Krishna's birth - A little Janmasthami fic
That night it rained. Vasudeva huddled in the corner of their cell, drawing a moaning Devaki close to himself. Lightning flashed through the high, barred window, and the rumble of thunder followed.
“Hush, dear one,” he murmured to her. “They will hear.”
Devaki whimpered. Vasudeva stroked her head. “Is your water breaking?” he whispered, wary of the guards outside. He knew they pitied him and his wife, but he also knew they would not hesitate to call for Kamsa the moment Devaki went into labour. Seven children he had lost to that accursed brother of his wife, and here was an eighth on the way.
“Yes. It is.” Devaki clutched at his tattered dhoti. “Oh,” she murmured, “why do the gods torment us so, to promise us a child and then take it away?”
“It will be different this time,” Vasudeva tried to reassure her.
“Really? You are optimistic.” Devaki somehow managed to roll her eyes even through her pains. “But I have always loved that about you.”
Vasudeva sighed and shook his head. “Be quiet, my love. Let them not hear us. I am here,” he told her. “We will weather this.”
And weather they did – Vasudeva and his beautiful, dauntless wife, who gritted her teeth and brought to the world their heavenly child without healer or midwife; and when Vasudeva gathered the babe in his tattered rags, he knew he could not let this one die.
Their prison door creaked as it opened. Outside, he could see the guards slumped sideways on the walls and on each other, fast asleep. Devaki clung to him, trembling from exertion.
“Take him away,” she told him. “Vasu, take my child away.”
“You are not well,” Vasudeva pointed out dubiously.
“I will be, if you save my son.” Vasudeva caved. He had never managed to deny his wife anything – not that he had much to give in this dank, miserable place.
‘This is a miracle,’ he thought, as he bore the babe past the sleeping guards, and out of the high walls of Kamsa’s prison - the gates falling open before him all by themselves. His son slumbered peacefully, uncaring of what was happening. ‘Only a fool will not take advantage of it. I will take him to my friend Nanda, and he will be saved. Kamsa will not think to look there.’
The thought of it brought a spring to his step. He and his wife would ever languish in inhuman confinement, but his son would be free!
He all but skipped past Kamsa’s city. Rain and mud shied away from him, but he did not notice.
‘Even the swelling waters of the Yamuna will not stop me,’ he decided.
But Vasudeva need not have worried. There were many miracles left for that night, and for all the nights to come.
