Śrī Nandanandana's Calf-Herding Festival, the First Departure of Balarāma and Śyāma into the Forest with the Cowherd Boys, and Their Forest Meal Together

As soon as the brāhma-muhūrta began, the sky above Vraja and Vṛndāvana filled with the sounds of many auspicious instruments and the auspicious songs of the beautiful cowherd women. On this day Yaśodā's Nīlamaṇi would begin tending the calves. The cowherd men, the beautiful cowherd women, and the older cowherd boys had all remained awake for nearly the entire night. Vrajeśvara and the queen of Vraja had not rested either. The townspeople were absorbed in decorating every palace, archway, doorway, and lane, while Vrajeśa was occupied with overseeing their work.

For the queen of Vraja, wakefulness had become unavoidable, for again and again her Nīlamaṇi opened His eyes and sat up on His bed. Nīlamaṇi would think that dawn had come and that He must quickly take the calves and set out toward the forest. Sometimes, overcome by enthusiasm, He even tried to run from the bedchamber. His mother would somehow reason with Him, distract Him, and put Him back to sleep. How could she sleep in such a condition?

Now the instruments had begun to play, and it was impossible for Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra to remain patient. Mother had closed the door and fastened the upper bolt. Otherwise, He leapt from the bed and ran so swiftly that even though Yaśodā was exceedingly watchful, she could not catch Him at first. Because the door was barred and little Nīlamaṇi could not reach the bolt, she caught Him as He reached it. Otherwise, she might have next seen Him only after reaching the cowshed. By offering Him many distractions, the mother somehow held Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra back a little longer. When Balarāma and several older cowherd boys arrived, she entrusted her son to their protection and went to contribute personally to the arrangements for the calf-herding festival.

In the light of the golden sunrays, the beauty of the town was a wonder to behold. With plantain pillars, golden auspicious water pots at every doorway, standards, banners, festoons, flower canopies, and other adornments, the artistically skilled cowherd men seemed to have created a new town made entirely of fresh leaves and flowers. Seeing its beauty, the queen of Vraja herself marveled that in only four watches of the night the cowherds had transformed the entire appearance of the town.

Vraja in Bṛhadvana had been decorated many times before. It had been adorned when Mother was in the maternity chamber and Nīlamaṇi was born. On the day of Nīlamaṇi's first feeding of grain, Vrajeśvara had likewise brought a wonder into manifest form. The cowherds had decorated Gokula for His first birthday as well. But the splendor of today's calf-herding festival was altogether different, and every hair upon Mother's body filled with delight.

Yet Mother no longer had time to inspect the town's beauty. Groups of beautiful cowherd women, singing auspicious songs, adorned in many kinds of garments and ornaments, and holding plates filled with auspicious articles, were approaching Nanda's residence, while she had not yet even decorated her Nīlamaṇi. How could she have done so? Filled with excitement, Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra had been leaping about from place to place with Dāū and the cowherd boys, making who knows how many plans for tending the calves. The maidservants had found Him only with great difficulty and had now brought Him back. Mother first needed to adorn Nīlamaṇi, so she took His hand and quickly entered the inner chambers.

Śrī Rohiṇījī began adorning Balarāma, while Mother Yaśodā attended to Nīlamaṇi. In no time Balarāma had accepted the ornaments His mother placed upon Him. But how could Nīlamaṇi submit so easily to wearing garments and ornaments? Even so, He displayed less restlessness today than on other days. He was certainly eager to go to the forest, but He also knew that Mother would not let Him leave until He had been adorned. Thus, for the first time, Mother had an opportunity to ornament Him exactly as she pleased.

With hands filled with her boundless parental affection, the queen of Vraja applied fragrant paste to her son's great emerald-dark limbs, bathed Him with warm water, dried His body, and began dressing Him in garments and ornaments. Before the adornment was even complete, Mother became bewildered while gazing at Nīlamaṇi's world-enchanting beauty. She forgot what ornament belonged where and began making mistakes with those that remained. Seeing this, Śrī Rohiṇī's eyes brimmed with love. Yet time was passing, so she took the remaining ornaments from the mother's hands and placed them upon Nīlamaṇi herself.

