As the first rays of dawn kissed the earth, the night faded into memory. The moon withdrew its silver beams, and the sky flushed red, welcoming the sun's arrival. Stars dimmed, retreating into slumber, and the ground sparkled with dew.

Vraja buzzed with activity as preparations for the journey to Mathura unfolded. Cows roamed the grounds, their bells jingling softly, while the gopas churned milk in clay pots. Young calves, tied with ropes, bleated gently as the elders loaded carts with heavy vessels filled with offerings. Bulls, milk, curds, and ghee were prepared as a tribute for Kamsa.

Krishna, Balarama, and Akrura departed together on a chariot, their presence akin to lords of the three worlds embarking on a divine mission. As their chariot neared the banks of the Yamuna, Akrura spoke to Krishna.

"O son of Nanda! Let us pause here briefly. The horses need rest and fodder. The vessel for their feed is in the chariot. Please tend to them while I immerse myself in the sacred pool of the Yamuna. I will offer worship to the lord of the serpents, the supreme Ananta, who upholds dharma. I seek his blessing, for he is adorned with the svastika mark on his hood, dressed in blue, and the bearer of a thousand heads. He is the eternal guardian of peace, surrounded by his celestial retinue of serpents."

Krishna replied with a gentle smile, "O righteous one! Go without delay. We will await your return."

With Krishna's permission, Akrura descended into the sacred waters of the Yamuna. Immersing himself in the pool, he entered Rasatala, the realm of the serpents. There, he beheld a sight of unparalleled grandeur.

The divine serpent Ananta, resplendent with a thousand radiant hoods, sat on a throne formed by the coils of his body. A golden palm tree standard rose above him, and a plough and club lay beside him. Adorned with a garland of golden lotus flowers and smeared with sandalwood paste, he radiated divine energy. His fair complexion shone, and his lotus-like eyes appeared intoxicated with bliss. Vasuki and other celestial serpents, including Karkotaka, Ashvatara, and Kambala, surrounded him in reverence. They bathed and consecrated him with waters from the great ocean, pouring them from golden vessels adorned with lotuses.

On Ananta's lap sat Vishnu, the eternal lord, attired in yellow garments and marked with the Srivatsa on his chest. His dark complexion shimmered with divine brilliance. Beside him was another form, Samkarshana, pale as the moon, seated humbly without a heavenly throne. Akrura marveled at the eternal forms of the gods, overwhelmed by their splendor.

He rose to the surface, astounded, only to see Krishna and Balarama seated on the chariot, their divine forms glowing, their eyes locked in a knowing exchange. Driven by curiosity, Akrura immersed himself again in the Yamuna's waters. This time, he saw Krishna seated on the lap of Ananta, worshipped by celestial beings with proper rites.

Akrura, now fully convinced of Krishna's divinity, surfaced again. He chanted mantras in his heart, his mind steeped in devotion. He returned to the chariot, where Krishna greeted him with his characteristic cheer. "What happened in the Bhagavat pool, O Akrura? How was the world of the serpents? You took your time. Did you see something extraordinary that held your attention?"

Akrura, filled with awe, replied, "O Krishna, you are the marvel of marvels. Nothing in this world, movable or immovable, exists apart from you. Yet, I saw something wondrous that words cannot fully capture. I beheld extraordinary and divine forms, and my heart was filled with joy. There is nothing else I wish to see in this world. Let us proceed to Mathura to reach Kamsa's city before sunset."

With these words, the chariot set forth again, carrying Krishna, Balarama, and Akrura toward their fateful encounter in Mathura.

The Arrival of the Divine Brothers

As the fiery hues of sunset bathed the sky, Krishna, Balarama, and Akrura entered the gates of Mathura, the city of grandeur. Akrura, brimming with wisdom and energy, guided the two brothers to his own home. However, his heart was burdened with worry.

