Chapter 6: Her Master's Choice, A Maiden's Approval

The Farewell

Her Master's Choice, A Maiden's Approval

Silence lay upon Vrindavan like a sacred hymn, filling every grove and meadow with profound serenity.

Radha was as free as the wind that wandered through the forests. She knew nothing of boundaries or worldly customs, nothing of fear or restraint. Time held no dominion over her. Her life flowed like a crystal stream, fragrant with love and devotion.

A prayer slowly transformed into a song of longing.

"Must you still evade me, my beloved?" Radha whispered to the Krishna who dwelt within her heart. "Must you?

"You are beyond the grasp of the universe. The radiant sun and the cool, nectar-like moon are but your two eyes. You are everything, and everything exists within you. I searched for you everywhere, only to find you at last within my own heart. You have filled every thought of mine. I have abandoned everything for you. Come, Krishna... rescue me from this loneliness. Must you still evade me, my beloved?"

Seated in her favourite nook beside the Yamuna, she smiled like the queen of an unseen kingdom, conversing joyfully with her invisible Krishna.

Holding a handful of fresh blossoms, she silently offered them as her wedding garland. Without uttering a single word, she circled the sacred fire of her awakened love seven times with her beloved in her heart, exchanging eternal vows. Her soul rejoiced, believing Krishna had accepted her offering.

In her inner world, the sweet strains of Yaman Kalyan flowed from his bansuri, filling every corner of her being.

Around her stood many village maidens, watching in silence as Radha remained lost in divine ecstasy, her eyes gently closed.

"Vishnu Vandana... wake her. Tell her the truth," Vakula pleaded, her voice trembling.

"I cannot," Vishnu Vandana replied softly. "Radha cannot live without Krishna. I do not know how she will bear this terrible news."

Madhavi gently placed her hand upon Radha's shoulder.

Slowly opening her eyes, Radha looked around in confusion.

"Where is my Krishna?"

Madhavi's voice quivered.

"Radha... listen carefully. Akrura has arrived from Mathura. King Kamsa has invited Krishna and Balarama to participate in a wrestling match. But he also revealed truths we had never known."

"Our Krishna is no ordinary cowherd. He is the son of Devaki and Vasudeva, born to destroy Kamsa. Nanda Baba and Mother Yashoda are not his birth parents."

"When Akrura revealed everything, Nanda and Yashoda were devastated. They wondered how their innocent child could face a ruthless tyrant like Kamsa."

She paused, struggling to hold back her tears.

"But Krishna has decided to go. He and Balarama are leaving for Mathura this very moment. The entire village is weeping. Everyone is pleading with him to stay. Mother Yashoda has sent us to bring you. She believes only you can persuade Krishna not to leave Vrindavan."

"The chariot is about to depart. Hurry, Radha... please stop him before he leaves us forever."

For a single moment, Radha stood still.

Then the world beneath her feet vanished.

Like a tender creeper severed from its supporting tree, she collapsed on the earth. Tears streamed from her lotus-like eyes until she became a pool of silent sorrow.

Just then, a young cowherd came running.

"The chariot is about to leave!"

Without another word, everyone rushed towards Nanda's house.

As Krishna prepared to depart for Mathura, an indescribable grief enveloped Vrindavan. The gopis stood helpless, their hearts shattered, clinging only to memories of his laughter, his smile, and the enchanting melody of his flute.

When the chariot reached the banks of the Yamuna, Krishna gently asked Akrura to halt.

Stepping down, he walked quietly towards Radha, who sat beside the river, immersed in silent penance.

"Radha, listen" he said softly, "the purpose of my incarnation now calls me. I must fulfil my dharma. Bless me, and send me forth with a smile, so that I may accomplish my mission."

"How can a heart buried beneath mountains of sorrow bless you, Krishna?" she replied, her voice breaking.

"I seek strength from the mountain of your faith, Radha."

"I am surrounded only by the fear of losing you," she whispered. "How can your Radha survive this loneliness?"

Krishna smiled gently.

"You are not apart from me. You are the very soul of your Krishna...the life-breath that gives music to my bansuri."

She lowered her eyes.

"How can one who has become lifeless show the path to her beloved?"

"From this day onward," Krishna answered, "love itself shall become our path. Through your love, you will guide me as I carry the message of divine love throughout the world. Bless your Krishna, that he may become its humble messenger."

Radha folded her hands.

"How can I bless my Lord? I am only your devotee."

Krishna looked deeply into her eyes.