The mother became absorbed in drinking the nectar of beauty streaming from her son's moonlike face. Suddenly, however, a whirlpool arose in the ocean of her parental love and drew her back to awareness. She became apprehensive: "My Nīlamaṇi is ever-fresh in beauty, and His loveliness increases at every moment. Today I have adorned Him with so many ornaments. What if someone's evil eye falls upon Him?"

She immediately filled a soft brush with collyrium and drew a crooked black line across Nīlamaṇi's broad forehead. Still, the agitation within her heart did not subside. "This protective mark of collyrium is not sufficient against every evil glance. Of what value is this spot against the dreadful gaze of demons?" With an anxious heart, the mother silently began praying to Lord Nārāyaṇa to protect Nīlamaṇi, the very essence and entire treasure of her life. Lord Nārāyaṇa alone removes every fear:

Kanhaiyā goes to tend the calves. Mother rubs fragrant paste upon her darling's limbs, and her delighted heart blossoms as she moves about.

With her own hands she adorns Him in many ways and places a line of collyrium upon His forehead. Fearing the evil eye, Yaśomatī offers a prayer to her worshipful Lord.

By now the courtyard of Nanda's residence was filled with cowherd men and women. Maharṣi Śāṇḍilya and other brāhmaṇas had also arrived. Near the worship altar, Vrajendra seemed to await Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra. A few moments earlier Vrajeśa had gone to see his son being adorned and had witnessed the queen of Vraja overwhelmed by emotion. That incomparable vision of Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra and the mother's absorption in love had entered Vrajeśa's eyes and mind. At that moment he remained conscious of nothing else.

Had Upanandajī not borne the responsibility for the arrangements and stood beside Vrajeśa, the worship and other rites could hardly have been performed by Vrajeśvara. Again and again his eyes filled with tears, while transformations of love such as perspiration and trembling began to manifest upon his body. Just then Mother arrived near the altar with Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra and Balarāma, having adorned Them and satisfied Them with food. The palace resounded with a tremendous uproar of delight. This alone saved Vrajendra. Or perhaps the great, inconceivable power of līlā awakened Vrajeśvara to the duties appropriate for that moment and softened the fierce current of his emotion. Otherwise, overwhelmed by love, the king of Vraja would truly have fainted and fallen.

The worship began with the placement of the sacred water pot and the other rites. The yajamāna of the sacrifice, Mahārāja Nanda, performed the ceremonies with his own hands, but he moved as though controlled by a machine. While Vrajeśa placed the five jewels into the water pot, he saw his son's image reflected in the diamond, ruby, cat's-eye, topaz, and sapphire. He placed the vessel filled with grain upon the pot, yet within it he beheld only the reflection of Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra adorned by Queen Yaśodā. He prepared the vessel for the offering of arghya, but within that vessel too he saw only Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra.

Most especially, when the time came to invite the brāhmaṇas for the auspicious recitation and he was to say, "O brāhmaṇas, please proclaim auspiciousness in my home," Vrajeśa's lips merely trembled. At that instant, it seemed as if someone had poured nectar into Maharṣi Śāṇḍilya's ears. He perceived distinctly that Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra Himself was fulfilling the yajamāna's role through the movement of Vrajeśa's lips in a voice that put the vīṇā to shame. It possessed the same honey-flowing sweetness and the same supremely sweet resonance.

The officiating sage then entered the same condition as the yajamāna. Maharṣi certainly recited all the subsequent mantras and performed every rite properly, but only as if mechanically. Nothing remained within his eyes, mind, or life-breath except Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra adorned by the queen of Vraja. When he raised his auspicious hands to place kuṅkuma tilaka upon the foreheads of Balarāma and Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra, it became evident that the sage was overwhelmed by a divine state surpassing divinity itself. In any event, the worship, the auspicious recitation, and all their subsidiary rites were completed. On this sacred and auspicious day, at this auspicious moment, the king of Vraja prepared to inaugurate the tending of calves by Rāma and Śyāma:

O revered brāhmaṇas, please perform the auspicious recitation in my home.

