Sandhya Kathaसंध्या कथा

The Morning After Naraka

Bhāgavata Purāṇa — Skandha 10, chapter 59

Tradition note. The Bhāgavata gives the war, Satyabhāmā's hand and the women brought out of his house. The dying request — lamps rather than mourning — is the festival's own story. It is why the fourteenth of the dark fortnight is called Naraka Chaturdaśī, and why in the south that day, not the new moon after it, is Deepavali.

Before you begin. A war and a death, told at a distance — no wounds described. Two harder things sit in the middle of it: thousands of women were being held in his house against their will, said plainly and without detail, and the man who dies is somebody's son, and his mother is in the room. Both are the point rather than decoration.

Ages 8+3 min aloudthe mercy nobody had to givea villain who is not only that

Narakāsura had taken a great deal that was not his, and the last of it was a pair of earrings belonging to the mother of the gods.

So Kṛṣṇa went to get them back. And he did not go alone.

pause

Satyabhāmā went with him, onto the field, which queens in these stories generally do not.

There was a reason. Naraka had a protection on him — he could not be brought down by Kṛṣṇa. Nobody had thought to include Kṛṣṇa's wife.

It was her hand at the end. The tellings are firm about that, and it is the part most people have never been told.

pause

Then they went into his house, and found sixteen thousand women being kept there who did not want to be.

They were let out. And then there was the question nobody wants in a story — where sixteen thousand women were supposed to go, in a world that would not take them back. Kṛṣṇa married all of them, which was not romance. It was a roof.

pause

And Naraka was somebody's son. His mother is the earth, and she was there, and she asked for his boy to be left alone, and she was listened to.

Then he asked for something himself, at the end, which is the strangest request in the whole festival: that when people remembered this day — the fourteenth, the chaturdaśī — they should not remember it as the day he lost. They should light lamps and be glad.

His city had been ringed with hills and water and fire and a net of nooses, and all of it had to come apart before anyone could even see him. She stood in the same chariot for the whole of it.

Everyone remembers the lamps. Almost nobody remembers that the man they are for asked for them himself, on the worst day of his life.

Now turn to your child

He could have asked for anything at the end. He asked that people be happy on the day he lost. Why do you think that was what he wanted?

And if they shrug, you can leave it at this: How a day gets remembered is sometimes the last thing anybody can choose.

Something isn't right here

If a name, a detail or a tradition is wrong here, tell us. Nobody needs an account and we do not ask who you are — so please leave your own details out of the box.

This is the short telling. The longer one, tonight's pick, and the rest of the collection are in the app — free, nothing to install.

Open Sandhya Katha