He addressed Krishna and Balarama, whose divine auras lit up his dwelling. "O sons of Vasudeva, radiant as the gods themselves! I urge you to reconsider visiting your father's house. Kamsa's fury burns unceasingly, and because of you, he unleashes his anger upon Vasudeva. Day and night, he censures the aged one. Spare him the torment by staying away."

Krishna, ever calm and resolute, replied, "O noble one who follows dharma, we appreciate your concern, but we must tread our path. Let us explore the roads of Mathura. Permit us to proceed."

Receiving Akrura's blessings, Krishna and Balarama set out, their steps deliberate, their intentions concealed. They walked like majestic elephants freed from their bonds, ready to confront any challenge.

As they wandered through the streets, their eyes caught sight of a washer man dyeing bright royal garments. Approaching him, Krishna said, "O washer man, we seek your finest clothes. Will you grant us these garments?"

The washer man sneered, arrogant and bound by his loyalty to Kamsa. "Who are you to demand royal garments? You seem like forest-dwelling simpletons, unworthy of such attire. These garments belong to the king, brought from distant lands for his use. Beasts like you, reared among animals, have no claim over them. Leave before you meet your doom!"

Krishna's demeanor darkened. With the strength of a thunderbolt, he struck the washer man on the head, ending his life instantly. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground, and his terrified wives ran, wailing, to Kamsa's palace. Krishna and Balarama chose the finest garments from the heap, adorning themselves in splendor.

Continuing their journey, they arrived at a garland shop owned by Gunaka, a kind and humble man whose livelihood came from crafting exquisite floral garlands. With his gentle voice, Krishna requested, "O amiable one, may we have some garlands from your shop?"

Without hesitation, Gunaka presented them with his finest garlands, his heart filled with joy. Krishna, pleased with the garland maker's generosity, blessed him. "O virtuous one, your devotion has touched me. May you prosper in wealth and happiness forever."

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Gunaka prostrated before Krishna, accepting the boon with humility.

As they walked further, the brothers encountered Kubja, a servant of Kamsa, carrying fragrant pastes meant for the king. Her gait was crooked, her back hunched like a twisted vine. Krishna, his voice soft as a cloud's rumble, asked, "O one with lotus-like eyes, for whom are you carrying these fragrant pastes?"

Kubja smiled shyly, replying, "These pastes are for the king's bath. But now that I have seen you, I am enchanted. My heart is filled with love. Please, take these pastes meant for royalty."

Krishna, pleased by her devotion, gently placed two fingers on her hump. With a divine touch, her crooked frame straightened, and she stood upright, radiant and beautiful.

Laughing joyously, she said, "O beloved one, remain with me. Do not leave!" Krishna smiled and departed, leaving her in awe and desire.

The brothers eventually reached the royal palace, where Kamsa's mighty bow was kept. Curious to see the famed bow, they asked the guard, "O protector of Kamsa's treasure, show us this great bow."

The guard, though hesitant, led them to the chamber. The massive bow lay, glittering like a pillar of strength, a relic even the gods could not wield. Krishna approached it with a smile. With ease, he lifted the bow, testing its might. But as he tried to bend it, the bow snapped in two, echoing like thunder across the palace.

Trembling in fear, the guard ran to Kamsa, breathless with terror. "O king, hear my words! Two extraordinary youths, clad in blue and yellow, entered the bow chamber. Dark and lotus-eyed one lifted the great bow and broke it like a twig. Their strength is unmatched. They departed swiftly, like the wind."

After Krishna shattered the mighty gain bow, news of the act reached King Kamsa, Mathura's ruler and the Bhoja lineage's extender. His heart trembled with anger and fear, for the act foretold the arrival of those who would challenge his reign. Determined to take control, Kamsa swiftly left his chambers and headed to the grand arena to inspect the arrangements for the coming spectacle.

The arena was a marvel ofcraftsmanship and grandeur. It was adorned with towering galleries, superblydecorated walls, and a single massive pillar that supported extensive shades.Fountains of crystal-clear water sparkled, and golden steps led to thegalleries, where thousands could gather to witness the event. The king admiredthe platforms, seats for nobles, and pathways for spectators.

