Kamsa, the king of Mathura, spoke with a sly and generous tone to Akrura, one of the Bhojas and Vrishnis. “O noble lord,” he said, “out of respect, make friendship with me—for among all the Bhojas and Vrishnis, there is no one more truly well-wishing than you.” He continued, “Gentle one, I have sought refuge in you, for you are capable of accomplishing great tasks, just as Indra, relying on Vishnu, attained his own purpose. So, mighty Akrura, go to Nanda’s Vraja, where the two sons of Anakadundubhi—Balarama and Krishna—are now living. Bring them here at once in this chariot.” Kamsa’s voice grew darker. “It is said that my death has been ordained by the gods who dwell in Vaikuntha. Bring those two here, along with the cowherds led by Nanda, and their gifts. Once they are brought, I will have them killed by my elephant, who is as deadly as death itself. If they survive, I will set my fierce wrestlers upon them, as powerful as lightning. When those two are slain, I will destroy Vasudeva and the others who suffer, and I will wipe out their relatives—the Vrishnis, Bhojas, and Dasharhas. I will also kill Ugrasena, my aged father who still desires the throne, his brother Devaka, and all others who are hostile to me. Then, my friend, this earth will be free of thorns. Jarasandha is my mentor, Dvivida my dear companion and friend. Shambara, Naraka, and Bana are devoted to me in friendship. With their help, I will destroy the kings allied with the gods and enjoy the earth at my leisure.” He fixed Akrura with a hard look. “So, knowing this, quickly bring Rama and Krishna—those playful youths—to witness the bow-sacrifice, and to see the splendor of the Yadu city.” Akrura, wise and composed, replied humbly, “O King, your command is proper, and the removal of your enemies is your duty. Yet, success or failure depends on destiny, for destiny alone is the cause of all outcomes. People strive for their desires, even when fate opposes them, and they are subject to both joy and sorrow. Still, I will carry out your order.” With his instructions given, Kamsa dismissed his ministers and entered his palace. Akrura, too, returned to his home, pondering the king’s words. Meanwhile, Kamsa sent forth the demon Kesi, a mighty horse as swift as the mind. Kesi thundered across the earth, his hooves shaking the ground, his mane tossing the sky, and his neighing so fierce that all who heard it were filled with terror. His wide, bloodshot eyes, monstrous mouth, and massive neck made him look like a dark raincloud. Harboring evil intent and eager to serve Kamsa, Kesi stormed into Nanda’s Vraja, making the entire village tremble. As Kesi’s neighing filled the air and even the clouds seemed to scatter before his tail, Krishna, the leader of the cowherds, stepped forward. With a voice like a lion’s roar, he challenged the demon horse. As Krishna was engaged in a sacrifice, Kesi charged at him in a fury, as if to swallow the very sky, and struck the lotus-eyed Lord with his powerful hooves. But Krishna, the Unmanifest Lord, feigned anger and, with both arms, seized Kesi by the legs. With effortless might, he whirled the demon around and flung him aside a hundred bows’ lengths, just as Garuda might toss aside a serpent. Dazed but not defeated, Kesi rose again, his fury redoubled. He rushed at Krishna with his mouth wide open, ready to devour him. Smiling, Krishna thrust his arm deep into the demon’s jaws, as a serpent enters its hole. As Krishna’s arm touched Kesi’s teeth, they shattered like heated iron, and his arm, swelling and unyielding, filled the demon’s throat like a bar of iron. Kesi, unable to breathe, his limbs flailing, drenched in sweat and his eyes rolling in agony, collapsed to the ground, vomiting blood and lifeless. From Kesi’s body, which looked like the fruit of a crab-apple, Krishna calmly withdrew his arm. He showed no astonishment, nor did he boast of his effortless victory, but the gods above showered him with flowers in honor of his deed. At that moment, the foremost among devotees, the divine sage Narada, approached Krishna and spoke to him in reverent tones. “Krishna, Krishna, O unfathomable Self, Lord of yoga, Lord of the universe, O Vasudeva, abode of all, foremost of the Sātvatas, O Master! You are the Self of all beings, the one light among the wise, hidden in the cave of the heart, the witness, the Great Person, the Lord.” Narada continued, “By your own Self, you are your own refuge. In the beginning, by your māyā, you created the guṇas; with them, O Lord of true resolve, you create, maintain, and dissolve this world. Therefore, you have descended for the destruction of earth’s burdens—demons, tormentors, and Rākṣasas—and for the protection of the virtuous. By good fortune, this demon in the form of a horse has been slain by you in sport, whose neighing terrified even the gods and drove them from heaven.” He prophesied, “Tomorrow or the day after, O Lord, I shall see you slay Chanura, Mushtika, the other wrestlers, the elephant, and Kamsa himself. After that, I shall witness the defeat of Shankha, Yavana, Mura, Naraka, the theft of the Parijata tree, and even Indra’s defeat. I shall see your marriages to heroic maidens won by valor, the liberation of King Nriga from his curse in Dvaraka, the obtaining of the Syamantaka jewel and its princess, and the restoration of a Brahmin’s dead son from your own abode. I shall see the slaying of Paundraka, the burning of Kashi, the destruction of Dantavakra, and the death of Shishupala at the great sacrifice. All your other heroic deeds in Dvaraka, sung by poets on earth, I shall witness them as well.” The sage concluded, “Now, I shall see the destruction of these armies by Him who is Time personified, with Arjuna as His charioteer. We contemplate the Lord, dense with pure knowledge, established in His own nature, whose every purpose is fulfilled, whose desires never fail, who by His own splendor is ever free from illusion, and who is the source of the flow of qualities. I bow to You, the Lord, the refuge of all, who by Your power of illusion have created all distinctions; who, for the sake of play, have assumed a human form; the foremost among the Yadus, Vrishnis, and Satvatas.” Having thus praised Krishna and bowed before him, the divine sage departed, delighted by the vision of the Lord. Krishna, having slain Kesi in battle, returned to the joyful cowherds and tended the cows, filling Vraja with happiness. One day, as the cowherd boys grazed their cattle on the slopes of the mountain, they began to play a lively game, dividing themselves into teams of thieves and protectors, delighting in their innocent pastimes under the Lord’s loving gaze.