Chapter 7: A Quest & A Conquest!

A Quest and a Conquest

For two days, Nandgaon drifted through a sea of anxious expectation. Every heart longed for a messenger from Mathura carrying tidings of Krishna. The village that had once echoed with his laughter had fallen into an unusual silence.

No one suffered that silence more deeply than Radha.

She could not emerge from the stupor of separation. Since Krishna's departure, she scarcely stepped outside her house. She lay upon her bed like a garland torn from its thread, gazing into emptiness, speaking only to herself. The very embodiment of universal love had become indifferent to life itself.

On the evening of the third day, Radha wandered along the banks of the Yamuna like one who had lost her way in the world. She searched for Krishna behind flowering shrubs, beneath every creeper, and along every familiar path where they had once walked together.

Again and again, her eyes turned towards the distant road.

Surely, she thought, today he would return after conquering Kansa.

But no royal chariot appeared.

Only the cowherd boys returned from the distant meadows, driving the cows home as the golden sun sank behind Vrindavan's groves.

An indescribable pain settled upon her heart.

She sat beneath the ancient peepal tree, closed her eyes, and slipped into the sanctuary of memory.

*************

One morning, while she had been braiding her hair, Krishna had quietly appeared behind her.

Without a word, he gently gathered her long tresses, plaited them with patient care, and wound them into a graceful knot. His fingers lingered upon the loose strands that framed her face before he adorned her hair with blossoms gathered from the nearby bushes.

Smiling shyly, Radha looked into the mirror.

She gasped.

Instead of her own reflection, she saw Krishna's face smiling back at her.

Delighted by the miracle, she burst into laughter.

"See, Krishna," she whispered, "you have not only occupied your Radha's heart...you have hidden even her face behind your loving glances. Look into this mirror and understand your Radha's dilemma."

Krishna only smiled.

He placed a few more flowers around her face and asked her to look again.

This time the blossoms appeared to be woven into a garland resting around his own neck, while Radha's face seemed nestled between his shoulder and chin, her eyes closed in perfect surrender.

She laughed again at this playful illusion.

It was his silent way of reminding her that their souls were never separate.

Their eyes met.

No words were spoken.

Their hearts conversed in colours beyond speech.

**************

A sudden commotion shattered the vision.

"Radha! Radha!"

Her companions came running towards her.

"Do you know? Krishna and Balarama have slain the cruel King Kansa and all his mighty wrestlers!"

Radha slowly returned from memory to the present.

A radiant smile blossomed upon her lips.

"My Krishna was born to restore peace, for that very purpose," she said serenely. "He can never tolerate tyranny or injustice. He descends to destroy evil."

Her friends eagerly surrounded her.

"Radha," exclaimed Madhavi, "he has freed his parents and grandparents from prison. He restored Maharaja Ugrasena to the throne of Mathura. The whole kingdom hails Krishna as its saviour. Thousands gather every day merely to behold him."

"I know," Radha replied with quiet pride. "Though he is the Supreme Sovereign himself, he always establishes righteousness by placing the worthy upon the throne."

Another friend, Vasanthika, arrived breathless with fresh news.

"Listen, Radha! During his first walk through Mathura, Krishna met Trivakra...Kubja—the hunchbacked maidservant of Kansa. She had long adored him through the tales carried by travellers. Krishna asked her to anoint him with fragrant sandalwood paste. Then, with a compassionate embrace, he straightened her bent body and transformed her into a woman of extraordinary beauty. Everyone stood speechless. Overwhelmed with devotion, she invited him to her home, and Krishna promised to visit her after completing his mission."

Radha closed her eyes.

"My Krishna never overlooks the tender feelings of any soul," she whispered. "His touch does not merely beautify the body....it awakens the hidden beauty within the heart. Whoever receives his love shines with a radiance no earthly ornament can bestow."

Another cowherd woman spoke joyfully.

"The people of Mathura cannot take their eyes off him. Young and old alike follow him through the streets, enchanted by his beauty, his grace, and his divine charm. Mother Devaki, after embracing him for the first time, could scarcely release him. She fears someone may snatch him away once again."

Radha smiled through tears.

"A mother's love is like the boundless ocean," she said softly. "It longs to surround her child from every shore, shielding him from every sorrow. Krishna is forever the tiny child in his mothers' hearts, even though he carries the entire universe within himself. He who contains creation once dwelt as a tiny life within a mother's womb."

Her laughter rang like music through her tears.

One of the cowherd boys added excitedly,

"Our Krishna now wears silken garments and royal ornaments. He rides in princely chariots. Yet he still adorns his crown with a peacock feather and never parts with his flute."

Radha's face glowed.

"The rainbow itself weaves his silken robes each morning," she said dreamily. "The wandering breeze perfumes him with the fragrance of spring. His heart is vast enough to embrace the entire universe...how then could he ever forget the little mementoes of Vrindavan... or his Radha?"

She paused before adding,

"He is the protector of all beings, yet he moves among men as though he were one of them. Such is the sweetness of the Divine."

Her companions watched her in wonder.

When Krishna's victories were recounted, they saw the pride of a mother on her face.

When his heroic deeds were narrated, they saw the delight of a beloved.

When Kubja's story was told, they saw neither jealousy nor possessiveness, but only admiration for another devotee blessed by Krishna's compassion.

Such was the vastness of Radha's love!!

********

Yet longing soon returned.

Each passing day stretched into an eternity.

She lost all interest in worldly duties. Often she sat motionless for hours, absorbed in silent contemplation.

Her family grew anxious.

Even her mother-in-law began singing songs in praise of Krishna, hoping that his name alone might gently draw Radha back into ordinary life.

Sometimes Radha wandered to Nanda's house.

There she and Mother Yashoda embraced one another, weeping without restraint.

For hours they spoke only of Krishna...his childhood pranks, his playful teasing of the Gopis, his fearless exploits, and the laughter that once filled every corner of Vrindavan.

Memories became Radha's constant companions.

Sometimes she smiled at an unseen vision.

Sometimes she spoke aloud to herself.

"Why were you born, Radha? If your Krishna is not beside you, why do you still breathe? Go to him...he alone is yours.

"No..."

She answered herself.

"He belongs to the whole world now. He is a prince. By the merit of countless previous births, you were blessed to walk beside him for a little while.

"Now live upon the treasure he has left within your heart."

One day a traveller arrived with fresh news.

"Prince Krishna is leaving for the Gurukul of Sage Sandipani to receive his education."

Radha's face blossomed with delight.

She laughed like flowers showering from heaven.

"How blessed is knowledge itself," she murmured, "that it may be received, possessed, and finally bestowed by the Almighty. Even wisdom becomes more radiant when it adorns Him."

To be continued ---

Viswasruti2020-10-31 13:23:27