The Witch’s Tale

Naughty Krishna holding a piece of candy

Note: After I posted my article “Krishna and the Witch,” describing how Lord Krishna killed the demoniac witch Putana, 5,000 years ago, then my godbrother Yogesvara Dasa (Joshua M. Green) suggested that I try telling the incident from the witch’s point of view.

So I tried. It’s not an exact retelling of scripture. Maybe an adaptation? A scriptural fiction? A short story?

Whatever you want to call it, I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing  it.

The Witch’s Tale

H

are Krishna. I won’t tell you my name, but when you get to the spiritual world, you’ll know who I am.

When I lived on earth, my name was Putana, and I was a demoniac witch who killed babies. And now you must be wondering how a bloodthirsty witch could get to the spiritual sky, so I’ll tell you my story. It was Krishna’s mercy.

I was walking down a forest path one afternoon, looking for a place to sit and rest, when I heard a noise in the distance behind me. I turned around and saw a man running toward me. As he got closer, I recognized him. It was Mrityu Das, a servant of King Kamsa. He caught up with me and bowed his head in respect.

“Greetings, O great witch. I have a letter for you from King Kamsa.”

The letter was written on a palm leaf and rolled into a scroll, tied with a string. The knot was so complicated it took me a good five minutes to untie it. My long fingernails kept getting in the way.

Finally I was able to read the letter aloud.

“My dear witch,” it began. “You are my favorite killer of babies. Please go to Vrindaban and kill a baby named Krishna. He is the son of Nanda Maharaja, the local king. It is predicted that he will kill me when he grows up, so please kill him now.”

I laughed. “Who cares about a prediction? No one can defeat King Kamsa, so why should I bother?”

Mrityu lifted up his right hand, palm turned toward me, almost in a pushing gesture. “Better to do what the king wants. You know what he’s like when he gets angry.”

I nodded. “All right. Anyway, it’ll be fun. Tell the king I’ll kill this little Krishna.”

He went on his way.

First I had to transform my appearance. They wouldn’t let me near this Krishna if I looked like a witch. So I whispered the incantations for beauty. I could teach them to you, but you don’t need them unless you look like a witch.

Immediately I looked like a beautiful woman, with ample breasts and wide hips, wearing beautiful clothes and dazzling jewelry. But I still had to utter another charm to transform my pointed teeth and claw-like fingernails.

And there was a little problem with the jewelry. I did not much like diamonds. I found them to be scratchy.  But I would put up with it. I had to get on to Vrindaban and kill Krishna.

But one more thing. I rubbed jasmine oil on my breasts to make them fragrant, and I smeared a powerful but sweet-tasting poison on my nipples. This baby Krishna would suck on the sweet taste and die from the poison. Quick and easy.

Time to get moving. We witches know how to fly on a severed tree branch, so I started looking for one, but all I could find was one that was a bit short. I would have to hold on tight.

So I sat on the branch, uttered the incantation and took off. In a few minutes, I was just outside of Vrindaban, so I brought branch down to the  ground and stood up. My knees ached from sitting on the  branch, so I shook my legs a bit. Then I straightened my clothes, smoothed my hair, and walked into Vrindaban. My plan was unfolding.

In the distance cows were mooing, and their cowbells clanked as the cows walked here and there. A peacock wailed in  a tree and a parrot flew overhead. The fragrance of wildflowers filled the air. The jeweled doorways of the houses glistened in the sunlight.

Such a beautiful place… Wouldn’t it be fun to destroy it!

Now I had to find the house of King Nanda, Krishna’s father. I took a few wrong turns and had to ask people for directions, but at last I found it. It wouldn’t be long now before Krishna would be dead. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. I could almost taste his blood. Ha ha!

The door was open, so I walked in. I found myself in a large airy room in front of two seated women. They stood up to greet me.

One of them walked up to me, palms joined and fingers pointing upward in a gesture of respect. She had curly black hair tied with a red ribbon. I knew this must be Yashoda, Krishna’s mother.

She smiled and nodded her head. “Welcome, O traveler. Would you like to sit down?”

The other woman also joined her palms and smiled. “You must be thirsty. Can I get you something sweet to drink?”

This must be Rohini, Yashoda’s friend.

“What brings you here today?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. I just wanted to find Krishna. I saw some rooms with open doors, so I looked in each one till I saw a baby on a bed. I started to walk in.

Yashoda came up to me. “You want to see Krishna? Come in.”

