Chapter 4: A Rhetorical Question

A Rhetorical Question

Nestled in the lap of nature, Vrindavan flourished amidst verdant forests and emerald meadows, lovingly embraced by the sacred river Yamuna. It was here that the Almighty, incarnated as little Krishna, chose to live among the simple cowherds as one of their own. He laughed, played, and roamed in the woods with the village boys like any ordinary child. Yet, beneath that enchanting innocence lay the boundless majesty of the Divine.

At every turn, glimpses of his supernatural nature unfolded. Through effortless miracles, extraordinary courage, and unfathomable compassion, he protected the people of Vrindavan from demons, natural calamities, and countless hardships. Time and again, he came to their rescue, dispelling fear and restoring hope. With every act of grace, the villagers' faith deepened that the charming cowherd boy in their midst was none other than God Himself.

His irresistible smile, playful mischief, and boundless love captivated every heart. The purest form of divine love radiated from the child, revealing to humanity a path of selfless devotion that had remained hidden since time immemorial.

Just as rain-laden clouds shower the earth with life-giving water, Krishna poured the nectar of divine love upon every soul he encountered. After all, both water and love are the elixirs that sustain life.

Soon, the fame of the wondrous child spread far beyond the borders of Vrindavan. Pilgrims, sages, and seekers journeyed from distant kingdoms, yearning for a single glimpse of the radiant boy whose smile seemed to dissolve every sorrow.

Yet, while he greeted every visitor with equal warmth, his own heart quietly longed for one soul alone...Radha.

Ever since their first meeting eight years earlier, not a single day had passed without Radha waiting to see him. Every breeze that stirred through Vrindavan seemed to whisper his name into her heart. With every breath she drew, she remembered Krishna, longing to meet him, speak with him, laugh with him, and lose herself in his innocent companionship.

Whenever Radha and Krishna met, their conversations became sacred exchanges of wisdom hidden beneath the simplicity of childhood. She gently introduced him to the ways of the earthly world, while he revealed to her the infinite mysteries of divine love. Every meeting enriched both, as though the finite and the Infinite delighted in learning from one another.

One bright morning, little Krishna came running to Radha's house. She was seated in the courtyard, rhythmically churning fresh curd into butter. Before she could turn around, two tiny arms wrapped themselves around her from behind.

"Radha... Radha Rani," he called sweetly, resting his cheek against her shoulder. "I am hungry. Will you give me some milk?"

She smiled, though there was a trace of playful complaint in her voice.

"You have not visited me since morning. I asked Vakula what my little Krishna was doing, and she told me that you had already finished drinking milk at home."

Krishna looked up with wide, innocent eyes.

"Then why am I still hungry, Radha?"

She stopped churning for a moment and lovingly brushed a curl away from his forehead.

"Your mother's milk nourishes your body, Krishna. It gives you the strength that every child receives from its source. But the hunger you feel now is different. It is the hunger to gather the strength needed for the purpose for which you have descended upon this earth....to nurture and awaken the world with love."

Looking towards the cowshed, she added thoughtfully,

"Since dawn, our black cow has refused to let anyone milk her. Perhaps she has been waiting only for you. Come, let us see."

Together they walked to the cowshed. As Radha gently stroked the cow and began milking her, streams of fresh, frothy milk flowed effortlessly into the vessel.

Krishna watched with childlike amazement.

"Radha... look!" he exclaimed. "Her body is dark like the night, yet the milk she gives is pure white. How can that be?"

Radha filled a silver cup with the warm milk and handed it to him. As he drank eagerly, she smiled at the wonder shining in his eyes.

"My dear Krishna," she said softly, "love has no colour. Every mother, whatever her outward appearance, carries only purity in her heart. When she nourishes her child, she offers nothing but that purity. Cows, too, are mothers. They produce more milk than their calves alone require so that humanity may also be nourished. That is why they deserve our reverence and gratitude."

Krishna nodded earnestly.

"I shall love them always, Radha. From today, every cow shall be my dear friend."

Yet another question sparkled in his eyes before he spoke.

"If colour does not matter, how did I know that beautiful lady who came to feed me was not truly a mother?"

Radha looked at him with quiet admiration.

"Yes, Krishna. She appeared beautiful, affectionate, and gentle. Yet you recognised the evil hidden behind her smile. Tell me, how did you know that Putana had come to kill you?"

Krishna lowered his gaze for a moment, as though searching within himself.

