Night Rest on the Yamuna Bank and Preparations to Cross the Yamuna

At the Journey's End, the Travelers Rest at Night on the Yamuna Bank and Prepare to Cross when the Night Ends

The groups of carts gradually assembled upon the daughter of Kalinda's bank. It was as though the natural children of Mandara, Kailasa, Himalaya, and other great mountain kings had formed a line and come to the Yamuna longing to play. Perhaps the king of heaven had felt compassion today and thought, "They are children going to play. Why should their wings be cut?" Having escaped the severing of their wings, they seemed to run forward boldly and without obstruction:

People on the road saw the carts as a moving line of young princes from the hosts of great mountain kings, including the golden mountain, Kailasa, and Himalaya, whose wings the thunderbolt-bearing Indra had compassionately left uncut, thinking them children eager to play on the Yamuna's bank.

Several companies of armed cowherds had reached the bank ahead of the cows to make arrangements in advance. The remaining troops surged forward surrounding the cows, cowherd men, and women. Seeing them, it seemed as though the royal fortune of Vrajapura itself had assumed the form of this boundless military strength and set forth so swiftly that it touched the sky, hastening ahead to adorn Vrindavana and leaving behind in Brihadvana nothing but bare earth:

As Vraja's force moved and seemed to lick the sky with its speed, the embodied splendor of the capital Mahavana appeared to travel ahead to adorn the destination, leaving only the earth itself behind.

The cowherds and soldiers assigned to arrange the Yamuna crossing first looked toward the blue, restless waves of the sun's daughter, then toward the rays of the setting sun. Finally their leader looked toward the ever-growing multitude of cattle, carts, and people arriving from Brihadvana. They quickly understood that crossing the Yamuna today was wholly impossible and that everyone must spend the night on this bank. The king of Vraja could never command an impossible task, and he was still very far away. It would be no surprise if the radiant sun entered the mountain of sunset before his chariot reached the bank. Reaching a unanimous decision, those advanced cowherds and soldiers, expert in place and time, began arranging rest on this side without waiting for Vrajesha's order:

Knowing that crossing the Yamuna that day was impossible and wishing to camp there, those experts in place and time arranged the encampment even without the lord of the settlement's command.

They were to rest for only four watches, yet Vrajesha's skilled managers created a beautiful city of cloth before their eyes:

Cloth houses were erected all around, rows of canopies stretched above, and fabric walls enclosed the place. In the order of the crossroads, merchants' markets shone in fine rows aligned by evenly spaced cords.

"Cloth houses rose on every side, with countless canopies stretched above them. Then fabric walls were raised all around like a rampart. Crossroads appeared exactly corresponding to those in Vrajapura of Brihadvana. Along those intersections, merchants' markets and market lanes, laid out with cords at equal intervals, began to shine." Cows assembled in their proper places within and outside this city of cloth. Oh, what could be said of their beauty then?

Where at first only a few groups of cows stood, others gradually arrived and joined them, and their numbers slowly increased. At first they appeared like a patch of moonlight, then like a lake of sweet milk, and finally they became an ocean of milk without shore.

Powerful bulls swaying like intoxicated elephants drew the carts through the great gate in the fabric rampart. Managers guided them to the proper resting places. The bulls were unyoked and separated from the carts, then elderly women, young women, and maidens descended and unloaded provisions useful for four watches of rest. The bulls' keepers busily prepared tender grass, water, grain, and other food. Merchants arranged their stalls and proper buying and selling began. Attendants went to the market for necessities, while the cowherd women began establishing their homes. Officials cleaned and ordered their assigned spaces, kitchens, and sleeping chambers. Meanwhile Bhagavan the radiant sun completed his four-watch journey and, seeming weary and desirous of lodging in the beautiful western quarter's home, descended to touch the horizon:

As all the people descended from the carts, the needed vessels were unloaded, the bulls released and fed by their keepers, attendants engaged in buying and selling, and officers cleaned kitchens and other places, Bhagavan the sun completed his four-watch course and seemed to descend wearily, wishing to reside in the western quarter's mansion.