We walked into the room Baby Krishna was lying on the bed. His skin was dark, but his palms and the soles of his feet were pink. His eyes reminded me of lotus petals.

“So this is Krishna.” I said.

“This is no ordinary baby,” I thought. “He looks powerful enough to destroy the universe.  No  wonder Kamsa is afraid of him.”

Krishna closed his eyes.

“Don’t you want to look at me, my darling?” I said.

“Babies do funny things,” said Rohini.

I bared one breast.

“Are you going to nurse him?” asked Yashoda. “How sweet of you!”

We’ll see how sweet you think it is in a few minutes when I kill him.

“Come to Mama, darling,” I said as I picked up Krishna. I could hardly keep from laughing as I held him to my breast and pushed the poisoned nipple into his mouth. He started to suck.

I smiled. “That’s right, honey.”

Then I froze. Oh no!

With one hand Krishna was squeezing my breast so hard I couldn’t stand the pain. He started kicking me with his baby feet, but they felt like a sledge hammers.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Go away!”

Krishna kept sucking and sucking till I could feel him sucking out my very life.

“Stop, child!” I shouted. “Go away! Leave me alone!”

Yashoda and Rohini were staring at me.

“Stop him!” I shouted. “He’s sucking out my life!” I tried to pull Krishna off, but he held on tight.

And Krishna kept squeezing like a vise and kicking like a hammer as he sucked.  The pain was worse than having boiling water poured on me.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Go away! Go away!” I tried to pull him off again, but he held on, squeezing and kicking and sucking.

I ran out the door, screaming in pain, but Krishna held on.

“Stop! Stop! Somebody help me!”

I ran across the village onto the pasturing field. I fell backward onto the ground with a loud crash.

It was over.

I don’t remember what happened in the few seconds after that, but suddenly I was standing looking at my body on the ground.

Then it dawned on me. I was dead.

Yes, dead. But I was seeing and thinking and feeling. I saw my body lying on the ground. It had resumed its demoniac form, huge with pointed teeth and clawlike fingernails and eye sockets like dark wells.

Then I understood. Death simply means leaving the body. The self does not die. I used to laugh at the sages for saying that, but now I saw they were right.

I was feeling clean and cool in a way I had never felt before. And I knew why. Krishna had sucked out my impurities along with my life air.

Now Baby Krishna was sitting on the breast of the dead body. He looked over at me and smiled with a twinkle in his eye. He moved his arms up and down the way a baby does.

Suddenly I wanted to hug Krishna. I wanted to kiss him and dance with him in my arms and give him gallons of breast milk. I wanted to hold him up in the air and pull him down to my breasts and make him laugh. I wanted to bathe him and dress him and put his feet on my head and tell him I love him.

Rohini and Yashoda came running. They stopped in their tracks and laughed when they saw Krishna unharmed. Yashoda picked Krishna up and they turned around and headed home.

When I first met Yashoda and Rohini I thought I could cheat them.  Now I wanted to serve them and worship them and take the dust of their feet on my head.

Then… Well I can’t describe what happened next, how I got to the spiritual kingdom. You’ll see what it’s like when your turn comes.

Now I live near Krishna in  the eternal world. I see him every day and give him my breast milk. Sometimes he calls me Mother, and it makes me feel all warm and smiley inside. Every chance I get, I serve Yashoda and Rohini.

I wanted to kill Krishna, but Krishna purified me and brought me here to the spiritual world. Who could be more merciful than Krishna?

Oh, and one more thing. When Krishna was a teenager he did kill the demoniac King Kamsa. So the prediction came true. Well, I guess it’s like the sages say: Whom Krishna wants to protect, no one can kill; whom Krishna wants to kill, no one can protect.

Hare Krishna.

⁓as told to Umapati Swami, July 5, 2025

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ove it? Hate it? Got a question? Write to me: hoswami@yahoo.com

© Umapati Swami 2025

Srila Prabhupada

His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada is the teacher who brought Krishna Consciousness from India to the West and then to the rest of the world. He is the founder of the worldwide Hare Krishna Movement as well as the author and compiler of many works of Vedic knowledge. He left this world in 1977.

Umapati Swami

One of the first American devotees of the Hare Krishna Movement, he became Srila Prabhupada’s disciple in 1966. Since then, he has preached Krishna Consciousness in many countries and is the author of “My Days with Prabhupada,” available from Amazon. Now 88 years old, he maintains this blog to share what he has learned.