Kamsa commanded his aides, "Tomorrow, ensure the arena shines with vibrant garlands and fluttering flags. Let the floors be cleansed with sacred cow dung, and let the galleries be adorned with elegant curtains. Place golden pots filled with water throughout the arena and arrange for fragrant offerings and beverages. Invite the wrestlers and seat them prominently before the crowds. Let every corner be perfect to reflect our glory."

After giving these orders, Kamsa retired to his palace, his mind plotting the next step in his plan.

Summoningthe Champions: Chanura and Mushtika

Within the palace, Kamsa summoned his two most formidable wrestlers, Chanura and Mushtika, renowned across the land for their immense strength and mastery of combat. These invincible warriors, revered as symbols of valour, entered the royal chamber with confidence.

Kamsa deliberately addressed them: "You are my greatest warriors, unmatched in strength and skill. Remember the respect and honour I have bestowed upon you. Now, I have a task of great importance. Two cowherds from Vraja, Krishna and Samkarshana, have come to Mathura. Though young, their strength surpasses the ordinary. These two have dared to shatter the bow and roam unchallenged in my city. Tomorrow, they will come to the arena, seeking a fight.

You must defeat them swiftly and show no mercy. Do not mistake them for mere children. Use all your might to beat them, for their defeat is critical to securing my rule. Fail me not."

Hearing Kamsa's words, Chanura and Mushtika were emboldened. They bowed before the king and spoke with venomous resolve: "Fear not, O King. These cowherds, who dare to challenge your reign, are already as good as dead. When they face us in the arena, they will meet their end. Their audacity to defy you shall lead them to calamity."

The wrestlers left the palace, their minds filled with thoughts of conquest, and returned to their quarters to prepare for the upcoming battle.

As the night enveloped Mathura, the city buzzed with anticipation. Word of the broken bow, the decorated arena, and the impending confrontation spread like wildfire. Kamsa's mind was restless, yet he clung to the hope that his wrestlers would emerge victorious.

Krishna and Balarama, on theother hand, stood calm and poised. They knew their purpose was far moresignificant than a mere wrestling match.

Kamsa, the tyrannical ruler of Mathura, summoned the Mahamatra, the royal officer responsible for elephants. He issued specific, grim instructions: "Station the fierce elephant Kuvalayapida at the gate. This beast is wild with intoxication, violent in nature, and enraged by the presence of rival elephants. Drive this king of elephants toward the two cowherds, Krishna and Balarama, who dare to challenge my authority. They must meet their end beneath its tusks.

When those two, the so-called sons of Vasudeva, fall, the Yadava clan will lose its foundation. Vasudeva and his kin, who have foolishly placed their hopes in Krishna, will be left defenseless and destroyed. With Krishna gone, their ambitions will crumble, and I will be free to rid this city of the Yadavas. Their dreams of refuge in Krishna will vanish. The elephant, my wrestlers, or I will ensure this outcome. I will finally rule in peace once this city is cleansed of Yadavas."

After issuing his orders, Kamsa reflected on his own tumultuous origins. He declared, "I have been abandoned by my father, Ugrasena, the so-called extender of the Yadava lineage. Yet I have risen above their scorn through my might. They may despise me, but my power speaks for itself."

Kamsa recalled the story of his conception, recounting it to the Mahamatra as a testament to his strength and destiny.

TheTale of Kamsa's Birth

Kamsa narrated the dark tale of his birth. His mother, Padmavati, once ventured to the forested slopes of Mount Suyamuna with her companions. The air was rich with the intoxicating scents of blossoming kadamba and kesara trees, and the sweet calls of kinnaras and peacocks filled the air. Overwhelmed by the beauty and allure of the forest, she felt a stirring of desire.