Vrajendra and his four brothers Upananda, Abhinanda, Sananda, and Nandana, together with several distinguished elderly cowherds, had already arrived to inspect the arrangements. The managers never expected any of them to cross the immense crowd, line of carts, and multitude of cows so quickly, yet all arrived as the camp began taking shape, praised the managers' wisdom, and helped with duties suited to the hour. The queen of Vraja's cart arrived only now. The immense crowd naturally caused delay, and who rode upon it? Queen Yashoda's restless Nilamani and Rohini's son Balarama. Maiya had to stop the cart countless times. Rama and Shyama repeatedly descended, gathered blossoming lotuses and leaves from nearby ponds, and sat beneath forest trees to eat sweets from the leaves they had collected. They would climb aboard and travel a little farther, then notice a lovely flower upon a vine and insist upon taking it. How could another cowherd bring it? They had to pick it themselves and became calm only after holding it. When they noticed trees laden with fruit and flowers, they compelled Mother to pluck colorful clusters. The cart stopped while the two mothers reached for flowers and fruit, and moved again only when Shri Krishnachandra's garments were full. He delightedly showered flowers upon the carts on both sides. Thus the cart arrived only when evening beauty began coloring the directions.

Birds flew with sweet calls toward their nesting homes. Peacocks and others settled on the branches of tall trees. Herds of deer formed circles, calmly facing every direction while gently chewing the cud. Bees, enchanted from drinking too much honey, became prisoners when the lotus cups closed. The night-blooming lily rejoiced and laughed upon meeting its desired hour. Lamps burned within each newly made cloth dwelling, their light clearly visible outside like the inner light of a tender heart. Vrajesha's guards took their stations along every path. Extending her fresh dominion, the splendor of twilight covered the woodland resounding with Yamuna's waves, as though she had arrived to serve Bhagavan Shri Krishnachandra:

As calling birds flew toward their nests, peacocks settled high in trees, deer sat in circles facing every direction and ruminating, bees became imprisoned within closing lotuses, lilies opened smiling faces at their desired hour, lamps shone from every cloth house like tender hearts revealed outside, and guards sat along every path, the splendor of twilight seemed to arrive to serve Bhagavan.

The queen of Vraja and Shri Rohini descended from the cart holding Shri Krishnachandra and Balarama in their laps and entered the beautiful resting chamber prepared for them. Countless servants had arranged everything. Only one task remained for the mothers: to sit near Rama and Shyama in this cloth house upon the forest path and fondle them as much as they wished. Maiya immediately began serving their evening meal. At that time Shri Krishnachandra heard the vast rumbling produced by countless cows being milked without pause. Like the churning of the ocean, the tumultuous sound grew ever deeper, more enchanting, and sweeter as milk gathered and swirled in the pails, immersing Shri Krishnachandra in supreme bliss:

The great sound of milking, resembling the churning ocean and made deep, enchanting, and sweet by milk swirling within the pails, became a source of rasa for Krishna.

Within moments, however, childhood drowsiness filled Shri Krishnachandra's eyes. With countless entreaties and stories Maiya tried to keep him awake, for otherwise Nilamani would remain hungry. "Nilamani, look, child! The cowherds are going to milk your Dhavali and Shabali. They call them loudly by name. Look, Shabali has come, answering their call with a low. Ah, Dhavali too has run from the herd crying, 'Humma, humma.' You are sleeping while your cows are leaping. They stand near the cowherds, who repeatedly stroke and clean their limbs. How beautiful your Shabali truly is! I offer myself to the enchanting beauty of your Dhavali."

Called by name in the milkman's drawn-out voice, a lovely cow answered with lowing and ran from the herd. Coming near, she was repeatedly stroked by his hand, and here and there such beautiful cows could be seen.

Describing the milking scenes, Maiya tried to keep Shri Krishnachandra alert. But with a half-chewed morsel in his mouth, he grew drowsy and toppled into Mother's lap. Elder brother Balarama was in the same state. Maiya washed both their mouths, carried them to the sleeping chamber, and laid them upon a beautiful bed. Meanwhile Vrajendra arrived with distinguished cowherds. Maiya served them all, then ate a little with Shri Rohini and went to Nilamani.

Every resident of Vraja received every kind of convenience. Food, drink, and rest were so beautifully arranged even in this temporary camp that all felt they remained in their former Brihadvana homes. After eating and drinking, they joyfully wandered through the cloth city beholding its beauty, then men and women, young and old, peacefully lost consciousness in deep sleep. No one felt doubt or fear. Vrajesha's guards stood vigilant everywhere, their loud watch-cries sounding on every side. Then there were Kalindi's murmuring and the pure moonlight at the meeting of autumn and winter. Why should the gopis and cowherds not become absorbed in deep sleep?

