Parāçara said:—Sakra having departed, the cow-herds, on seeing him
uplift the mountain Govardhana, said to Krishna of wonderous deeds,
delightedly:—"O thou of mighty arms, thou hast saved us from a great
fear; by holding up the mountain thou hast protected the cows. Wonderful
are thy childish sports and insignificant is the condition of a herdsman
and all thy actions are those of a god. Tell us what is the meanings of
all this. Kaliya has been vanquished in the water; Pralamba has been
killed; Govardhana has been lifted up; our minds are filled with
surprise. We can swear by the feet of Hari, O thou of unbounded might,
that beholding thy powers we do not consider thee as man. O Kesava, the
woman, the children and the old of Vraja are all pleased with thee—even
all the celestials cannot perform the deeds thou hast done. Thy boyhood
and thy prowess; thy humiliating birth amongst us, are contradictions
that fill us with surprise whenever we think of them. Be thou a god, or
a demon or a Yaksha or a Gandharva, or whatever, we may consider thee,
we should respect thee for thou art our friend".
When they had finished, Krishna remained silent for some time as if hurt
and wounded and then said to them, "Herdsmen, if you are not ashamed of
my relationship, if I have deserved your praise, then what necessity
have you to discuss thus concerning me? If you have any love for me, if
I merit your praise, then consider me as your friend. I am neither a
god, nor a Gandharva nor a Yaksha nor a demon—I am born as thy friend
and you should not think otherwise of me".
Parāçara said Being addressed thus, O great Muni the cow-herds remained
silent and went into the woods leaving Krishna apparently displeased.
Beholding the clear sky with the autumnal moon, and the air perfumed
with the fragrance of the wild water-lily in whose buds the clustering
bees were murmuring their songs, he felt inclined to join with the
females of cow-herds in sport. Thereupon with Rāma he began singing
sweet low strains in various measures such as the woman loved; and they,
as soon as they heard the music, left their homes and hastened to meet
the Slayer of Madhu. One damsel gently sang an accompaniment to his
song, another attentively listened to his music: one called him by the
name and then shrank in bashfulness: whilst another, more bold and
prompted by love, pressed close to his side; one, as she came out, saw
some of the seniors of her family and dared not venture satisfying
herself with meditating on Krishna with closed eyes and whole-minded
devotion by which immediately all acts of merit were effaced by rapture
and all sin was expiated by regret at not seeing him: and others again,
reflecting upon the cause of the world, in the form of the Supreme
Brahma, obtained, by their sighing, final emancipation. Thus encircled
by the females of cow-herds Krishna thought the lovely moon-light night
of autumn suited to the Rāsa[259] dance. Many of them so imitated the
different actions of Krishna that in his absence they wandered through
Vrindavana representing his person. "I am Krishna" exclaims one "behold
the beauty of my movements". "I am Krishna" cries another "Listen to my
song". "Wait! wicked Kāliya, I am Krishna" cries out another striking
her arms defiantly. A fourth cries out: "Herdsmen, fear nothing, be
steady, there is no danger of the storm any more for I uplift the
Govardhana for your protection," and a fifth exclaims—"Now let the
cattle graze wherever they will, for I have slain Dhenuka". In this wise
the females of the cow-herds imitated the various actions of Krishna,
and in his absence removed their sorrow by mimicking his sports. One
damsel, looking on the earth with the down of her person erect and
expanded eyes, exclaims "See here are the impressions of Krishna's feet
and as he has gone, he has left those marks of the banner, the
thunder-bolt and the goad. What fortunate damsel is going with him
inebriate with her passion as her irregular footmarks prove? Here
Damodara has called flowers from on high, for we see alone the marks of
the tips of his feet. Here a nymph has sat down with him be-decked with
flowers, fortunate in having propitiated Vishnu in a pristine birth.
Having left her in a haughty mood because he had adored her with
flowers, the son of Nanda has gone by this road; for see, unable to
follow him with equal steps his companion has here tripped along upon
her toes; and that holding his hand, the damsel has passed on is evident
from the uneven and intermingled footsteps. The wicked Krishna merely
took her by the hand and then left her. The damsel, being disappointed,
is returning in faltering steps—for such her foot-marks indicate.
Forsooth he proposed to her that he would come back soon, for here are
his own footsteps returning with speed. Here he has entered the thick
forest but as the rays of the moon do not enter here his footsteps can
be traced no farther". Being hopeless of beholding Krishna, the females
of the cow-herds came back and arriving at the banks of the Yamuna, they
began to sing his songs. They immediately saw the protector of the three
worlds, with a smiling countenance, coming speedily towards them, on
which one cried out "Krishna, Krishna" being unable to utter any thing
else. One liked to contract her forehead with frowns as drinking with
the bees of her eyes the lotus of the face of Hari: another, shutting
her eyes, meditated, in her mind, upon his form as if being engaged in
an act of devotion. Thereupon coming amongst them Mādhaba conciliated
some with soft words some with gentle looks and some he took by the hand
and the illustrious deity sported with them in the stations of the
dance, after all the damsels had been propitiated. As each of the
damsels attempted to remain in one place close to the side of Krishna,
the circle of the dance could not be constructed. Thereupon taking each
by the hand and when their eyelids were closed by the effects of such
touch Hari formed the circle. Then began the dance in accompaniment with
the music of their clashing bracelets and songs that celebrated in sweet
melody the beauty of the autumnal season. Krishna sang the moon of
autumn, a mine of gentle rays but the damsels chanted the praise of
Krishna only. At times, one of them exhausted by the revolving dance,
threw her arms, adorned with the tinkling bracelets round the neck of
the Slayer of Madhu: another proficient in the art of singing his
praises embraced him. The drops of perspiration from the arms of Hari
were like fertilizing rain which produced a drop of dew upon the temples
of the damsels of cow-herds. Krishna sang the melody that was suited to
the dance. The damsels again and again repeated—"Bravo, Krishna," to his
song. When leading, they followed him, when coming back, they met him
and whether he went forwards or backwards they always followed his
footsteps. Whilst sporting thus with the females of the cow-herds, they
regarded one moment in his absence as a myriad of years. And although
prohibited in vain by their husbands and brothers, they went out in
night to sport with Krishna, the idol of their affection. Thus the deity
of unbounded prowess, the remover of all imperfections, assumed the
character of a youth amongst the damsels of Vraja, pervading their
natures and that of their lords, by his own essence all diffusive like
the wind, for even as in all creatures the elements of ether, fire,
water, and air are comprehended, so also is he everywhere present and in
all.