Amarsri is spellbound, Srinav is mesmerized. The gods and goddesses are charmed, while the humans are bewitched. The animals are enthralled, birds are enraptured, and the trees are captivated.
And who wouldn't be? For the supreme God himself has des...
In the warm afternoon sun, Yashoda sat outside her kitchen, a large pot of milk in front of her. She had dismissed all the maids to other tasks, and took the task of making butter for her son, upon herself.
The rhythmic sound of the churning filled the air as she focused on her task, pulling the rope and making butter. As she worked, she heard the sound of anklets approaching. Looking up, she saw her son Krishna walking towards her, his eyes wide and innocent.
His little hands reached out to her, holding the ropes and stopping her from churning further. He said in his sweet voice, "Maiya, bhook lagi."
Overwhelmed by his adorableness, Yashoda couldn't help but smile. She set aside the pot of milk and took Krishna in her arms, sitting down on the ground. She cradled him on her lap, feeling the warmth of his body against her own.
Yashoda began to breastfeed Krishna, the bond between mother and child palpable in the air. The world seemed to fade away as she focused on nourishing her beloved son, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow over them. As Krishna fed, Yashoda looked down at him with a mixture of love and contentment.
But then, the smell of burning milk wafted towards her, jolting her out of her daze. She quickly put Krishna down and rushed to the kitchen, her heart racing with worry.
This sudden change of events made Krishna somewhat angry. His reddish lips quivered. Frustrated and feeling neglected, he picked up a nearby piece of stone and threw it at the pot, on which Yashoda was churning milk, shattering it into pieces. With big made-up tears in his eyes, and a pout on his lips, he went to the other side of the home, trying to satisfy his hunger with old butter kept there.
Soon Yashoda came outside the kitchen and was surprised seeing the shattered pot and the milk and butter spread all over the floor. She knew it was the deed of Krishna, but couldn't stay mad at her dear son. All she could do was laugh at the tantrums which she found extremely adorable.
"Lalla ? Kaha hai ?" She called out and started looking for him in the entire home, calling out his name.
After searching for a while, she finally found Krishna in the storehouse, feeding butter to the monkeys that had gathered around him. Yashoda's eyes widened in shock as she saw the mess he had made. She grabbed a stick that was kept in the corner and approached Krishna with a stern look on her face.
Seeing his mother arrive, all the monkeys scurried out of the storehouse, leaving Krishna alone. Knowing that he had been caught red handed, he started running away, knowing he was in trouble. Yashoda chased after him, determined to teach him a lesson for his mischief.
Due to her age, Yashoda found it hard to run behind him. She started panting, the flowers tied to her hair, started falling behind her. But somehow, she caught up to him and held his hand, stopping him from running forward.
Hearing that, all the qualities of godhood seemed to have left him. Because he was at fault and had been caught redhanded, he started crying uncontrollably. Rubbing his eyes with his small hand, he accidentally spread the kohl of his eyes over his entire face. Expecting to get beaten by the mother, a pure look of restlessness emanated from his lotus eyes.
Seeing how scared her son has become, Yashoda's heart became overwhelmed by motherly love and an instict to protect. She threw her stick aside.
"Ro mat lalla, nahi maarungi mai." She said wiping the tears off his face.
But she knew she must stop him from running away this time and do more mischief. She took him to where giant mortar was kept.
"Yahi rukna." She told him and went away.
Soon, Yashoda returned clutching a sturdy rope in her hands. With determination etched on her face, she knelt down to Krishna's level, ready to secure him to the mortar. However, her efforts were thwarted as the rope fell short by a mere two fingers.
A frown creased her brow, but undeterred, she swiftly fetched another rope and skillfully knotted it with the first one. Once again, she attempted to bind Krishna, only to be met with disappointment as the rope fell short once more.
Confusion clouded Yashoda's mind as she pondered this perplexing predicament. Refusing to give up, she brought out more ropes, intertwining them all together. Yet, no matter how many ropes she gathered, they always fell short, mocking her relentless efforts.
As the commotion unfolded, the Gopis, began to gather around. Some couldn't help but chuckle at Yashoda's tireless endeavors, others stood in awe, their eyes wide with disbelief, unable to comprehend how the rope consistently fell short, defying all logic and reason.
Yashoda used up all the ropes kept in her house, yet she couldn't tie Krishna to the mortar. The lord who was crying before, was now smiling as he observed his mother's futile attempts. Yashoda's perspiration-drenched body, her disheveled hair adorned with fallen flowers, and her sheer exhaustion, Krishna reached out and handed her the ropes. Miraculously, they transformed into the perfect length, just enough to bind him.
Yashoda stood there, bewildered, as she gazed at her son, who smiled knowingly and uttered the words, "Baandh do prem se."
Yashoda couldn't help but smile at his words, her heart filled with love
Yashoda couldn't help but smile at his words, and now with love she was successfully able to tie him up to the mortar.
As she lovingly caressed his bouncy curls, she whispered, "Ab yahi rehna. Mai ghar ke karya kar aati hu."
And so, Yashoda retreated into the house, while the Gopis, after admiring the divine lord for a while longer, dispersed on their separate paths.
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Krishna ko toh sirf prem ke bandhan mei bandha jaa sakta hai 😍🙏
Okay but Krishna crying was so cute and so adorably described in Bhagwatam 🤣🤣🤣
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