ॐ कृष्णाय नमः
OM Krishnaya Namah
I bow before you, O Krishna!
It was a bright and sunny morning. Krishna had been up since, early dawn. Krishna and his friends would often creep out of their houses early, when the sun was barely visible. They would run off into the open fields and start their day with laughter and lots of mischief.
Krishna would usually be the first to arrive. That day too he arrived well before the others. Krishna, well known for playing pranks, decided to play one on his friends. He hid behind a thick clump of bushes and sat very quietly waiting for the arrival of his cowherd buddies.
He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long. All the children loved to get out and play. Usually the boys would bring along with them a young calf. This was a precautionary measure in case their parents questioned as to why they had left home so early. They would glibly and innocently reply, “We got up early and thought we could take the new calf out for a feed of fresh grass and give her a clean wash down too.”
Sure enough minutes after Krishna arrived the other boys also started arriving at their favourite playfield. As Krishna, their ring leader, didn’t seem to be there they went about tethering the calves and wiping the little baby animals. Krishna had been waiting for just this moment. He had collected a bunch of jasmine flower balls. Taking one out, but still remaining hidden, he threw a flower ball at one of them.
Plonk, the ball knocked a boy on top of his head. Annoyed at being hit, the boy turned around to his friend and in an irritated voice shouted, “Hey, why did you hit me?”
The other boy who had no idea what his friend was talking about exclaimed, “What? Hit you? I never hit you. What are you taking about? I was busy caring for Lali, my calf.” He then turned back to wipe Lali.
Delighted with the joke Krishna shot off another jasmine flower ball, but this time it was aimed at the boy who had denied hitting the other boy. Phutt, the ball hit the boy right in the middle of his forehead. Startled the boy turned to the first one and said, “I told you I never hit you. Why are you now hitting me?”
The first boy looked very puzzled and answered, “I didn’t hit you. Why would I hit you when I believed you when you said you had not hit me?”
Obviously the flower balls had not fallen from the skies. So the two boys knew that there could be only one answer to the flower ball attack. They knew that there could only be one culprit responsible for this mischief - Krishna. Stifling their laughter, they silently began collecting some flower balls and hiding them in their waist bands.
Once they had gathered enough ammunition the boys called out in unison, “Krishna, Krishna we know you are here. Come out of your hiding place.”
From behind the bushes they could see the tip of the peacock feather that Krishna always clipped on to his headband. The boys got ready to aim their flower missiles at him. In another moment Krishna’s mischievous smiling face popped up and a barrage of soft white balls flew in all directions. A merry battle of jasmine flower balls ensued as more and more of Krishna’s friends joined in.
Exhausted after this great battle the boys flopped down on the dewy grass laughing till their sides hurt. Krishna then took out his bamboo flute and began playing some melodious tunes. The soft notes enticed more of his friends to join the group - the monkeys, the beautiful peacocks, the tiny squirrels, the deer and all the other animals in the vicinity. The warbling birds, up in the trees joined in to sing along too. Krishna was so endearing that no-one could resist his charm.
Krishna had many friends and spent several hours playing and keeping them entertained. That day too they were all having a merry time when one of his friends called out to Krishna, ‘”Krishna, Krishna I just passed your house and I smelt the aroma of fresh butter being made by your mother.”
This was like a clarion call for Krishna. He loved butter especially when it was made fresh by his mother, Yashoda. Not wasting a moment little Krishna sped back home. After washing up, he went and sat close to his mother in order to be able to get the first taste of the newly made butter. While mother Yashoda was churning the curd for butter, Krishna did not leave her side. He wanted to be there till the butter was made so that he could be the first to be given his share. He watched as the creamy white of the curd gradually gave way to the glimmering white of butter. As he watched his mother he grew hungrier and hungrier.
Just then he heard a woman’s voice call out, ''Mangoes, sweet mangoes, golden mangoes, ripe mangoes. Come and buy these tasty delicious mangoes.”
Krishna's father, Nanda, who was in the house heard the fruit seller. He stepped out. Beckoning her, he said, “Put down your basket and let me take a look at the fruit you are selling.”
The fruit seller was happy to find a buyer for her mangoes. Walking up to the main door of the house she quickly set her basket down. She had brought some of the freshest juiciest mangoes. Nanda began to pick up one piece at a time examining them for firmness, colour and quality. The aroma of the mangoes began to fill the room. The already hungry Krishna was lured away from his mother’s side by the scent of the sweet mangoes. Hiding behind the door Krishna intently watched his father select the fruits that he wanted.
