Putana and Kamsa

Putana hesitated, her hand on the knob, her eyes staring unseeing at the intricate carvings and etchings on the large, ornate door. She dreaded what she’d hear when she crossed the threshold. 

“You are to come immediately to the palace. King Kamsa has a job for you.” The messenger had said, leaving her heart cold with fear. 

She had thought she had her fear under control since then. But now, close to the man with whom she had been out of touch for a while now, her heartbeat increased, driven by an irrational fear – one that she seemed to have developed recently. 

Holding back her dread, she turned the knob and walked in. 

Kamsa was staring out of the big window on the western side. The setting sun covered the sprawling city of Mathura with a beautiful orange hue. Mathura was the capital of the Vrishni kingdom, which Kamsa had usurped from his father, the old King Ugrasen, now languishing in prison. 

He turned around as she walked in, and his eyes lit up.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Putana. How are you? How are Aghasura and Vakasura? I haven’t spoken to you and your brothers in a long time. We must meet and catch up soon.”

“Of course, my King.” Putana couldn’t make eye contact with him. She stared at his feet instead, hoping he would see it as deference to his might and power.  

“But today, I have a very important job for you.”

“What is it, my Lord?” Putana asked, her heart lurching at the prospect of some evil deed.

Why have I become like this? Didn’t I enjoy doing the cruel things he had wanted me to do earlier? Kill infants in an unflustered jiffy? Why the change now? Is the pot of my evil karma overflowing so much that I can’t handle it anymore? Or is it that my end is near? Whatever the reason, I don’t want to kill any more children. Instead, I want redemption.

“Go to Gokul, Putana,” commanded Kamsa, his tone harsh with unrestrained cruelty slicing through her thoughts.

“Why?” Putana cried, unwittingly voicing her anguish. “My Lord Kamsa, you are invincible. You don’t need to fear anyone. You have killed all the children of Devaki.”

The menacing look Kamsa gave her chilled her bones. She looked away with filler words, “Aah, Hmm…I thought..I believe…”

“No! One has got away, the most important one! I need you to finish my unfinished job. I have heard from my spies that Devaki’s eighth baby has found refuge in Gokul. Go there and kill all the infants less than a year old.”

“All the infants?” Putana looked aghast, suddenly realising how deep his cruelty had festered.

“Yes, all the infants! I’m not sure where this child is hiding. I don’t want to take any chances,” Kamsa thundered, a mix of fear, scepticism, and feigned arrogance evident in his voice. 

“And why are you refuting me suddenly? Why so many questions? Just do as I order you, Putana. Have you forgotten your fealty to me? Or have you lost your power?”

Putana didn’t dare look at him. Her eyes brimmed with guilt-ridden, unshed tears. Yes, she wanted the best for him. She had wholeheartedly supported King Kamsa in his rise to power, using the poison in her breasts as a powerful weapon, killing children with the potential to stand against his dominion if they lived to adulthood. 

But, somehow, these last few months, she had lost the streak of cruelty that made her a favourite of Kamsa. The ghosts of the hundreds of children she had slaughtered came in hordes in her nightmares, baring fangs of anger and resentment, biting into her flesh, and laughing coquettishly as she squealed in abominable pain. 

She sought forgiveness, peace, and love, all of which eluded her. Even now, as she thought of her nightmares, her hair stood on edge and she shivered in fright. From the corner of her eye, she could see the ghosts laying in wait for her to close her eyes so they could invade her peaceful sleep. She woke up most nights wishing she were dead. 

And here Kamsa was, wanting her to kill more children. She wanted to say no. But she knew she could never refute him. Never ever! Just as her brothers would never be able to say no to him. They were bound to Kamsa for life.

So, she bowed low and said, “As you command. I will leave immediately to Gokul.”

Putana and Kanha

The women of Gokul were all waiting to nurse Kanha, the new beloved child of Gokul, his dark skin wonderfully contrasting with the white of his large lotus-petalled eyes. He was the most beautiful baby they had ever laid their eyes on.

