached the top already, calling to those still climbing to hurry. He heard his own name called out time and again and knew that every pair of eyes was seeking him out, every heart anxious for his well-being. That was what was at stake here: not merely the lives of those he loved and cared about, but the survival of mortalkind itself, and of the values and principles that made mortalkind worth saving. The concern for all loved ones, even if one happened to be invulnerable, indomitable, or, as in his case, God incarnate. 

Krishna knew what he had to do to deal with this attack. If the beast would not come up to face him, he would have to go down to meet the beast. 

He relaxed his body, ceasing to fight the sucking claws of the whirlpool. 

He allowed the vortex to take him in, into the heart of the eye of the storm, into the lair of the underwater beast. 

He sucked in one last gasp of air, not because he needed it to survive but because he wanted to taste air before he went into battle. The water engulfed him and the skin of the lake closed above him. 

All sound changed. Gone was the music of the earth, the song of Bhoodevi. 

Instead, he was left with only the ballad of the beast. A deep watery keening that was as sad as a dirge and as desperately hopeless and fatalistic as an end-of-the-world dance. It was a strange and terrible song and he knew that this asura would be no easy opponent like the last one. This one was a singer of death. 

He opened his mouth wide and swam down to meet it. He had a verse or two he wished to sing to it himself. 

10

Radha
watched with her heart in her mouth as Krishna plunged into the whirlpool. From this vantage point at the top of the hill, the maelstorm looked like a gigantic eye in the lake, as if some unimaginably huge monster was gawking out through a hole in the earth to peer up at heaven. The water itself was swirling so swiftly and angrily, boiling and raging, that she could not understand how Krishna could even withstand its pull. When he finally took one deep breath and plunged in, she reached out with one hand, suppressing a shout by covering her mouth with her other hand. She remained that way for several moments, willing Krishna to reappear…now…now…now…

He didn’t appear. 

The last of the stragglers reached the top of the hill. Those who had not been by the lake had arrived as well, and all the inhabitants of Vrindavan hamlet now stood atop the hill overlooking the lake. Balarama pushed a pair of young tykes up to the top and glanced over the entire group before turning to look downwards. She could see his own anxiety and frustration in his fair features. She knew Balarama was no less brave and strong than his brother and enjoyed fighting much more than Krishna, yet he was always the one given the task of shepherding the flock while his dark-skinned brother fought the demons. She could guess how frustrating it must be for Balarama and admired his fortitude and loyalty. Even now, his full attention was focussed on ensuring that everyone was present and accounted for, and only when he was certain his task was successfully accomplished did he turn to see how the battle fared. 

There was not much they could see from up here. The water continued to churn and swirl furiously. From time to time a spout of water spewed up, sometimes rising several score yards in the air, topping even the tallest lakeside trees, before falling back in a plume of spray. But mostly, the maelstorm raged and boiled and spun around as if it would never cease. 

Finally, after several minutes had passed, Balarama started asking everyone to move on, to head home to the village. Many protested weakly but succumbed to his commands: all Balarama had to say was ‘Krishna said’ and nobody would argue the point. Every family had young ones or elders or both and everyone knew that if the battle came this way, there would be no time to get the slowpokes out of harm’s way in time. As it was, they were lucky simply to have gotten free of the lake without a single casualty. There were a few minor injuries and some broken limbs, including a pair of broken legs as a result of running away from the lake too fast while looking back over one’s shoulder: that was little Samit who had a habit of running races that way as well, and had fallen before for the same reason, though never this badly. 

Most were shaken and bruised but otherwise unharmed. Many were praising Krishna for having saved them yet again and praying for his speedy triumph over this new calamity. Radha thought of reminding them that it was Balarama who had first seen the disturbance and gotten everyone out, but realized there was no need. They all knew Balarama’s contribution was considerable, but regarded the older brother as a part of the term ‘Krishna’. It was the way one said ‘Thank God’; you didn’t need to say ‘Thank all the Gods.’

They began the long trek back homewards. Radha turned her head to watch as the procession wound its way towards the village. Balarama was the last one, bringing up the rear. He turned and saw Radha still on the hill and frowned, beckoning to her. 

She folded her arms on her chest, firmly. 

‘I’m saying,’ she said. 

Balarama shook his head. ‘Krishna said…’

‘You’ll have to carry me kicking and screaming if you want me to go home,’ she said. ‘And I bite too.’

He looked at her for a long moment, a sceptical expression on his face. 

She made two fists of her hands and raised them in a fighting stance. 

He grinned. ‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘Don’t be stupid. I’m staying. Take the others and go home.’

He looked at her a moment longer. ‘He will kill me if anything happens to you.’

She raised her fists higher. ‘I will kill you if you try to make me leave.’

He thought about it for another moment, then shrugged. ‘Remember to tell Krishna later that you said that.’

She lowered her fists. ‘I’ll tell him I fought and beat you and you cried for your mother and ran back all the way home.’

He grinned. ‘That will do too.’ 

He turned away, shouting to the rear enders to move faster. 

Radha turned back to look down at the lake. She had on intention of budging from here until she knew her Krishna was safe and sound. 

12

KRISHNA
was being given the battle of his life. Putana had been no match for him. Her only real weapon had been her poison milk and once he consumed that and survived, she had nothing left. The other asuras each had some special power or unique ability. But this asura was remarkable. 

For one thing, it was a serpent of mythic proportions. He could not tell exactly how long its body extended but he could only guess it went on for at least a mile or two. That in itself was not unique: Aghasura had been far bigger in terms of sheer size. The difference here was that this demon was a water serpent. And its venom was lethal. Almost as toxic as Putana’s poison. It was extraordinarily strong as well, and its multitude of heads was something he had never imagined possible. Each time he wrestled a new head away from himself, or prevented one from sinking its fangs into his body, beating it aside or crushing it with his hands or feet, a new one popped up, and another, and yet another. This had been going on ever since he had descended into the maelstorm. 

That was the other thing: The demon was able to twist around at a speed to match any tornado, except that it could do so underwater. In that way, it was as unique as Bakasura, whose special ability had been the manipulation of wind.