He asked Kaliya's wife for the ball. She beheld a radiant being, blazing with light. A figure of perfect beauty, a flood of facial radiance, as if ten million suns and moons had risen. He gleamed like the core of a golden plantain stem, His glory reaching beyond the sky, visible even at His feet. She examined Him from head to toe. 'What mother could have parted from this child?' she wondered. 'How could anyone forget one so dear, more precious than life itself?' His form was exquisitely small and beautiful. Her eyes drank in the sight with satisfaction. She glanced warily at the sleeping Kaliya and thought, 'Trouble is coming.' 'When he wakes, he will devour this child, and the child's tender mother will die of grief.' 'How can this little one survive?' she wondered, her heart captivated by Hari's beauty. Says Tuka, the forms of the Infinite are beyond all reckoning.