Krishna and the Serpent Kaliya

Told in English, Telugu.

Long, long ago, in the green village of Gokulam, there lived a little cowherd boy named Krishna. He had dark skin like a rain cloud, a peacock feather in his hair, and a flute tucked in his waistband. Every morning, Krishna and his friends took their cows out to graze beside the beautiful river Yamuna.

The Yamuna was cool and blue, and the cows loved to drink from it. But one part of the river was very strange. There, the water bubbled and hissed. Steam rose from it like smoke. No fish swam there, no birds flew over it, and the grass along its banks had turned brown and dry.

Do you know why? Deep down in that pool lived a giant serpent named Kaliya. He had not one head, not two, but many, many heads! And from his mouths came a terrible poison that spread through the water.

One hot afternoon, the cows were very thirsty. Before anyone could stop them, they wandered to that dark part of the river and drank. Some of the boys, tired and thirsty too, scooped up the water in their hands and sipped it.

At once, they all felt dizzy and weak. The cows lay down on the grass. The boys sat down, holding their heads.

Krishna came running. He looked at his friends and his dear cows with gentle, loving eyes. And as soon as Krishna's kind gaze fell upon them, they slowly sat up, blinking, feeling well again.

"Krishna, what happened to us?" asked his friend Sridama.

"It is the poison in the water," said Krishna. "The serpent Kaliya lives in that pool. As long as he stays there, the river will hurt everyone who comes near it."

Krishna looked at the dark, bubbling water. Then he looked at the tall kadamba tree that stood on the bank. Its branches stretched right out over the river.

"I am going to make the Yamuna sweet and clean again," he said.

Before his friends could say a word, Krishna tightened his yellow cloth around his waist, climbed up the kadamba tree, and stood on the highest branch.

"Krishna, no!" shouted the boys.

But Krishna smiled, raised his arms, and jumped! Splash! Down he went, into the deep, dark water.

The water churned and swirled. Down below, Kaliya woke up with an angry hiss. "Who dares to jump into my home?" he roared.

Kaliya rose up with all his heads swaying, his eyes flashing red. He saw the little boy and wrapped his long, heavy body around him, coiling tighter and tighter.

On the riverbank, the boys cried out. One of them ran all the way back to the village. "Come quickly! Krishna has jumped into Kaliya's pool!"

Mother Yashoda dropped the butter pot she was holding. Father Nanda came running. All the people of Gokulam rushed to the river. When they saw that Krishna had not come up, they began to weep. Yashoda wanted to jump into the water herself, but the elders held her back gently.

Only one person stayed calm. It was Krishna's elder brother, Balarama. He put his arm around his mother and said softly, "Do not cry, Amma. Wait and watch. Our Krishna will be all right. Nothing can harm him."

Can you feel how worried everyone was? Let us see what happened next.

Deep in the water, Krishna looked at all the sad faces on the bank. He did not want his mother to cry for even one more moment. So Krishna made himself bigger, and bigger, and bigger. Kaliya's coils stretched and stretched until the serpent had to let go!

In a flash, Krishna leapt up, light as a feather, and landed right on top of Kaliya's heads. And then, do you know what he did?

He began to dance!

Tap, tap, tap went his little feet. He jumped from one hood to another, turning and twirling. His anklets jingled. His peacock feather shone in the sunlight. Every time Kaliya tried to raise a head, Krishna's foot pressed it gently but firmly down again.

Up on the bank, the people stopped crying. Their mouths fell open. Was their little Krishna really dancing on the great serpent? It was the most wonderful sight they had ever seen. Some of them began to clap in time with his steps.

Kaliya grew more and more tired. His hissing became softer. His proud heads drooped low. At last he whispered, "Please stop, little one. I cannot fight anymore."

Just then, Kaliya's wives rose up from the water. They folded their hands and bowed to Krishna.

"O Krishna," they said, "our husband has done wrong. He filled this river with poison and made many creatures suffer. But please, be kind. Spare his life. He has learned his lesson."

Kaliya bowed all his heads. "I am sorry," he said. "I did not know how much harm I was doing. Please forgive me."

Krishna stopped dancing. He stood quietly on Kaliya's head and looked at him with kind eyes.

"I forgive you, Kaliya," said Krishna. "But you cannot stay here. This river belongs to the cows, the birds, the fish, and the children of Gokulam. You must take your family and go to the island of Ramanaka, far away in the ocean."

Kaliya trembled. "But Lord, I came here to hide from Garuda, the great eagle. If I go back, he will chase me."

Krishna smiled. "Do not be afraid. My footprints are now on your heads. When Garuda sees them, he will know you are under my care, and he will leave you in peace."

Kaliya was so happy and thankful. He bowed once more, and then he and his whole family swam away down the river, all the way to the faraway sea.

Krishna stepped out of the water, not even a little bit tired. Yashoda ran to him and hugged him so tightly. "My naughty, brave Kanna!" she cried, kissing his wet cheeks again and again.

And the Yamuna? From that day on, its water was clear, cool, and sweet. The fish came back, the birds sang over it, the grass grew green, and the cows drank happily from it once more.

So, little one, remember Krishna, who was strong enough to stop the serpent, but kind enough to forgive him. Good night, and sweet dreams.