Canto Ten - Chapter 55

Śrī Śuka said: Kāma, who is a portion of Vāsudeva and whose body had formerly been burned by Rudra's anger, took shelter of that very Lord again in order to obtain a new body.

He was born from the princess of Vidarbha through Kṛṣṇa's seed. Celebrated as Pradyumna, he was in no respect inferior to his father.

Knowing the infant to be his enemy, shape-shifting Śambara abducted him before he was even ten days old, threw him into the ocean, and returned home.

A powerful fish swallowed the child. That fish, together with others, was later enclosed in a great net and caught by fishermen.

The fishermen presented that extraordinary fish as a gift to Śambara. His cooks carried it to the kitchen and cut it open with a well-sharpened knife.

Seeing the child inside its belly, they reported the discovery to Māyāvatī. When she became uncertain about him, Nārada told her everything: the child's true identity and birth, and how he had entered the fish's belly.

She was in fact Kāma's renowned wife, Rati, who had been awaiting the rebirth of her husband after his body was burned.

Śambara had assigned her to the preparation of rice and other food in his kitchen. Recognizing the infant as Kāmadeva, she developed deep affection for the child.

Within no very long time, Kṛṣṇa's son attained full youth and bewildered the women who beheld him.

Rati recognized in that lotus-petal-eyed, long-armed, most beautiful man her own husband. With affection she served him amorously, casting shy, smiling glances from beneath raised brows.

Kṛṣṇa's divine son said to her: Mother, your disposition has changed. You have abandoned a mother's manner and are behaving toward me like a lover.

Rati said: My lord, you are the son of Nārāyaṇa and were stolen from your home by Śambara. I am your lawful wife Rati, and you are Kāma.

Before you were ten days old, this demon Śambara threw you into the sea. A fish swallowed you, and from its belly you have now come here, my lord.

Kill this unassailable and difficult-to-conquer enemy of yours. He knows hundreds of magical arts, including bewildering illusions, so defeat him with superior mystic power.

Your mother grieves for you like an osprey whose young have disappeared. Overwhelmed by love for her son, she suffers like a cow bereft of her calf.

Having spoken thus, Māyāvatī gave the great-souled Pradyumna the Mahāmāyā knowledge, which belongs to pure goodness and destroys every magical illusion.

Pradyumna approached Śambara and challenged him to battle. Hurling unbearable insults at him, he provoked a quarrel.

Abused with harsh words, Śambara became like a serpent struck by a foot. His eyes copper-red with rage, he emerged holding a club.

Whirling his club with great force, he threw it at the mighty Pradyumna and roared a sound as harsh as the crash of a thunderbolt.

O King, Lord Pradyumna knocked aside the oncoming club with his own and angrily hurled his club back at the enemy.

The demon then resorted to the magic of the Daityas taught by Maya. Hovering in the sky, he released a rain composed of weapons upon Kṛṣṇa's son.

Afflicted by that shower of weapons, Rukmiṇī's son, the mighty chariot warrior, employed the supreme knowledge founded in pure goodness, which subdues every illusion.

The Daitya then launched hundreds of illusions belonging to the Guhyakas, Gandharvas, Piśācas, serpents, and Rākṣasas, but Kṛṣṇa's son shattered them all.

Raising his keen-edged sword, Pradyumna forcefully severed from Śambara's body his head, crowned, adorned with earrings, and framed by a copper-colored beard.

As the praising gods showered heaps of flowers upon him, Pradyumna was carried through the sky to his city by his wife, who could travel through the air.

O King, he descended from the sky with his wife into the splendid inner palace crowded with hundreds of women, like lightning entering a cloud.

They saw him dark as a rain cloud, dressed in yellow silk, long-armed, copper-eyed, sweetly smiling, and beautiful-faced.

His lotus face was handsomely adorned by clusters of curling blue-black hair. Mistaking him for Kṛṣṇa, the women became shy and hid here and there.

Gradually noticing slight differences, the delighted women approached that jewel among men and his wife, filled with amazement.

Then the dark-eyed, sweet-speaking princess of Vidarbha remembered her lost son, and her breasts flowed with milk from maternal affection.

Who is this jewel among men? Whose lotus-eyed son is he? What woman carried him in her womb, and who is this woman he has obtained?

My own son was lost, carried away from the maternity chamber. If he lives somewhere, he would now be just like this youth in age and appearance.

How has he attained such a resemblance to the wielder of Śārṅga in form, limbs, gait, voice, smile, and glance?

Surely he must be the very child I bore in my womb. My affection for him is overwhelming, and my left arm is trembling.

While the princess of Vidarbha reasoned in this way, the all-glorious son of Devakī arrived with Devakī and Ānakadundubhi.

Although Lord Janārdana already knew what had happened, He remained silent. Nārada then related everything, beginning with Śambara's abduction of the infant.

Hearing this extraordinary account, the women of Kṛṣṇa's inner palace joyfully welcomed Pradyumna, who had been lost for many years and had now returned as though from death.

Devakī, Vasudeva, Kṛṣṇa, Rāma, the palace women, and Rukmiṇī all embraced the couple and rejoiced.

When the people of Dvārakā heard that the lost Pradyumna had returned, they exclaimed, 'Ah, the child has come back as if from death! What great good fortune!'

The mothers in the palace repeatedly felt toward him, who exactly resembled his father and their own Lord, the intimate attraction that had grown in their hearts. This was not truly astonishing, for he was Kāmadeva appearing before their eyes as a perfect reflection of the beauty of Kṛṣṇa, the abode of Ramā. What, then, need be said of other women?