One night the soothing rays of the full moon illumined the courtyard of Nanda’s house. Yasoda sat there talking with some elderly gopis while Krishna played nearby gazing at the moon. Sneaking up behind Yasoda, Krishna removed the veil covering her head, loosened her braid, and patted her on the back to get her attention with His butter-soft lotus palms. His voice choked up as He continually cried. Yasoda’s heart swelled with maternal love, so she indicated with a glance that her friends should attend to Krishna..With great respect and affection the gopis enthusiastically lifted up Krishna and asked, "O darling! What do you want? Do you want some khira?
" Krsna replied, "No, No!"
"Do you want some thick creamy yoghurt?"
Krishna replied, "No, No!"
"Do you want some cheese?" Again Krishna said,
"No, no! I want freshly churned condensed butter.
" The gopis continued, "Do not lament or be angry with your mother. What do you mean by ‘condensed butter’?"
Pointing His little index finger to the full moon, Krishna replied, "I want that freshly churned condensed butter!"
The elderly gopis said, "O Vatsa! Do not mistake the moon for a huge piece of butter. It is a rajahamsa (royal swan) gliding across the lake of the sky." Krishna said, "Then give Me that rajahamsa so I can play with him. Quickly catch him before he reaches the bank of the lake. Full of anxiety, Krishna kicked His legs and cried loudly, "Give me! Give me!"
While Krishna showed his childish antics, some other gopis said, "O darling! They have lied to You. What You see is not a rajahamsa, but it is the moon hanging in the sky and it is called Candra." Krishna said, "Then give me that Candra! I really want it so I can play with it. Right now! Get it!"
Yasoda placed her crying son on her lap and comforted Him, "Darling! Actually it is freshly churned condensed butter! Definitely, it is not a rajahamsa nor is it the moon. Regardless, I can never give it to you. Just see by chance or by the arrangement of Providence it has poisonous spots on it. Although it looks very tasty, no one in this world can eat it."
Then Krishna said, "Mother, mother! Why is it stained with spots of poison? What is poison anyway?" Seeing a change in Krishna’s mood, mother Yasoda embraced Him and spoke in a gentle, sweet voice. "Listen attentively my dearest son. There is an ocean of milk called Ksira-sagara."
Krishna: "Mother please tell Me about that? How many milk cows made that ocean?"
Yasoda: "Darling, the milk ocean was not made by cows."
Krishna: "Mother, you are lying to Me. How can there be milk without cows?"
Yasoda: "The one who gave cows the ability to produce milk can also make milk even without cows."
Krishna: "Who is He?"
Yasoda: "He is the Lord, the cause of creation. He is Bhagavan. He is immovable and all pervading. Although He is everywhere, I cannot show Him to You."
Krishna: "Well mother, are you telling Me the truth?"
Yasoda: "Long ago the demigods and the demons had a fight. To favor the demigods and bewilder the demons, the Lord churned the ocean of milk. Mandara Mountain served as the churning rod and Vasuki, the king of the serpents, offered his body for the rope. The demons and demigods stood on opposite sides pulling that rope."
Krishna: "Mother, did they churn the way the gopis do?"
Yasoda: "Yes my son. The churning of the Ksira-sagara produced a poison named kalakuta."
Krishna: "Mother, how did churning milk produce poison? Only snakes have poison."
Yasoda: "Darling, Mahadeva drank that poison. But the snakes drank the drops of poison that fell from his mouth. As a result, they now have poison. The poison rising from that milk is also the energy of the Lord."
Krishna: "Yes mother that is indeed true."
Yasoda: "Darling, this condensed butter you are seeing in the sky is produced from that Ksira-sagara. That is why the moon is spotted with the remnants of that poison. Look carefully, do you see it? Therefore, do not try to eat that butter, but please take my freshly churned butter instead." After hearing this description, Krishna felt sleepy so mother Yasoda put Him to rest in an opulent golden bed on a fluffy soft mattress, whiter than powdered camphor.
Ananda Vrindavan Champu, Chapter five - Kavi Karnapur
