The traditional narrative begins in Mathura, where Devaki and her husband Vasudeva of the Yadava clan are placed under harsh confinement by Devaki’s cousin, the tyrant King Kamsa. A prophecy has warned Kamsa that Devaki’s eighth child will be the cause of his death, and in his fear he resolves to destroy each child at birth. One by one, the first six infants are killed by the king, and the couple remain imprisoned, living under the shadow of this terrible vow. Against this backdrop of oppression and dread, the stage is set for a birth that is both humanly tragic and cosmically significant.

When the eighth child, Krishna, is finally born in the prison, the event is accompanied by divine intervention. The chains that bind Vasudeva fall away, the prison doors open of their own accord, and the guards sink into deep sleep. On a stormy night, Vasudeva carries the newborn across the swelling waters of the Yamuna River toward Gokula. The river is said to part or allow safe passage, while the great serpent Shesha rises and spreads his hoods above the child, shielding him from the rain. This journey through darkness and danger becomes a powerful symbol of protection and hidden grace at the very moment of Krishna’s arrival in the world.

In Gokula, Vasudeva reaches the home of Nanda and Yashoda, where a baby girl has just been born. He exchanges the infant Krishna for this newborn daughter and returns to the prison with the girl in his arms, the doors and chains resuming their former appearance. When Kamsa learns that an eighth child has been born, he rushes to kill the baby, believing he has finally thwarted the prophecy. As he attempts to dash the child against a stone, she slips from his grasp, rises into the sky, and reveals herself as the goddess Yogamaya or Durga. She declares that the one destined to destroy him has already been born elsewhere and is beyond his reach.

Krishna meanwhile grows up in Gokula, nurtured by Nanda and Yashoda in a pastoral setting, unaware in his early years of his royal birth and the threat that hangs over him. The entire birth story thus presents a profound theological vision: a divine being, regarded as an avatar of Vishnu, enters the world under conditions of secrecy and peril, protected by unseen forces and simple village folk rather than royal power. The narrative intertwines human fear and cruelty with an unyielding assurance that dharma will ultimately be restored, suggesting that even in the darkest confinement, a liberating presence can quietly take birth and begin its work.