Yashoda, mother of Krishna, had a tough time putting off the women of Gokul from mollycoddling, hugging, and nursing the little one. In less than a month, he had become the apple of the eye of the entire community of cattle-herders in Vrindavan. 

Her breasts heavy with nourishing milk, Putana, in the guise of a svelte, sultry, seductive lady sauntered into the courtyard of Kanha’s home in Gokul, her gorgeous beauty hiding her deadly intentions. 

The waiting women gave way to Putana, a combination of envy and admiration writ large on her faces.  Ignoring the women entirely, and utterly confident of the effect she was having on them, and the men ogling at her, Putana walked straight into the house. 

The guileless Yashoda happily received her, delighted to show off her lovely, adorable baby to a newcomer. 

Putana – Ratnamala

“Come, my dear friend. What is your name? And where are you coming from?”

“My name is Pari, and I come all the way from Mathura, thanks to the wonderful stories of this wondrous baby that is the talk of our community.”

Overjoyed to see how famous her son had become, Yashoda lifted little Kanha from his crib and handed him over to Putana who took the child bundled in beautiful silk clothes, her ears bearing pretty golden trinkets, and his neck adorned with a peacock-designed necklace.

Despite the glittering jewels adorning the baby, his biggest ornament was his disarming smile that melted Putana’s heart. The instant she gazed into his eyes, she felt an ancient emotion that lay deeply buried in her soul rise to the surface. 

And then she looked into his eyes. Those eyes! They were not new to her. They were not just familiar but also seemed to know her as much as she knew them. She gazed, transfixed, and in that one moment, she knew she was to be liberated forever.

In a flash, her past, embedded in her deep consciousness, found its way to the conscious mind. Those eyes were the same ones she saw in another birth, in another Yuga, when she was Ratnamala, the beloved sister of King Bali, the powerful, kind, and compassionate Asura king ruling over the three worlds, radiating strength in all directions.

When the adorably likeable Vamana walked towards the yagna stage, Ratnamala’s desire to hold, cuddle, and nurse the boy arose in her heart, like a gigantic, uncontrollable, swirling tide tossed and turned by the full moon. Her heart full of love, Ratnamala looked longingly at the young boy, wishing him to become a baby so he could suckle her breasts, as a son would his mother’s breasts. 

She was unaware then of the boy’s true intentions. The boy has also returned her look with a gaze that bored into her very soul, as if acknowledging her desire. 

When her brother, King Bali, offered his head for the third step of Lord Vamana, whom they had all recognised a bit too late was none other than Lord Vishnu, Ratnamala was immeasurably angry at the apparent injustice caused to the Asura community. She swore to take revenge against Vishnu and all his devotees, even if it took many births. Her heart held onto the desire to cuddle and nurse the boy, passing it through her genetic memory until its fulfilment. 

Today, the eyes of Kanha bore into her soul just as Vamana’s eyes had bored into Ratnamala’s soul. Putana instantly recognised the power of this baby, and realised wholeheartedly her time for redemption had come, merging with that desire to nurse the Lord of the Universe, 

Putana’s Redemption

Of course, she had to be redeemed. That hatred and anger for Lord Vishnu had carried her soul from Ratnamala to Putana in this birth, as a relative and deadly close associate of King Kamsa. She had used the poison in her breast to kill many infants, as ordered by Kamsa. She had followed his orders blindly as a way to fuel her desire for revenge for the Asura clan. 

And so, as she took Baby Kanha under her blouse and covered him with the pallu of her saree, tears glistened as her misdeeds raced through her mind’s eyes. She felt his mouth tug at her nipple, and she felt strangely at peace as the poison that filled her body, mind, and soul left her, dragged out by the baby’s suckling mouth. As the last drop of poison left her body, she fell dead, her soul liberated to rejoin the One Source, her pot of karma empty as she surrendered herself completely to the Lord of the Universe. 

Author’s Note:

While it’s popular known that the story Putana’s redemption is found in Bhagavata Purana, the lesser known (and a later addition) story of Putana’s previous birth as Ratnamala, the sister of King Bali, is found is Brahma Vaivarta Purana.

This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla in collaboration with Cerebration – Think with body, mind & soul.