"That is what the world believes. But in truth...When I was a child, you were my mother. When I sought peace, you became nature itself. When I desired love, you became the very heartbeat of creation. When I searched for wisdom, you became my teacher. When I longed for divine grace, you became my deity. Every blessing I have received has come through you. You are my refuge, my peace, my eternal Radha. Today, as I step into a world filled with conflict and duty, will my teacher not offer a few words to her disciple?"

For a long moment she simply gazed at him.

Then, gathering the fragments of her breaking heart, Radha spoke.

"My Krishna... Every joyful union carries within it the seed of an inevitable separation. Perhaps that is the eternal law of creation. The highest form of devotion is not found in meeting one's beloved, but in continuing to love after the separation...in the pain, in the longing, in the endless remembrance. For every union gives birth to the fear of another parting. Yet if love survives even separation... Then it has become eternal."

Akrura was sitting in the chariot and was staring at Krishna with amazement! Krishna was walking towards a woman who was sitting on the riverbank like a torn garland. He was in disbelief as he watched Krishna sitting near her feet and putting his head over her lap and hands around her, and looking deep into her eyes with unspoken pain.

Akrura looked at Balaram and questioned with astonishment, "Who is that blessed maiden whom Krishna is respecting so much? Why is our God sitting at the feet of his devotee?"

' She is Radha, Krishna's Sakhi as well as his preacher! Since childhood, Krishna was attached to her like his own self .' -- Balaram asked Akrura to take a dip in the Yamuna river before leaving this Dev Bhoomi which bears the footprints of Krishna!

Just like a rainbow makes the sky shine after the rain, she wore her hopes for him as a crown and started talking as an outspoken soliloquy, pouring out her dreams softly, while her soul was trying to hide her pain --

"Krishna! Living without you is certain death for your Radha. My fate will be that of a plucked flower, lifeless upon the water, drifting wherever the current carries it, with no shore and no destination. You are taking my very life with you. Yet that life shall remain your unseen shield. Whenever danger surrounds you, it will protect you; whenever disappointment clouds your heart, my love will restore your courage. My love will guide you always, Krishna.

You asked me to accompany you to Mathura. But how can a simple village girl live beside a prince in his royal palace? I know nothing of courtly customs or the etiquette of kings. I know only love, and how to express it without fear or restraint. If someone were to ask you, 'Who is this woman?' what answer could you give? The rules of a palace are different from the freedom of Vrindavan. Soon you will leave even the palace to pursue your education in an ashram, preparing yourself for the great destiny that awaits you. By what right, then, can I remain beside you?

No, Krishna. Let me offer you to your kingdom, so that you may fulfil the purpose for which you have descended upon this earth. I shall live with the memories you leave behind. I know that the burdens of your future may not even allow you the leisure to think of your Radha. Yet remember one thing—I shall wait for you for as long as I breathe, with the hope that one day my Krishna will return and embrace his longing Radha before death claims her. Go, Krishna. Fulfil your duty. Today, your Radha offers her beloved Krishna to the whole world."

Tears streamed from her eyes, scattering upon the earth like pearls slipping from a broken garland. Slowly, Radha closed her eyes, preserving within them the image of Krishna, forever etched upon her soul.

Krishna looked at her with eyes filled with immeasurable tenderness.

"Radha, it is a man bound by duty who now walks towards Mathura, leaving behind the lover who belongs only to you. As an eternal symbol of our love, I shall always wear the peacock feather upon my crown. To remind me of your sweet voice, our moonlit wanderings, and the serenity your love bestowed upon my heart, I shall forever carry the Bansuri in my hands. These shall remain the sacred emblems of our eternal bond until my last breath.

And you, Radha... cherish that innocent lover within your heart. One day, when destiny has completed its work, I shall return—not as a king, nor as a warrior, but in search of the part of myself I left behind in you... only to lose myself once again in your enchanting embrace."

Krishna turned and walked towards the waiting chariot.

Unable to bear the sight of his departing form, Radha gently closed her eyes.

He knew she had once again entered into her silent penance, a lifelong meditation upon the Krishna who would forever belong to her heart.

The sky and the earth stood witness to their sacred parting. The breeze fell still, and even the trees seemed uncertain, whispering among themselves, wondering who had suffered the greater loss...Radha or Krishna.

Only the ever-flowing Yamuna smiled through her tears.

She whispered to the reflections of the heavens upon her waters, "Neither is the loser. Both have become infinitely richer by receiving the purest love the universe can bestow. Yet, in this fleeting moment, both are equally bereft, for the longing they once conquered has begun anew."

No one knew how many seasons would pass before destiny reunited them in this transient world. But love such as theirs belonged not to time. It flowed endlessly, like the Yamuna herself, beyond separation, beyond reunion, beyond life itself.