"I do not know, Radha. When I looked into her eyes, I could feel darkness hiding behind her affection. So I drew all that darkness into myself and freed the motherly instinct still imprisoned within her. A mother's hands are meant to cradle life, never to destroy it. A woman has been blessed with the sacred power to nurture creation. To use that gift for destruction is to go against the very rhythm of life."

Radha gently wiped the milk from his lips with the edge of her pallu and looked at him with boundless affection.

"Remember this always, Krishna. Never judge a woman by the beauty your eyes behold. Look into her soul instead. There, you will discover immeasurable love, endless sacrifice, and silent strength. A woman gives of herself without asking anything in return. That is beauty in its truest form. ---

"One day, when you grow to fulfil your divine mission, you will teach the world that true beauty does not reside in outward appearance, but in the invisible light of the soul. You will erase the false boundaries between what the eyes perceive and what the heart alone can understand."

Krishna was still lost in wonder. Resting his head on Radha's lap, he gently cupped her face in his tiny hands and looked deep into her eyes.

"Radha... tell me," he asked with childlike curiosity, "why are milk and honey both so sweet, yet their colours are different?"

Radha laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with affection.

"My dear Krishna, are your rosy lips and your lotus-like cheeks the same colour? Yet together they make your smile complete."

Krishna gazed at her, delight dancing in his eyes.

After a thoughtful silence, he asked again,

"Then tell me, Radha... which is more beautiful....the endless sky above us, or the love shining in your eyes?"

She gently stroked his curls.

"Neither can surpass your smile, Krishna. It is the dawn that awakens every sleeping heart."

The breeze carried the fragrance of blooming jasmine through the courtyard. Krishna watched the drifting clouds with innocent fascination.

"Then why do I become confused, Radha? At times I feel it is day, and the next moment it seems like night."

Radha smiled, recognizing the hidden playfulness behind his question.

"First tell me, are you the Sun or the Moon?"

Krishna blinked innocently.

"You possess the brilliance of both," she continued. "When your eyes are open, the world awakens into daylight. When you close them, night descends upon our hearts. And in the brief moments between your blinks, we dream—and mistake those dreams for reality."

Krishna burst into laughter.

A cool breeze lifted the curls that fell across his forehead.

"Radha," he asked, brushing them aside, "why do the clouds come so close to my face? And what is that flashing light in the sky?"

Radha tucked a stray curl behind his ear.

"Those are not clouds, those are your own dark curls dancing in the wind, eager to kiss your forehead. And that is no lightning. It is Nature herself rejoicing at your presence."

Krishna looked upward as though trying to understand the language of the heavens.

After a moment he turned back to her with another innocent wish.

"Radha, I want to gather the stars and weave them into your hair like flowers."

She smiled with quiet contentment.

"I need no stars, Krishna. Your love is the most precious ornament I could ever wear. See how the bees circle around me, imagining that I am adorned with countless blossoms."

Krishna looked at her in amazement. There was a radiance in her eyes unlike anything he had ever seen. It seemed to flow silently into his own heart.

He placed his tiny hand upon his chest.

"What is this feeling within me, Radha?" he whispered. "Is it cool like snow, or does it pour like rain?"

"It is neither," Radha replied gently. "It is the soothing grace of your own love flowing through the universe. Wherever your glance falls, hearts bloom with peace."

Krishna's face lit up with a mischievous smile.

"I feel like embracing the whole universe!"

"I know your little trick," Radha laughed. "You wish to embrace me, for within a woman's heart you will discover the entire universe wrapped in love."

The two laughed together, their joy echoing through the quiet woods.

A gentle gust of wind swept through the flowering trees. Countless petals broke free from their blossoms and floated gracefully through the air, swirling around them like fragrant snow.

Krishna watched them with wide-eyed wonder.

"Radha, why have the flowers abandoned their branches? Why are they dancing upon the breeze?"

She stretched out her hand and caught a single petal before it drifted away.

"They have not fallen, Krishna," she said softly. "They have fulfilled their purpose. In the fullness of love, they have forgotten themselves. Leaving behind their separate existence, they now journey through the wind, longing to merge with the One from whom all beauty is born."

Krishna silently watched the petals disappear into the distance. A serene smile blossomed upon his lips, as though he understood that every soul, like every flower, was destined to return to its eternal Beloved.

To be continued ...

Viswasruti2020-10-01 13:15:32