The fruit seller noticed the little lad watching the whole transaction keenly. She marvelled at his exquisite eyes, his glowing skin and his thick, black, glossy hair. “What a beautiful child,” she thought to herself. She smiled at the little boy and Krishna readily smiled back at her. As his lips broke into a wide grin, his pearly white teeth gleamed and his eyes sparkled with joy. The fruit seller was mesmerised.
In those days many things were bought and sold by a system of barter. Barter was when a person traded one item for another. The fruit seller accepted grain as payment for the fruit. So once Nanda had picked out the fruit he wanted, he said to the woman, “Please wait a moment while I go inside and bring you the grain. Would a basket of grain be sufficient payment for these mangoes?”
"Oh yes,” said the woman, “I don’t usually even get a full basket of grain. Most people only give me half a basket for the mangoes.”
Little Krishna was intrigued by the sale and followed his father to the granary. There he watched his father measure out the grain and put it into a basket. His father then handed over the wicker basket filled with grain to the fruit seller and took the mangoes into the house.
The woman, pleased with her sale, started collecting the remaining fruit and putting them into her basket.”
Krishna in the meantime had run back into the granary and picked up as much grain as his tiny hands would hold. He then squeezed his fists tightly so as not to let even one grain slip out and rushed back to the main door where the fruit seller was packing up. She was just about to lift her baskets when Krishna said, “Amma, I would also like to buy your mangoes. How many mangoes will I get for this? he said, opening out his small fists and pouring a tiny amount of grain into her basket.
The woman smiled at Krishna and said, “Child, I am so happy that you too want to buy my fruit. Please take a look or else I could choose the best I have for you. How many would you like to have?”
Krishna looking very serious replied, “I would like you to choose for me. Give me only what I should get for the amount of grain I have given you.”
Though the amount of grain Krishna had managed to bring in his small hands would not have got him even one small sized mango, the fruit seller in all seriousness replied, “Yes of course. That seems fair.”
Then she picked out two of the best and most flavoursome mangoes from her basket and carefully placed one in each of Krishna’s little hands. Krishna opened his palms as wide as he could to accommodate the fruit and then wrapping his small fingers he gripped on to the mangoes firmly. Walking carefully so as not to drop the fruit, the happy boy went in to appease his hunger with those tasty mangoes. This would keep him going until his mother’s butter was ready to eat.
The fruit seller left humming a happy tune for she had made a good sale and had met an incredibly charming child. Thoughts of the little boy kept her in high spirits all day. Not just that, her remaining fruit too sold off very quickly. Balancing the now empty fruit basket on her head she dexterously placed the baskets of grain on her hip and merrily walked off home.
Strangely she began to notice that as she neared home the basket on her head kept increasing in weight. She could not quite understand how this was possible as she had no fruit in it. But she did not want to waste time checking. So instead she headed quickly back home. When she got home she put down the baskets of grain first. Then sitting down on her haunches she slowly lowered the heavy fruit basket from her head. By now it was so heavy that she needed to use both her hands to do so.
When she put it down she could hardly believe her eyes. “My goodness,” she exclaimed, “What is this in my basket? How did so many gold coins, gems and jewels fill my empty basket? I have never seen so much wealth in all my life.”
The fruit seller was so bewildered that she sat down and gasped for breath. She had never ever imagined she would have so much gold. She knew that with riches like this she would never have to work again for the rest of her life.
In a flash she realised that the little boy she had met that day had been no ordinary child. She knew in her heart that she had been blessed with an encounter with God. The child was divine. He had blessed her and for that she would be grateful for ever.
She lit a lamp in her small house and thanked the Lord for blessing her and looking after her. She decided that she would use her wealth to look after her family and all her near and dear ones. But she would continue to work, going from door to door to sell her sweet fruit because it was her work that had brought her the good fortune of meeting the Lord.
For the simple fruit vendor, it was not the basket overflowing with precious gold and gems that she valued. It was the blessed encounter with God, Lord Krishna, that she would treasure for all her living days.
LIFE LESSONS
1. Like the fruit seller we must work honestly and sincerely.
2. Like the fruit seller we should be generous.
3. Like the fruit seller we should be grateful for what we receive.
4. Like Krishna we should enjoy life and keep others happy and joyful too.
5. Like Krishna we should be ready to pay for anything we receive. We can pay with our money, with kindness, with our time, by helping others or in whatever way we choose. But it’s important not to expect free hand-outs from others.
6. Like the fruit seller we must always remember that wealth and money will come and go but God will never leave you. Krishna will always remain by your side.
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