Krsna and the fruit seller

Illustrated by Khushboo

An old hag hollering, “Buy fresh fruits, buy fresh fruits,” meandered her way to Nanda’s palace. Setting down her heavy basket laden with fruits, she sat under a shady tree to escape the sweltering heat. The day was unusually tough for her. Maybe due to the summer heat or something else, but none of the villagers peeked out of their homes and responded to her calls. She had gone around the entire Gokul without making any sales. She saw hillocks of grains in Nanda’s granary and wondered if some would become her lot today. She was old and well past her age to be going around in the summer heat, but she had no one to support her. She sustained herself by selling fruits. She thought of her misfortunes, not knowing that they were about to end. Little did she know what was really in her lot that day. Not Lakshmi, but the Lord of Lakshmi himself was going to come into her life. Krsna was playing in the granary, climbing up and down the giant piles of grains. Sometimes he would take a mouthful and would spray it all out with much force. He got distracted from his games and heard her calls. Wondering who it was and why they were making calls, he decided to satisfy his curiosity and surreptitiously stepped out of the palace. The maids employed by Yashoda though aware of his activities, didn’t stop him. They were supposed to watch over him and inform Yashoda if there was an imminent threat to her son.

In anticipation of a response from Nanda’s palace, the old fruit seller was watching in the same direction when she saw a child standing on the threshold of the palace gates. Hesitating to approach her at first, he stood there, unsure of what to do. She had heard from others fantastic stories about Nanda’s son, the dark-hued one with incredible charm. Stories in the land of Braj were rife with how people lost their senses upon seeing him and how the womenfolk would feel a powerful surge of maternal affection for him. Though most intrigued, the old lady had never tried to venture into Nanda’s palace. This was the first time she saw him, and yes, she felt the same upsurge of motherly affection in her heart. She fought hard but couldn’t hold back her tears. She had never been a mother, yet she knew that what she felt then was what a mother felt for her child. Her apparel was drenched with tears. Wiping them, she beckoned Krsna to come to her.

Krsna approached her and asked her what she had in her basket. She removed the cover and showed him ripe oranges, bananas, and mangoes. Krsna held out his hand and asked her to give them to him. The old lady said, “Do you want to buy them all? What price will you give for them?” The propounder of Geeta was confused. He was unaware of the concept of price and asked her what she meant. She said, “You must give me something in return for these fruits.” Krsna was further confused and said to her. “Why are you saying weird things to me? My mother and all the gopikas keep giving me so many things, but I don’t give them anything in return, nor do they ever ask.” The old lady smiled and said, “But you will have to give me something for these fruits.” The old lady was still weeping. The most intelligent personality in the three worlds could not fathom the reason for her crying and assumed it must be for the price she wanted, just as he would cry when he wanted something.

Krsna ran into the granary, scooped up a handful of grains, and ran back to her. The Lord, from whom nothing escapes, couldn’t hold onto the grains in his hands. Most of it drained away through the small apertures between his tiny fingers. By the time he reached back, he had a few grains left, which he offered to her. The old lady took it and asked Krsna, “A few grains for a basket full of fruits? Is that a fair bargain?” Krsna gestured with his hands and said, “I got a handful for you, but it all slipped away. ‘Maiyaa’ will catch me if I go again. Please give me the fruits now.” The old lady started crying and said, “How fortunate your mother is to have a child like you? I am so unfortunate. No one has ever called me ‘Maiyaa.’ How sweet it sounds from your lips? Yashoda is so blessed – she gets to drink the nectar of you calling her ‘Maiyaa’ every day.”

Krsna was not sure what was happening but figured out that calling the old lady ‘Maiyaa’ may get him the fruits he wanted so much. He slowly crawled onto her lap and, looking up at her, said, ” Maiyaa, please give me the fruits.” The old lady, now inundated in joyful tears, nodded in affirmative. She started taking out the fruits and put them in Krsna’s hands one by one. To her surprise, Krsna’s tiny hands could hold them all. Krsna smiled and ran into the palace. She saw the few grains in her hand and dropped them into her basket, and lo!! Her entire basket was full of precious gems and diamonds.