Having determined the sacred day and conducted the auspicious recitation and other rites, he caused the two boys to inaugurate the tending of the cow calves.

Only half the festival had yet been completed. The sage still had to place tilaka upon countless cowherd boys. The respected cowherd residents had resolved that on the day of Vrajeśa's son's calf-herding festival, they too would make their sons of the same age tenders of the calves. There would be one combined and magnificent celebration for everyone. The blessing of receiving tilaka from Maharṣi Śāṇḍilya's boon-bestowing hand was not easily attained, and Vrajeśa had inwardly approved the cowherd community's proposal with great delight.

Thus, as soon as the tilaka rite for Rāma and Śyāma was complete, the cowherd boys formed a line. The sage already knew the plan. Today Vrajeśvara was not merely the yajamāna of his own festival but represented all the cowherd men of Vraja. With this in mind, he had arranged all the worship of the gods and the other rites. The sage now began completing the remaining work, placing tilaka upon the cowherd boys one after another. The touch of each boy immersed Maharṣi in supreme bliss. What then can be said of the joy of the boys' parents? Celebrating the festival and absorbed in supreme delight, they made their own sons calf-tenders together with Rāma and Śyāma.

Together with those two boys, the eminent cowherd men held a festival, established happiness within their hearts, and made their respective sons tenders of the calves.

Today the work of giving gifts and honoraria was performed not by Vrajeśvara but by the queen of Vraja. With an open hand, Vrajeśvarī gave gold to the hundreds of thousands of assembled brāhmaṇas and, joining her palms before each one, received blessings for her Nīlamaṇi's welfare:

She summoned the brāhmaṇas, gave them gifts of gold, and received the happiness-bestowing blessings of them all.

The first watch of the day ended while these rites were being performed. Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra came and stood in the courtyard, and countless cowherd boys surrounded Him on every side. Vrajeśvara again approached his son and placed a small crimson herding stick in His beautiful lotus hand. Oh, how enchanting Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra appeared at that moment, surrounded by happiness.

The darling shines with a crimson herding stick in His hand. Trousers adorn His waist, His tunic is red, and a yellow cloth graces His form.

All the cowherd boys have come dressed in the same way, every one a companion of Śyāma.

By Vrajeśvara's order, the calves too had been adorned with extraordinary beauty. A shadow of divine absorption seemed to have fallen upon them. Each held its head high and gazed quietly toward Nanda's residence, as though awaiting its new keeper. Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra arrived, running toward the calves with the herding stick given by His father in one hand and a flute in the other. The wave of joy that passed through the calves when they saw Him left the cowherd community speechless.

Leaping was the only means available to the young calves for expressing their delight, so they began to leap and leap. Yet the way they bounded today was wondrous and wholly extraordinary. Some of the cowherd protectors tried to calm them, but all their efforts were fruitless. Then Śrī Kṛṣṇa came and stood among them, raising His tiny flute-adorned hand. At once every calf grew peaceful exactly where it stood, as if offering proof that it would never disregard even the slightest wish of its new keeper. Beholding this scene, the joy-overwhelmed cowherd assembly involuntarily cried out, "All glory to Nandalāla, the keeper of the calves!"

Everything was complete except for two duties. Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra would go to the forest only after placing His head at the feet of every elder and receiving each one's blessing. Second, Mother had resolved: "Even if it is not the custom of the cowherd clan, how can I send Nīlamaṇi and Balarāma into the forest without placing sandals upon Their tender feet? Jeweled royal roads are not found everywhere. Nīlamaṇi must walk upon forest paths. Without sandals, how will my darling's tender soles be protected from crawling insects, thorns, and stones sharp as razors?"

