From January 14th through the 19th, our family went on a pilgrimage to three divine places – Dwaraka, Somnath and Porbhander. The following image is that of Sree Krishna in Balka Mandir. Behind Him is the tree (still preserved, they say) under which He was sitting when Jara the hunter mistook His toe for the beak of a bird and shot Him. This incident was supposed to have happened on 18th February, 3012 BCE.
Before Him is the statue of the hunter, bowing in remorse and suppliance. The following poem is based on that divine darshan.
When You were born in Mathura in the middle of the night
To Devaki and Vasudev, imprisoned by Your uncle’s might
Were You sad, my Krishna, were You sad?
When You were taken to a distant village by Your father in haste
So that Your evil uncle, Kams and his soldiers cannot give chase
Were You glad, my Krishna, were You glad?
When You kept killing demons sent repeatedly by Your uncle
And could not play or rest in peace with Your family in Gokul
Were You sad, my Krishna, were You sad?
When You were surrounded by Your loving playmates
And were frolicking with the gopis in forests and glades
Were You glad, my Krishna, were You glad?
When You were invited by Your uncle back to Your hometown
And had to kill his soldiers, wrestlers and finally one of Your own
Were You sad, my Krishna, were You sad?
When You released Your joyous parents from their imprisonment
And Mathura regained her sons, and became independent
Were You glad, my Krishna, were You glad?
When You had to fend off Jarasandha’s mighty akshaunis
And moved Your people to Dwaraka to preserve peace and harmony
Were You sad, my Krishna, were You sad?
When Rukmini Devi appealed to You so lovingly
And You carried her off to Your kingdom willingly
Were You glad, my Krishna, were You glad?
When Your cousins, the noble Pandavas, were tormented ceaselessly
By their evil cousins, egged on by their arrogance and jealousy
Were You sad, my Krishna, were You sad?
When Your conch shell reverberated at the beginning of the mighty fight
And You retold Your divine advice to save us from our earthly plight
Were You glad, my Krishna, were You glad?
When You entire clan started fighting among themselves mercilessly
And You could do nothing but watch them fall into ignominy
Were You sad, my Krishna, were You sad?
When Jara the hunter shot his arrow into Your lotus-hued toe
And You decided that it was time to leave all of us and go
Were You glad, my Krishna, were You glad?
————
I think You were glad, my Krishna, I think You were mighty glad.
As Your divine toe bled, Your merciful eyes were already looking past the sobbing hunter
And seeking Your divine abode where all our souls come eagerly to surrender.
You must be certainly glad, my Krishna, You must be certainly glad
No more taunting, no more fighting, no more advising, no more teasing
No more killing, no more rescuing, no more frolicking, no more convincing.
You went away, beyond these earthly fetters
You fled immediately from us foolish mortals
You ran away from our fleeting, fickle devotion
You rushed away from Your divine incarnation
Yes my Dear Krishna, You were glad. You were mightily glad.
And no matter how bereft, how sad, how empty and how cheated I feel at Your leaving me,
If You are glad, my Krishna, then so am I.