“’O naughty child, now try going from here, if you can.’ Having spoken thus, she returned to her household duties.” (Vishnu Purana, 5.6.15)

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यदि शक्नोषि गच्छ त्वम् अतिचञ्चलचेष्टित
इत्य् उक्त्वा च निजं कर्म सा चकार कुटुम्बिनी

yadi śaknoṣi gaccha tvam aticañcalaceṣṭita
ity uktvā ca nijaṃ karma sā cakāra kuṭumbinī

For a long time, it was the reliable form of punishment. No violence. No concerns about outside parties being involved. No long-term indications of crossing the line. This would not leave a mark, as they say. It still got the job done. The parents are in charge, after all. The parents know better than the children. At least that is how it is supposed to be. A long time ago, in the sacred farm community of Gokula, one loving mother gave a literal meaning to this tool in the belt of parenting aides. The person on the receiving end was so special that even while in the punished state He was able to accomplish something amazing.

We take a trip down memory lane. Back to when we were young. We were dependents. We had little independence, in fact. It was too cold outside to go anywhere. It is not like there was a neighborhood full of friends at the time. On your typical weekend, the lone recourse was television. It was a simpler time. We could actually turn on the device and start watching immediately. No delay caused by compression of a digital signal. No waiting to see what the guide says, to inform the viewer of the program and episode they are watching. There were not many channels, either, but we were happy. We had something to do. We had something to watch.

The risk, of course, was excess. We could never replicate what they refer to today as “binge-watching.” We almost had a timer in our head. We knew that if our mom saw us having too much fun, in sitting on the couch and watching something for hours in a row, she would get upset. She would start yelling. She would insist that we do something else. Something constructive, like read a book. We could even go outside, not accounting for the extreme temperatures.

What if we didn’t listen? Well, we would get in trouble. If we talked back. If we complained. If we continued to do what was prohibited. One time, she decided to utter the famous words. We knew what they meant, but how did she? Did they have this during her time, in the old country? How did she learn what this term was? Was she really going to try it on us?

We were grounded. We had to go to our room. No television. No music. The house only had one phone, and that was located in the kitchen. We were shut off from the outside world. Our punishment was to have every kind of enjoyment removed. We could still eat. Actually, we had to eat. At the designated time and whatever was placed on the table. If we complained, our punishment would extend further out. We would be grounded for even longer.

Long before there was television and home stereo equipment, a loving mother tried a similar form of punishment. Except this was grounding in the literal sense. Her beloved Krishna was no longer going to move. He had recently proved His dexterity in this area of ability. He exercised His chanchala spirit in carrying footprints made of butter throughout the house. He took some of the contraband with Him, distributing it to His equally naughty friends, the monkeys of the area.

Krishna should try moving now. He should try doing the same. He should attempt to move, now that He was literally grounded. He was tied to a mortar. No people were harmed in the process. There was no pain or burn. In fact, Yashoda kept failing, at first. She tried and tried again, as if she were attempting to reach Carnegie Hall. After practice, practice, and more practice, when it looked like she had finally given up, Krishna relented. He subtly gave the indication that He would approve of the punishment. This is a way God can speak to people. It is through indications. Sometimes, He does not have to say a word, even if He is as close by as a young son associated with His loving mother.

A naughty child might try to circumvent the punishment. When we were younger, we could have attempted an escape. Climb out the bedroom window, falling onto the shrubs decorating the front yard. Devise some contraption to bring us back in through the same window. It would be a little difficult if we were literally grounded, though. If we were so small that a mortar was holding us in place, just what could we do?

“Although He was able to pass through the passage, the large wooden mortar stuck horizontally between the trees. Taking advantage of this, Lord Krishna began to pull the rope which was tied to the mortar. As soon as He pulled, with great strength, the two trees, with all branches and limbs, fell down immediately with a great sound. Out of the broken, fallen trees came two great personalities, shining like blazing fire.”  (Krishna, The Supreme Personality of Godhead, Volume 1, Chapter 10)

In that punished state, Shri Krishna is able to relieve others of punishment. He did just that by moving the mortar in between two trees. Those trees dropped, as a result. The two living beings inside were then liberated. Their curse was over. They spent enough time thinking about what they previously did, back in the heavenly region, in failing to show proper respect to Narada Muni. They were blessed with the vision of Damodara. God as a grounded son, liberating the inhabitants of Gokula, each and every one.

In Closing:

Liberating each and every one,
As Gokula’s beloved son.

Even when literally tied,
In punishment mother tried.

To that mortar bound,
Like efforts to ground.

But still to those trees dragging,
Release for those devas tagging.

Categories: kutumbini

Tags: dailyprompt, damodara, hare krishna, parenting, poem, poems, poetry