Without consulting Vrajeśvara, she had already obtained extraordinarily beautiful sandals for both boys. She was waiting only for Their reverence to the elders to be complete, and then she herself would go and place the sandals upon Their feet. The aged cowherd men might stop another person, but no one would stop her.

At Vrajeśvara's signal, Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra once more emerged from among the calves. Though the material mind may be unable to comprehend it, this is entirely true: before their very eyes and before even half a ghaṭī had passed, He bowed at the feet of everyone, beginning with Maharṣi Śāṇḍilya, then the hundreds of thousands of brāhmaṇas and countless elderly cowherd men and women. Each person distinctly experienced that Yaśodā's Nīlamaṇi had come and placed His head at their feet. A lightning-like wave of supreme happiness spread through their limbs. Every other faculty became motionless, their speech was choked, and only a few cool drops of water emerged as blessings along the path of their unblinking eyes. In this way every cowherd man and woman welcomed Nīlamaṇi's reverence.

Three persons remained to be honored: Vrajeśa, Śrī Rohiṇī, and His own mother. This too was completed. Yet no one possesses the power to depict the hundreds of thousands of celestial Gaṅgās of parental nectar that flowed during those obeisances. Some inconceivable power immediately restored Vrajeśa, Śrī Rohiṇī, and the queen of Vraja to composure. Otherwise, seeing the condition they had just entered, the calf-herding would certainly have been postponed.

Suddenly all the cowherd boys sounded their horns together. Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra had devised a plan the previous day, and His circle of friends had settled every detail of what they would do and how they would do it. In accordance with that plan, they now sounded their horns. The joy of the adult cowherd men knew no bounds. They thought, "This is a supremely auspicious omen. These children are naturally following the proper system of tending calves. What great fortune!"

Queen Yaśodā paid no attention to this. As soon as she heard the horns, she ran forward with the sandals and began trying to place them upon Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra's feet. At first He did not understand what Mother intended to do. But when His gaze fell upon the sandals, He quickly leapt away and stood apart. The mother ran after Him and caught His hands again. Whatever else might happen today, Nīlamaṇi would never accept this entreaty of hers. He wholly refused to wear the sandals. Queen Yaśodā offered argument after argument, but Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra answered every one with "No, no!" He grew peaceful only after the sandals had been removed from there:

When the sandals were brought, Kṛṣṇa rejected them with repeated cries of "No, no!" and had them taken away.

Mother resorted to one final strategy: "If Balarāma agrees to wear sandals, perhaps Nīlamaṇi too will listen." But she had forgotten that the strings of the elder and younger brothers' hearts never produce different notes. Rāma's desire is the very reflection of the feelings within Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra's heart. Rāma was experiencing the exact movement of His younger brother's heart at that moment. How could He accept the sandals? He too refused:

Then Rāma, experiencing Kṛṣṇa's mood, gave the same decision.

So that there would be no excessive delay, Vrajeśvara looked toward the sage and conveyed a request by gesture alone. Approving the king of Vraja's prayer, the sage sounded the conch. The mother offered ārati to Nīlamaṇi, the very wealth of her life, and to Balarāma. The women of Vraja again began their auspicious songs, and Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra set out to tend the calves, bringing cooling delight to everyone's eyes:

Today Hari sets out to tend the calves. Delighted Yaśomatī performs His ārati, and every auspicious ornament is arranged.

The women of Vraja sing auspicious songs, their trays filled with pearls. Smiling and making others smile, Gopāla sets forth with the calves and boys.

Rāma and Śyāma stopped at every doorway. Filled with overwhelming delight, the cowherd women performed protective offerings around Them with heaps of immensely valuable objects, waved brilliantly shining jewels before Them as ārati, and continually showered Them from every side with fully blossomed, fragrant flowers:

At the doorway of every house, all the beautiful women, whose glory lay beyond description, performed protective offerings around the two boys with immensely valuable objects, waved blazing jewels before Them, and showered Them with fully blossomed, fragrant flowers. Then They proceeded onward.

Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra gradually passed beyond the town's boundary and reached the edge of the forest. Vrajeśa, the queen of Vraja, and all the townspeople had accompanied Him. But if they continued onward, what freedom would remain for Him? Nanda's son therefore became insistent that no cowherd man, Father, Mother, or anyone else should go farther. He would enter the forest to tend the calves only with His circle of friends.

Everyone had come resolved to turn Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra back at the town's boundary. His resolve, however, was entirely different: today He would certainly enter the forest. Vrajeśa had to yield before his son's intense insistence and gave his consent. Yet Mother's heart pounded with dread. Whenever she looked at Nīlamaṇi's tender lotus feet, her mind filled with countless fears of misfortune. "If only He would at least wear the sandals, they would offer some protection." This thought arose repeatedly within her heart, and again she proposed it to her son. But Nīlamaṇi would not move in the slightest.

Defeated, Mother entrusted the full responsibility for Nīlamaṇi's care to Balarāma. More than that, looking toward Him with tear-filled eyes, she placed Nīlamaṇi's hand within His. She began giving Rohiṇī's son many instructions on where, when, and how He must protect Nīlamaṇi:

With eyes filled with tears, she placed His hand in Dāū's and entrusted all His care to him.

The shadow of Mother's anguish seemed to touch the calves, as though they had come to know the pain within her heart. They truly solved the difficulty of the sandals in another way. They were not merely five or ten but so numerous that counting them was exceedingly difficult. Leaping forward, they dug the earth with their sharp hooves and ground the particles of dust upon the forest path. Struck by the hooves of those countless calves, the earthen dust became as soft as flower pollen. Pebbles, thorns, and other sharp objects were crushed to powder. They made the ground so gentle that Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra could place His feet upon it with the greatest comfort:

The calves, too numerous to count, surely fixed their attention upon Him. To make the path favorable, they dug it with the forceful scraping of their sharp hooves, turning the earthen dust into something like flower pollen and breaking pebbles, thorns, and other obstacles into pieces. Thus they made the ground upon which His feet would move easy and pleasant to traverse.

Moreover:

Those lotus feet are Sadāśiva's treasure, and the daughter of the ocean never removes them from her heart.

Those lotus feet protected Prahlāda in thought, word, and deed when his father terrified him in anger.

The water that touched those lotus feet became the sacred celestial Gaṅgā, whose very sight destroys the heaviest sins.

Receiving the touch of Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra's supremely glorious lotus feet, the earth remains eternally thrilled. Even at that moment, the presiding goddess of the earth felt that Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra's footsteps were showering nectar and saturating every particle of her being. The presiding goddess of Vṛndā's forest was herself occupied with adorning the path along which He would come and every place where the celestial river of His playful līlās would flow. Giving all the wealth of her treasury, she assisted the earth. The ground naturally assumed a form fit to receive the tender feet of Vrajendra's son and adorned itself with every remaining decoration required:

The earth regarded the movement of His feet as a shower of nectar. Joining herself with Vṛndā, she completely accomplished everything that remained necessary for His comfort.

Still seeing Father and Mother follow Him, Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra urged them to return. "Father, do not come any farther. Mother, see how far you have come. Now go back. Truly, believe Me, we all know how to tend the calves. None of you should be worried in any way." With His honeyed voice He refreshed the royal couple of Vraja and became intent upon sending them back from that very place.

The loving insistence of their son left Nanda and his queen no choice. They agreed to return, but before doing so, both poured forth a sweet stream of parental affection and gave Him countless instructions. The essence was simply this: "My darling, do not go far. Tend the calves today only upon this green, grass-filled ground just ahead. Do not delay. Please return home quickly."

Having instructed and reasoned with their son in this way, Vrajeśvara and the queen of Vraja did return, but they left their minds, life-breaths, and everything else there beside Nīlamaṇi. In truth, only their bodies returned, accompanied by mere shadows of their minds and lives. Before their eyes they clearly saw Rāma and Śyāma managing the calves while playing with Their friends. From His very first day, Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra tended the calves as though He had been accustomed to the work forever:

Seeing His father and mother continuing to follow, the son said, "Both of you should return. We are skilled in this work, and there is no need for any anxiety." His parents replied, "Do not go far. Tend the calves today only here. Do not delay, and return very quickly." Having sent His parents back, He tended the calves with Balarāma and His young companions, full of playful delight. Though it was His first day, He acted as if thoroughly practiced.

Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra's cherished desire was fulfilled. Who can say how many wonders He performed with the calves, or how many games He played after making them supremely happy by granting the joy of His touch, which is difficult even for the foremost yogīs and sages to attain? Sometimes He kissed a calf's face. At other times He plucked tender green dūrvā grass with His own hands and fed it. He gave water to one calf from His cupped palms. For another, He soaked His yellow garment and squeezed the water into its mouth.

Beholding these countless enchanting līlās, the hosts of gods situated in the sky became astonished. They did not know what profound intention of Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra, Bhagavān Himself and the abode of infinite majesty, lay concealed within these captivating līlās performed exactly like an ordinary child. Nor could they know. No one in the universe can comprehend the mystery of these līlās of the Supreme Brahman in human form. No one knows why, when, or what He intends to accomplish beneath their covering:

No one knows, O Lord, what You desire to accomplish while acting among human beings and imitating their ways.

From time to time, celestial instruments sounded in the sky, and the ecstatic cry "O Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra, who delights in childhood līlās, all glory, all glory!" resounded. The cowherd boys looked toward the sky in astonishment but saw nothing. It was now time for them to eat, for the meal sent by Mother had arrived. Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra could scarcely contain His delight. For the first time, He had the opportunity to sit with so many friends and eat in the forest in complete freedom. His happiness knew no limit. Leaving the calves upon the green grass, Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra sat down with His circle of friends to eat. The forest echoed with the children's tumultuous uproar of joy.

They ate and rested for a short while. Then nectar began raining from the holes of the enchanting flute. The cowherd boys danced to the rhythm of its waves of melody, while the countless calves swayed along. Every forest bird, troop of monkeys, and herd of deer became motionless. Had the day not already grown late, who knows what condition would have overtaken the cowherd boys within the current of that river of nectar? But they now had to return quickly to Vraja, so the stream of melody paused for a moment.

Gathering the calves, Śrī Kṛṣṇacandra began returning toward Vraja. It seemed that a boundless ocean of beauty without shore or limit was surging forward, or that the presiding deity of the ocean of splendor had entered Śyāmasundara and was personally approaching. Infinite and countless lovely waves of līlā surrounded that supremely beautiful deity. Waves of beautiful, nectarean speech played upon His lips. A wave of loveliness graced His beautiful cheeks. Bright waves of the forest garland danced upon His beautiful breast. Crimson waves rose around His lovely feet, while luminous waves spread across the row of His beautiful nails.

A wave of golden earrings adorned His beautiful pair of ears. The waves of His lovely eyes were exceedingly restless. Near His beautiful neck the waves became gracefully curved. Strong dark waves enveloped His beautiful, broad arms. Waves of honeyed melody played upon His smiling face beneath the shadow of the lovely flute. Ecstatic waves rose through every limb of this presiding deity adorned in beautiful cowherd dress. Together with Him came His own abode embodied within His elder brother, Rohiṇī's son.

This was no mere beautiful pair of Rāma and Śyāma. The presiding deities of beauty Themselves, accompanied by Their entire retinue and walking with beautiful steps, were coming to inundate Vraja:

Beautiful is Śyāma, beautiful are His excellent līlās, and beautiful are the nectarean words He speaks. Beautiful and charming are His shining cheeks, and beautiful is the forest garland adorning His breast.

Beautiful are His feet and the jewel-like nails upon them. Beautiful are His golden, net-like earrings. Beautiful and captivating are His restless eyes, His graceful neck, and His broad arms.

Beautiful is the sweet melody He plays upon the flute. Beautiful is enchanting Gopāla. Sūrdās says: the splendid pair shines supremely as They return to Vraja with beautiful steps.