At that moment, the powerful Danava Drumila, the lord of Soubha, appeared disguised as Ugrasena. Padmavati, believing him to be her husband, submitted to him. However, when she realized the truth, she was horrified and confronted the Danava.

Padmavati cried, "You have dishonored me! I follow the dharma of loyalty to my husband, and you have defiled me with deceit. What will my family say? I will be shamed forever!"

Unmoved by her anger, Drumila declared arrogantly, "Women are not bound by the laws of loyalty as you claim. Many women have given birth to powerful sons, even through acts of adultery. You will bear a son, Kamsa, who will be mighty and destroy his enemies."

Enraged and grieving, Padmavati cursed him: "The son you have prophesied will indeed be strong, but his death will come at the hands of another born in my husband's lineage."

Drumila laughed off the curse and departed through the skies, leaving Padmavati desolate. She returned to the city, bearing the burden of the Danava's vile deed and the prophecy of her son's destiny.

Now reflecting on his cursed origins, Kamsa declared, "I am Ugrasena's kshetraja son, born not of his will but through my destiny. I have risen above their disdain and shall prove my strength by destroying Krishna and Balarama."

Turning back to the Mahamatra, Kamsa commanded, "Prepare Kuvalayapida for battle. Equip the elephant with a goad, spear, and spike. Station it at the gate and ensure it is ready to crush those two cowherds. Be steady in your resolve and swift in your actions."

As the Mahamatra departed to prepare Kuvalayapida, Kamsa's heart was consumed by his desire to cement his reign and destroy the prophecy that loomed over him. Yet, unbeknownst to him, the wheels of fate were already in motion. The prophecy of his death by Krishna's hands was drawing closer, and every step Kamsa took to thwart it only brought it nearer.

TheGrand Wrestling Arena

The second day of the festival dawned, and the magnificent wrestling arena of Mathura was alive with excitement. Citizens gathered in throngs, eager to witness the spectacle. The arena was a masterpiece of craftsmanship: It was supported by eight colorful pillars adorned with garlands and golden inlays. The galleries blazed with gilded nets and jewels, creating a scene akin to celestial mountains. Separate sections for courtesans and noblewomen sparkled with clean covers, golden couches, bouquets, and fruit baskets. The vibrant arena resembled a turbulent ocean filled with laughter, music, and the jingling of ornaments.

At the eastern gate, the focus of grandeur, the gates were thrown open and adorned with floral decorations, making the entrance as radiant as the summit of Mount Meru. The air was charged with anticipation as the arena awaited the clash of warriors.

Amidst the vibrant chaos, King Kamsa entered his grand viewing gallery. Dressed in white robes, crowned with a gleaming white crown, and flanked by attendants with fans, Kamsa resembled the moon surrounded by clouds. As he took his seat, the citizens offered benedictions, wishing him victory.

Kamsa ordered the mighty and maddened elephant Kuvalayapida to station at the arena's gate. This elephant, maddened by musth and goaded by its mahout, was to serve as a deadly trap for Krishna and Balarama.

Krishnaand the Maddened Elephant

As Krishna and Balarama approached the arena, the crazed Kuvalayapida charged at them, its trunk curling in a fury. Under Kamsa's orders, its mahout goaded the beast mercilessly to attack. Krishna stood firm, laughing at the elephant's rage and mocking Kamsa's arrogance.

"Indeed," Krishna declared, "Kamsa will soon meet his end, as he relies on this elephant to harm me."

When the elephant roared like thunder, Krishna leapt forward, clapping his hands and slapping his chest in defiance. Govinda, the lord of all beings, seized the elephant's trunk and pressed it against his chest. He danced around the beast with the grace of the wind teasing the clouds.

Krishna easily dodged the elephant's tusks, passing between its legs and taunting it relentlessly. At one point, he emerged from behind and seized its tail, demonstrating his unmatched strength. The maddened Kuvalayapida, though enormous and powerful, was no match for Krishna.