Midnight arrived and the third watch gradually ended. The women of Vraja awoke, left their beds, purified themselves, and put on exceptionally pure attire and ornaments. In the lamp-lit veranda of each cloth dwelling, they offered gifts in worship of the site and began churning curd. While churning, their daily practice was to sing the glories of Bhagavan Shri Krishnachandra, enjoyer of childhood lila. Today too they sang in sweet voices. Jeweled anklets, bracelets, and other ornaments moved with the churning and gently chimed. Their sound joined the smooth, deep resonance within the churning pots and the rumbling made especially graceful by the songs' sweet melodies. The maidens of the directions expanded this sound, capable of uprooting every inauspiciousness in the world, through their echoes. The supremely auspicious proclamation entered the ears of celestial women sleeping in aerial cars. Compared with this incomparable joy of hearing lila, celestial touch was insignificant, like the flame of deadly poison. They sat up and listened single-mindedly to the cowherd women's nectar-flowing auspicious song, immersing themselves in blissful rasa until every movement of their minds dissolved in the enchanting sound from Vraja's camp:

When one watch of night remained, the cowherd women rose from their beds in pure attire and ornaments, offered worship in the lamp-lit verandas, and simultaneously churned curd while singing child Krishna's glories. The deep sound within the pots joined their jeweled ornaments and sweet songs, uprooting the world's inauspiciousness and nourished by echoes from the directions. Celestial women awoke in disgust at sleeping and single-mindedly heard that resonance, gaining the bliss of hearing.

Hearing the cowherd women's song, Queen Yashoda sat up. Ordinarily Maiya awoke first, after which the women began churning and singing Shri Krishna's lilas. Today the order changed. Mother became so caught in memories of the past that she forgot everything else: Nilamani's birth from her womb, Vasudeva's messenger, the birth festival and sixth-day worship, the brahmana's deceit, breaking the cart, naming, first-birthday worship, Trinavarta's death, the reading of toys, the vision of Rama's lila, eating earth, the fruit seller's offering, countless forms of care, Kanva's rice pudding, stealing the Shalagrama, forest play, Mother's threat of the bogeyman, drinking milk to grow his braid, stealing fresh butter, the women's lila songs disguised as complaints, creating pearls from the pearl tree, Mother's instruction not to visit other homes, her churning for her son, breaking the curd pot, her discipline and binding his belly, Balarama's crying, the fall of the twin arjuna trees, his free wandering and Mother's call, and finally the journey to Vrindavana. Remembering all these lilas, events, and Nilamani's countless tender, enchanting childhood gestures, Mother became so immersed that she forgot to wake on time. This condition was natural for Yashoda, dense embodiment of maternal rasa, after hearing Nilamani's lilas all day. The wonder is that hearing the same songs again did not make her completely senseless but awakened her. This occurred through an inconceivable power. Nilamani's supreme power of lila makes Maiya forget to grant her rasa, then restores external awareness when needed. The queen rose, changed clothes, and gathered ingredients for Nilamani's morning meal. The servants had already worshiped the site and begun churning.

Just as the journey from Brihadvana had begun after everyone assembled their cows and buffaloes and loaded their belongings onto carts:

After gathering their respective herds and loading their possessions, they set forth.

In the same way, the residents prepared to leave this resting camp. They would cross the Yamuna at sunrise, as Upananda had ordered before sleep. Yet groups of cowherd women came to the queen's camp on various pretexts to behold Nanda's son's moonlike face once more. Shri Krishnachandra awoke by himself in the brahma-muhurta, and the women found fulfillment in seeing him. The eastern sky became tinged crimson. Vrajesha worshiped Narayana, his chosen deity, while the queen carried Nilamani in her lap to bathe in the nearby Yamuna. The beauty of Shri Yamuna, daughter of the sun, was then worthy of beholding:

The daughter of the sun shines renowned, her lovely current supremely charming and delightful to enter. Her dark beauty gleams, her restless waves are incomparable, and the gentle breeze forever serves desire's beauty. Forests of lilies and lotuses bloom, fragrance adorns every direction, and bees, swans, and chakravaka birds sound sweet meters. Masses of lotuses blossom, cuckoos and waterbirds call, and lovely hosts of bees sing, while gods praise her. Narada, Shiva, Sanaka, Vyasa, and sages meditate upon her, hoping to dwell upon her bank, for she destroys every sorrow. Taking her name cuts away sin, and hosts of sages, kinnaras, and seers chant in supreme bliss to the greatly bliss-giving Yamuna.