
Kanda 2
Midnight, and a river
On the night the guard was heaviest, somebody walked out
When everyone fell asleep
All of Mathura was waiting for the eighth birth. Security had been doubled. Devaki's chains were tight, every prison door was locked, and soldiers stood guard at every turn.
At midnight the child was born. And in that instant, the entire prison seemed to hold its breath.
The guards slipped into sleep. Devaki's chains came open with a rattle. And the heavy iron doors, which took four men to push, slid aside on their own without a sound.
Vasudeva lifted the child, put him in a basket, balanced it on his head, and walked out along the corridor. Not one soldier opened an eye.
The Yamuna, that night
Outside, a storm was raging. The rain was so heavy that Vasudeva could barely see an arm's length ahead, and the Yamuna was up over both its banks, roaring.
Vasudeva stepped into the water. There was no way back — the prison behind him, this river ahead.
The Bhagavata's story says that the waters parted and made way for him, and above him a huge Shesha spread his hoods and held the rain off the child.
An old man, a basket on his head, floodwater to his waist — and all around him something was happening that the laws of nature should not have allowed. Vasudeva did not look back.
The swap in Gokul
Nanda's house lay asleep. Yashoda had given birth to a girl that same night and was fast asleep from exhaustion — she never knew anyone had come in.
Vasudeva laid his son down beside Yashoda, picked up her girl, and immediately started back. He said not a word, woke nobody.
The moment he returned to the prison, everything went back to the way it had been — doors shut, chains tight, guards awake. As though Vasudeva had never risen.
Then the girl cried. And the instant they heard her, the soldiers ran to fetch Kamsa.
The one who slipped out of his hands
Kamsa came half-asleep, a bare sword in his hand. He stopped the moment he entered the cell — it was a girl.
For a moment he hesitated. Then he told himself the prophecy could be false, but the risk could not be taken. He took the child by the hair and raised his arm to dash her against the stone threshold.
The child slipped out of his fist and rose into the air. Where she had been, an eight-armed goddess now stood.
"The one you are looking for has already been born — and he is not here."
Then she vanished. Kamsa was left standing alone, sword in hand, with nothing left to strike.
Note: The guards falling asleep, the chains opening, the crossing of the Yamuna and the swap in Gokul — this whole sequence is found in the tenth skandha of the Bhagavata Purana. The current text of the Harivamsha also has the swap and the child turning into a goddess, along with one detail the Bhagavata does not have in this form: Kamsa regrets it afterwards. The detail of the water parting by itself is plain in the Bhagavata; it did not appear in that same chapter of the Harivamsha, so it should not be treated as something every text says.
Source: from several texts, Midnight, and a river