Realizing the danger posed by the beast, Krishna decided to end its rampage. Placing his right foot against its temple, he gripped its tusks with his hands and tore them out with godly strength. The elephant trumpeted in pain, its mighty body crushed and bleeding. In a swift and final move, Krishna struck the beast with its tusks, killing it.

The Mahamatra, who rode Kuvalayapida, met the same fate as the elephant. Struck down by Krishna using the tusks, the mahout fell lifeless, and the mighty beast collapsed like a mountain shattered by Indra's vajra. Streams of blood and musth flowed from the elephant as its defeated form lay still.

Balarama, ever ready to support his brother, had grabbed the elephant's tail, pulling it with Garuda's strength, subduing a serpent. Together, the two brothers emerged victorious over the beast and its rider.

With Kuvalayapida slain and its tusks in his hands, Krishna strode into the wrestling arena, flanked by his elder brother Balarama. The arena, which moments earlier had resembled a turbulent ocean, quieted as the spectators beheld the brothers' divine form.

The arena at Mathura was alive with anticipation. Amid the grandeur, the arena's atmosphere shifted when the lotus-eyed Krishna and his elder brother Balarama stepped into the arena. Krishna, carrying the blood-streaked tusks of the slain elephant Kuvalayapida, appeared as a celestial force.

His garments fluttered in the wind, and his playful yet commanding demeanor filled the air with awe and excitement. Pale with fear, Kamsa watched from his throne, his eyes narrowing as Krishna strode forward like a lion surveying its prey.

KamsaCommands His Champion

Kamsa's composure wavered as he ordered his chief wrestler, Chanura, to step forward. Chanura, a giant of a man, loomed over the arena like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. A native of Karusha, Chanura was renowned for his unmatched strength and ruthless victories in the ring.

Krishna, undeterred by Chanura's massive form, smiled calmly. His voice rang out clear and steady, addressing the murmurs among the spectators worried about the match's fairness. "I may be young, and Chanura may be mighty, but I welcome the challenge. Strength and courage are all that matter in the arena."

The people cheered, their initial doubts overshadowed by their admiration for Krishna's unwavering confidence.

The arena fell silent as Krishna and Chanura squared off. The fight began with a roar as the two warriors collided like wild elephants battling for dominance. Chanura charged at Krishna, his fists like hammers, but Krishna's agility was unparalleled. He ducked, weaved, and countered every attack with precision and strength.

The duel escalated into a brutal contest of power and technique. Chanura's fists landed with the force of a mountain crashing to the ground, but Krishna's strikes were swift and calculated, leaving his opponent stunned. They grappled, pushed, and pulled with ferocity, the arena floor trembling beneath their feet. Their blows echoed like thunderclaps, and the crowd gasped as Krishna lifted Chanura and slammed him to the ground.

As the battle raged, the heavens seemed to pause. The gods, hidden in their celestial vehicles, gathered to watch the spectacle. The Saptarshis chanted for Krishna's victory, their voices mingling with the crowd's cheers. Even the divine trumpets, silent at Kamsa's command, began to sound of their own accord, heralding Krishna's glory.

Kamsa, sweating profusely, signalled for silence. But the arena seemed to defy him, erupting with cries of support for Krishna.

Chanura'sFall

Sensing Kamsa's growing anger, Krishna summoned all his strength for a final move. He grabbed Chanura, his fingers digging into the wrestler's flesh, and lifted him above his head. With a thunderous roar, Krishna slammed Chanura to the ground.

The impact was devastating. Blood flowed from Chanura's mouth and nose as his lifeless body lay still in the center of the arena. His eyeballs, dislodged from their sockets, hung grotesquely, a haunting testament to Krishna's unmatched power. The crowd erupted in wild applause, their voices shaking the very walls of Mathura.

As Chanura lay dead, Krishna turned his gaze toward Kamsa. Once flushed with arrogance, the tyrant's face was drained of color. The people of Mathura, emboldened by Krishna's victory, began to murmur among themselves, their loyalty to Kamsa wavering.

