From the presence of the venerable matriarch of the Chola clan, Azhwarkadiyan set out towards the palace of the Young Princess. The sights he beheld along the streets of Pazhayarai filled him with great enthusiasm. How joyously these people were celebrating the sacred day of Krishna’s birth! There could be no doubt that Vaishnavism was destined to take root and spread throughout this Chola land. True, there were many reasons for the growing influence of Saivism here. For a hundred years, the kings of the Chola dynasty had been building new Shiva temples across the realm. The hymns of the three great Saivite saints were being propagated through these temples. Grand temple festivals and processions were conducted with great pomp. Yet, for all this, the glory of Lord Thirumal had not diminished in the least. Krishna, the ninth and complete incarnation of Vishnu, had captured the hearts of the people.

The divine exploits performed by the Lord in Gokulam, Brindavan, and northern Madurai had taken up residence in their souls. Ah! How many groups of Bhagavathas! How many street plays! How many different costumes and disguises! Yes, there were more now than ever before. The crowds that gathered around these troupes, their excitement and noise, too, had grown greater than before. New drama troupes kept arriving from the villages surrounding Pazhayarai.

In one such troupe, Vasudeva, Devaki, Krishna, Balarama, and Kamsa appeared in costume. There was much singing, dancing, and dialogue among the performers in this group, so Azhwarkadiyan paused to watch. At that moment, a conversation was taking place between Krishna and Kamsa. The boy playing Krishna, in his childish voice, listed out the crimes committed by Kamsa and challenged, “Come, fight with me!” In reply, Kamsa, in a loud, thunderous voice, declared, “Hey, Krishna! Your tricks and illusions will not work on me any longer. I am going to kill you now. I will kill your brother Balarama too. I will kill your father Vasudeva as well. And look there—standing with his body smeared in sandal paste and marked with sacred symbols—that fierce Vaishnavite—I will kill him too!”

At this, everyone standing around turned to look at our Azhwarkadiyan and burst into laughter. Even those dressed as Krishna and Balarama turned their gaze upon him. Many in the crowd pressed closer, surrounding him, laughing boisterously and making fun of him. Thirumalai Nambi was seized by a tremendous anger. He spun the staff in his hand, wondering if he should try it out on someone in that crowd. Most of all, he longed to land a blow on that Kamsan’s head. But there was no use striking Kamsan’s head, for the man playing Kamsan had covered his own face and was wearing a fearsome false head made of wood, adorned with a grotesque moustache and sharp teeth, painted with vivid colors. All in all, Thirumalai decided it would not be wise to use his staff in such a large gathering, and so he slipped away from that place.

Even