NAVRATRI SPECIAL DAY - 7
(Kalaratri – The goddess of destruction and the most terrifying) form of Durga

Krishna smiled as he began narrating the tale of Kalaratri to the eager crowd gathered around him.

"On the seventh day of Navratri, we honor Kalaratri, the fierce and fearsome form of the goddess. Her appearance is terrifying—she is dark as the night, her hair untamed, and her eyes blazing like fire. She rides a donkey and carries a sword in one hand and a noose in the other. Yet, despite her fearsome look, she is always the protector of her devotees. She is the remover of all fears."

The people leaned in, captivated by Krishna's voice as he continued the tale.

"Kalaratri is said to have appeared during a time of great chaos, when the world was overrun by powerful demons. One such demon, named Raktabeej, had the ability to multiply each time a drop of his blood touched the ground. Every time he was struck in battle, hundreds of new demons were born from the droplets of his blood. It seemed impossible to defeat him."

Krishna paused, letting the tension build before continuing, "That's when the gods called upon the fierce and mighty Kalaratri. She stormed onto the battlefield, her roar shaking the heavens. As she fought Raktabeej, she realized his power, and with great skill, she devised a plan. She spread her tongue wide and drank every drop of blood that fell from Raktabeej, preventing him from multiplying further. Without his power to regenerate, Kalaratri swiftly destroyed him, bringing peace to the world once again."

The crowd gasped in awe at the power of the goddess.

Krishna’s smile grew tender as he concluded, "Though she appears in a terrifying form, Kalaratri’s purpose is always to protect. She teaches us that sometimes fierce strength is necessary to overcome darkness and that fear is an illusion. The only real truth is love and protection."

He looked over at Subhadra, who had been quietly listening, her eyes shining with admiration for the story.

Krishna grinned as he prepared to share one of his playful tales. The crowd, already familiar with his mischievous nature, leaned in eagerly, knowing that a light-hearted story was on its way.

"Ah, the days in Vrindavan," Krishna began with a twinkle in his eye. "The gopis were always so devoted to me, and I... well, I couldn't resist having a little fun with them every now and then. You see, they would gather every morning to go to the river Yamuna to fetch water. And I—well, let's just say I made their mornings a little more interesting."

He chuckled as he continued, "One fine day, I saw a group of gopis walking towards the river with their pots balanced on their heads, chatting away. I decided it was the perfect time to play a little prank. So, with a bit of magic and a lot of skill, I climbed up a nearby tree with my friends, and as the gopis passed beneath, I plucked at their veils and grabbed their pots!"

The crowd burst into laughter as they pictured the scene.

"Oh, the gopis were furious! They scolded me, saying, 'Krishna! How dare you steal our pots! We need to fetch water for our homes!' But I just laughed and said, 'If you want your pots back, you’ll have to dance for me!'"

He paused to let the crowd enjoy the image of the scene before going on. "Of course, the gopis were reluctant, but they knew they couldn’t return without the water. So, reluctantly, they began to dance, twirling around, while I and my friends watched from the tree. It was such a sight!"

Krishna laughed along with his audience. "After they danced long enough, I finally jumped down from the tree, returned their pots, and let them go on their way—but not without teasing them one last time! I told them, 'You can always call me if you want a dancing partner!'"

Subhadra, listening from nearby, smiled softly at her brother's antics, shaking her head with fond amusement.

Krishna winked, adding, "The gopis may have been annoyed at the time, but they knew it was all in good fun. And besides, they never stayed angry at me for long."

The crowd roared with laughter, enchanted by the image of Krishna and his playful nature.

Krishna smiled as he began recounting the story of his beloved sister, Subhadra. "Ah, Subhadra's birth was a moment of great joy in our family. She wasn't just any child; she was born with the blessings of the divine."

He leaned back, gazing at the listeners with fondness. "Subhadra was born to our parents, Vasudeva and Devaki, in the grand city of Mathura. Her birth came at a time when much had already unfolded—after my own adventures in Gokul and Mathura, and after Kamsa had been defeated. By the time Subhadra was born, peace had returned to our lands, and she was a symbol of that peace and harmony."

Krishna's eyes twinkled with warmth. "As soon as she was born, the whole palace was filled with a unique light. Even as a baby, Subhadra radiated joy and grace. Our mother, Devaki, was overjoyed, for Subhadra brought a sense of completion to the family. She had seen so much suffering with Kamsa, losing her previous children, and Subhadra's arrival brought her the happiness she had longed for."

Krishna looked over at Subhadra, who was blushing slightly at all the attention. "As she grew, she became the heart of the family. While Balarama and I were always busy with our adventures and responsibilities, Subhadra was the light that kept everyone together. Her smile could brighten the darkest days."

He added playfully, "And don’t forget, she wasn’t just beautiful and kind, but also very talented. She was a skilled archer, trained by none other than our brother Balarama and me. She had the strength of her brothers, but the grace and wisdom of our mother."

The crowd, listening intently, smiled warmly as Krishna spoke about Subhadra’s childhood.

The Pandavas had made a vow never to enter Draupadi’s chambers when she was with one of the other brothers. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, Arjuna was forced to break this promise and enter the room while Draupadi was spending time with Yudhishthira. As a consequence, Arjuna accepted the punishment and went into self-imposed exile, dedicating his time to meditation and penance.

Subhadra, overwhelmed and devastated, found herself unable to protest when Balarama fixed her marriage to Duryodhana. She felt disgusted at the thought of marrying him, knowing all too well the kind of person he was from Arjuna’s stories. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it or confide in anyone.

"Arjun, please come soon. I'm waiting, don't be late," Subhadra whispered to herself, her heart heavy with fear and hope. "It's about my life. I can’t bear the thought of someone else tying the knot around my neck. In my mind, I’m already married to you. I’ve already accepted you as my husband."