Amidst the commotion, Rohini's son, Balarama, seized Mushtika, another of Kamsa's champions, while Krishna set his sights on Tosalaka, a giant wrestler from Andhra.

Tosalaka, towering like a mountain, charged at Krishna with reckless fury. Krishna, ever composed, dodged his blows with remarkable agility. In a breath-taking display of power, Krishna lifted Tosalaka effortlessly, whirling him around a hundred times before smashing him to the ground. The force of the impact shook the arena, and Tosalaka, bleeding profusely, breathed his last.

Meanwhile, Balarama fought Mushtika, whose skill and brute strength made him a worthy adversary. The battle raged on as the two wrestlers exchanged fierce blows. Balarama, summoning his immense power, landed a decisive punch on Mushtika's head. The blow shattered Mushtika's skull, and his lifeless body fell to the ground, eyes bulging grotesquely from their sockets.

With Tosalaka and Mushtika defeated, Krishna and Balarama stood in the center of the arena, their eyes blazing with anger. No wrestler dared step forward to challenge them.

As the bodies of his champions lay lifeless, Kamsa's rage consumed him. His face turned red, sweat dripping from his brow as his hatred for Krishna festered. His trembling lips commanded harshly: "Expel these gopas from my kingdom! They are nothing but wicked forest dwellers. Bind Nandagopa in chains and take Vasudeva away for punishment. Seize their cattle and riches! I will kill them all if necessary."

The crowd, filled with fear and uncertainty, watched as Kamsa's paranoia deepened. Tears welled in Devaki's eyes as she saw the hatred aimed at her son. Vasudeva, though aged, felt a surge of youthful energy as he watched Krishna stand tall against Kamsa's tyranny.

The Endof the Tyrant

Hearing Kamsa's threats against his loved ones, Krishna's anger ignited. His eyes burned with determination as he leapt from the arena floor to Kamsa's throne, a swift movement that seemed divine. The citizens of Mathura could only see Krishna standing before Kamsa as if he had descended from the heavens.

Trembling under his impending fate, Kamsa tried to muster his strength. But Krishna was unstoppable. Seizing Kamsa by the hair, Krishna yanked him from his throne. The golden crown fell from Kamsa's head, his ornaments scattering. Helpless and senseless, Kamsa could only sigh as Krishna dragged him down to the arena floor.

Krishna's strength was unrelenting. He dragged Kamsa across the arena, the tyrant's body leaving deep marks on the ground. Finally, with a forceful motion, Krishna flung Kamsa's lifeless body across the arena. The once-proud king of Mathura, who had lived in opulence, lay covered in dust, pale and broken. His crown was gone, his radiance extinguished.

Kamsa had not died a warrior's death on the battlefield. His end came through Krishna's sheer power, his body bearing marks from the nails of the mighty-armed Keshava.

With Kamsa dead, Krishna stood victorious; his joy doubled as the thorn in the lives of the Yadavas was removed.

The arena erupted in celebration. His energy blazing like the sun, Krishna sought out his parents, Vasudeva and Devaki. Bowing to his mother, he gently kneaded her feet, bringing joy to her eyes. Overcome with emotion, Vasudeva embraced his son, his spirit rejuvenated by Krishna's victory.

Kamsa's brother, Sunama, attempted to avenge the fallen king. But Balarama, ever the protector of dharma, swiftly subdued him with his immense strength. With their enemies vanquished, Krishna and Balarama returned to their father's residence in Mathura, their hearts filled with cheer.

The death of Kamsa marked the end of tyranny in Mathura and the beginning of a new era for the Yadavas. Krishna, the joy of the Yadu lineage, had fulfilled his destiny. Once a place of fear and oppression, the arena became a stage for justice and liberation.

And so, Krishna and Balarama werereared in the pastoral lands of Vraja and returned to their rightful place inMathura, their legacy cemented in the hearts of all who had witnessed theirmight.