Few childhood stories in India have travelled as far as that of Krishna. It begins at midnight in a prison in Mathura, with a child born under threat, and continues through temples, songs, kitchens and crowded streets more than two thousand years later.
According to tradition, Krishna was born to Devaki and Vasudeva, imprisoned by King Kansa after a prophecy foretold that Devaki’s eighth son would bring about his downfall. On the night Krishna was born, the prison doors opened, the guards fell asleep and Vasudeva carried the newborn through the storm and across the Yamuna to safety in Gokul. There, raised by Nanda and Yashoda, the child destined to defeat a king became remembered just as affectionately for something far more ordinary: his love of butter.
The stories of Krishna stealing makhan with his friends gave India one of Janmashtami’s most exuberant traditions. During Dahi Handi, particularly across Maharashtra, earthen pots filled with curd or butter are suspended high above the street while teams of Govindas climb onto one another’s shoulders, building human pyramids to reach them. Mumbai turns the childhood mischief into spectacle: drums thunder, crowds gather, pyramids rise and fall, and eventually someone reaches the handi.
What began as the story of a child reaching for a pot of butter has survived as something larger—a celebration of playfulness, devotion, courage and collective effort.
Krishna Janmashtami, ultimately, remembers a god through the stories of a child. And Dahi Handi makes sure India still gets to play along.
