Krishna and Kalia

Long ago, the Yamuna River flowed beside the village of Vrindavan. In one deep pool lived Kalia, a gigantic many-headed serpent. His poison was so strong that the water there had become dark and clouded. Birds avoided flying above it, the trees along the bank had withered, and the village children and cows stayed far away.

One day, Krishna was playing near the river with his cowherd friends when their ball rolled into Kalia's poisoned pool. Without fear, Krishna climbed a kadamba tree and sprang from a high branch into the deep water.

The moment the water moved, Kalia knew that someone had entered his pool. The angry serpent rose and wrapped his powerful coils around Krishna. His many hoods hissed at once. On the riverbank, Krishna's friends and family watched in alarm.

But Krishna was no ordinary child. He became so heavy in Kalia's grasp that the serpent could no longer hold him. Krishna slipped free, leaped onto Kalia's hoods, and began to dance with light, rhythmic steps. With every step, Kalia's strength and anger faded, and the poison began to lift from the river.

When Kalia was completely exhausted, his wives rose from the water. With folded hands, they asked Krishna for mercy and promised that Kalia had understood his mistake.

Krishna was compassionate as well as brave. He stopped dancing at once.

“You must leave the Yamuna with your family and make your home in the distant ocean,” Krishna told Kalia. “Let this river become clean again, and do not harm the creatures of Vrindavan.”

Kalia bowed humbly. Grateful that his life had been spared, he swam away toward the ocean with his wives.

The Yamuna ran clear once more. Birds returned, fresh leaves opened on the trees, and cows drank safely at the water's edge. The people of Vrindavan celebrated the life returning to their river—and the courage and mercy of their beloved Krishna.