Praised Today, Blamed Tomorrow: The Eternal Lesson from Krishna's Mathura
The air in Mathura was electric when Krishna slew Kamsa. The
tyrant king who had terrorized his own people, imprisoned his sister Devaki,
and murdered her children one by one was finally dead. The crowd erupted.
Krishna was their deliverer, their hero, the young cowherd from Vrindavan who
had done what armies could not. Flowers were thrown. Conches were blown. The
name of Krishna rang through the streets.
That was yesterday.
The Storm After the Celebration
Kamsa was no ordinary king. He was the son-in-law of
Jarasandha, the immensely powerful ruler of Magadha, described in the
Mahabharata as one of the mightiest kings of his era, a man whose very name
made kingdoms tremble. When news of Kamsa's death reached him, Jarasandha did
not grieve quietly. He mobilized his vast armies and marched on Mathura with
the fury of a man who believed the world owed him vengeance.
And just like that, the same crowd that had celebrated
Krishna began to murmur. Whispers turned into open complaint. "Why did
Krishna provoke such a powerful king?" "Was it worth killing Kamsa if
Jarasandha would destroy us all?" "Who will save us now?"
The people had forgotten that they were never truly cheering
for Krishna. They were cheering for their own relief. The moment that relief
was threatened, the applause turned into accusation.
Seventeen Battles, One Unwavering Resolve
Jarasandha did not attack once. He attacked Mathura
seventeen times. Each time, Krishna and Balarama led the defense. Each time,
the armies of Magadha were repelled. The Bhagavata Purana and the Mahabharata
both recount this relentless siege, emphasizing that Krishna never flinched,
never abandoned his people, even as those very people questioned his decisions.
This is perhaps the most quietly heroic detail of the entire
episode. Krishna did not defend Mathura to earn back the crowd's approval. He
defended it because it was his dharma. He protected those who doubted him with
the same commitment he would have shown those who worshipped him.
The Bhagavad Gita speaks directly to this spirit. In Chapter
3, Verse 19, Krishna tells Arjuna:
"Tasmad asaktah satatam karyam karma samacara, asakto
hy acaran karma param apnoti purushah."
"Therefore, without attachment, always perform the
action that must be done; for by performing action without attachment, one
attains the Supreme."
Krishna lived this verse before he ever spoke it.
The Symbolism of the Crowd
The crowd in this story is not merely a historical detail.
It is a symbol of the human mind caught in the cycle of comfort and fear. When
life is good, we are generous with our gratitude. When threatened, we are
equally generous with our blame. The crowd's behavior around Krishna is the
behavior of the unsteady mind, what the Gita calls the mind that has not yet
achieved sthitaprajna, or steady wisdom.
Jarasandha himself is symbolic. He represents the
consequences that sometimes follow right action. Doing the right thing, killing
a tyrant, does not guarantee peace immediately. Dharma often invites its own
battles. The lesson is not to avoid doing what is right because of the trouble
it may bring. The lesson is to do what is right and then stand firm in the
storm that follows.
The Decision to Move: Wisdom Over Ego
After the seventeenth attack, seeing that continued battle
in Mathura would cause endless suffering to civilians, Krishna made the
profound decision to relocate his people to the fortress city of Dwaraka, built
on the western coast. This was not cowardice. This was strategic wisdom rooted
in compassion. In fact, some texts refer to Krishna as Ranchhod, meaning
"one who left the battlefield," a name his devotees use not in
mockery but in deep affection, understanding the sacrifice of ego it took to
make that decision.
A lesser leader would have stayed and fought for glory.
Krishna left for the people.
Modern Day Relevance
In today's world, leaders, professionals, artists, and
ordinary people face versions of this same crowd every day. Social media has
turned public opinion into a revolving door of praise and blame, often within
the same news cycle. A person celebrated in the morning is cancelled by
evening. The crowd, as it always has been, is driven by convenience and emotion
rather than principle.
The Krishna-Jarasandha episode teaches that one's actions
must be rooted in purpose, not in the pursuit of applause. Consistency, courage
under criticism, and protecting others even when they doubt you — these are the
marks of genuine character.
The Life Lesson
The crowd will always be the crowd. It praises the sunrise
and curses the rain, forgetting that both are necessary. What defines a person
is not how they respond to applause but how they hold steady when the applause
turns to stones.
Krishna never asked Mathura to trust him. He simply kept showing up. That, perhaps, is the deepest teaching of all.