Many thousands of years ago, the city of Mathura in northern India was ruled by a powerful and evil demon called Kansa. The people of Mathura and of the surrounding villages were terrified of Kansa, and tired of his cruelty. It seemed that there was no one on earth brave and strong enough to defeat Kansa. Kansa seemed invincible.

But Kansa did have one soft spot, and that was his fondness for his sister Devaki. Devaki was good, kind and gentle, as unlike the cruel Kansa as possible. When Devaki was old enough, it was arranged that she would marry Vasudev, a good and noble man who was a follower of Vishnu, and did not fear the demon Kansa at all. Kansa, despite his evil ways, held Vasudev in great respect. So Kansa rejoiced at Devaki’s marriage with Vasudev, and celebrated the wedding with everyone else.

But suddenly, as the wedding ceremony came to an end, a voice was heard, a voice which seemed to come from the sky, and which filled the great hall and awed all those who stood there. ‘The marriage of Devaki and Vasudev shall be blessed, for of this union shall be born eight sons,’ said the voice. ‘But let the demon Kansa beware: Devaki’s eighth son will be his end.’

The entire gathering was thrown into fear and confusion. Kansa’s rage knew no bounds. The ground shook with his fury. ‘Who dared speak such sacrilege?’ he roared. But even in his anger Kansa recognised the voice of destiny, and he was afraid. ‘Throw them into prison,’ he thundered, pointing at Devaki and Vasudev. ‘Let them be watched every minute of the day for the rest of their lives!’ Kansa’s demon soldiers surrounded Devaki and Vasudev and took them off to the deepest, most secure dungeon in Kansa’s palace.

Devaki and Vasudev lived in the dungeon, watched night and day by Kansa’s soldiers. Many years passed. Devaki gave birth to six sons, one after another. Kansa killed each child within minutes of its birth.

When Devaki was expecting her seventh child, Vasudev prayed long and hard to Vishnu. ‘Save this child,’ he prayed. ‘Don’t let Kansa kill all our sons!’ Vishnu heard his prayers, and magically transferred the baby into the womb of Rohini, another wife of Vasudev. Soon Rohini gave birth to the baby, Devaki’s seventh son. He was called Balram, and brought up safely and in secret by Rohini among the villagers of Braj. Meanwhile, Devaki and Vasudev told Kansa that their seventh child had been born dead.

Very soon after, Devaki began expecting her eighth child, the one, it had been said, who would kill Kansa. Kansa doubled the guards on the prison, and waited anxiously for the birth of this child.

Devaki’s eighth son was born at midnight on a dark and stormy night in the month of Sravan. The baby was as dark as the clouds that covered the sky that night. He was therefore called Krishna, which means ‘dark’ or ‘black’.

Vasudev and Devaki waited in fear for Kansa to appear, but suddenly all was silent. The guards at the prison door fell asleep, as did every living creature in that great palace. Suddenly the dark dungeon was filled with a shining light and once again there came a voice out of the sky.

‘Take your son to Gokul, across the river Yamuna, to the house of Nand, the cowherd,’ said the voice to Vasudev. ‘Nand’s wife has just had a baby. Leave your son with her, and bring her child back to Devaki.’

The light vanished and the prison became as dark and dreary as before. But the doors stood open, the locks broken, the guards snoring with their heads on their weapons. Vasudev’s chains fell away from his ankles. In great wonder, he took up his son in his arms, and walked out of his prison, into the dark and stormy night.

Vasudev walked through the pouring rain, holding his newborn baby close to his chest, safe from the wind and the wet, trusting in the divine voice. But when he came to the river Yamuna, he saw that the great river was in flood. The bridge had been washed away, and no boat would be able to cross that furious flood.

Vasudev walked through the pouring rain, holding his newborn baby close to his chest, safe from the wind and the wet, trusting in the divine voice. But when he came to the river Yamuna, he saw that the great river was in flood. The bridge had been washed away, and no boat would be able to cross that furious flood.

Vasudev was in despair – how would he cross the river? Yet he had to obey the divine voice. Vasudev stepped into the angry waters, the baby held high above his head. The river rose higher and higher, the waves grew ever more furious, and Vasudev feared for his life.

But the newborn baby laughed, and put its tiny foot out of its swaddling sheets and touched the waves. All at once the river stopped raging, the waves grew still and the water level subsided.

And from the river rose a huge serpent. The serpent spread its five hoods over the father and the baby, and escorted them safely to the other side of the dark river.

Vasudev climbed out onto the far bank of the Yamuna. Silently he marvelled at the wonders he had seen, but hurried on to find the house of Nand, chief of the cowherds of Gokul.

In Gokul all was silent, except for the pouring rain. Men, women and children slept safe and dry inside their homes. Vasudev found his way to Nand’s house. Here too, all was silent. Vasudev shook Nand awake, and explained the prophecy and told him what the voice had asked him to do. Nand led him unquestioningly to his newborn child.

A lamp burned low in the room where Nand’s wife Yashodha slept with her newborn baby daughter. Silently, quietly, Vasudev entered the room. He laid his baby son down beside Yashodha and picked up her baby daughter. Just as silently as he had come, Vasudev returned to Mathura with the baby girl.

In Mathura, all was as he had left it – everyone slept, deep in an enchanted sleep. The prison guards snored over their weapons, the prison doors stood wide open, the palace was silent. Only Devaki waited, awake and anxious, for Vasudev’s safe return.

Vasudev entered his prison, and laid the baby girl beside Devaki. The prison doors shut on their own, Vasudev’s chains fastened themselves around his ankles, and the prison guards woke up, stretching and yawning, and amazed that they had fallen so sound asleep. The guards hurried to the prison door to make sure their prisoners were still safe and secure, and saw Devaki holding a newborn baby in her arms.

‘The eighth child, the eighth child has been born!’ cried the guards. A messenger went running to summon the demon king Kansa.

Kansa came at once, angry yet afraid. He flung open the prison doors and snatched the baby from Devaki’s arms. ‘The baby is a girl,’ said Devaki. ‘How can she harm you, brother?’ asked Vasudev. ‘Will you not spare us at least one child?’

But Kansa was not to be moved. ‘This is your eighth child,’ roared Kansa. ‘Girl or boy, the child must die!’ But the baby slipped out of his hands, and shining with a glorious light, flew out of the prison window. All that remained was a laugh and a sweet voice which said, ‘Kansa, you cannot kill me! I am Devi, born as a baby to fool you! Your destroyer has been born as foretold, and he is safe! You will die at the hands of Devaki’s eighth son!’

Kansa was furious, but there was nothing he could do. ‘You will rot in prison forever,’ he roared at Devaki and Vasudev. ‘I will find your eighth child and kill him, no matter what it takes!’

But Krishna was safe in Gokul, with Nand and Yashodha, who accepted him as their son. Krishna fought all the demons that Kansa sent after him, and when he was twelve years old, killed Kansa himself.

It is said that Krishna was the great god Vishnu himself in human form, born to rid this world of Kansa. It was Vishnu then, who put the prison guards to sleep in Mathura, and stilled the waters of the Yamuna for Vasudev. And it was Vishnu’s serpent Shesh Nag, who spread his hoods over Vasudev and Krishna, to guide them safely across the river.