A Golden Bridge

Yashoda was packing a small suitcase when a bright-eyed woman appeared in the doorway. 

"Maiya!" The woman called. Her beautiful face burned like fire as the last rays of the setting sun bathed her. Her dress was dishevelled, its now-faded colour reminiscent of the night sky.

"Radha!" Yashoda exclaimed with joy, as she pulled the woman into a warm embrace. "It's been so long! Do you not miss us?" Yashoda complained. Radha shook her head absentmindedly as she stood playing with her long, unruly curls. Yashoda continued packing, knowing it took the woman a long time to open up about anything. In all these years, if anything, Yashoda had learnt to give her time.

After a long pause, Radha whispered, "I heard from the gopis that you were going to visit him. Dwarika is a long way from here. I thought I'd come and see you before you left." She leaned on the bedpost, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rich carvings on the wood, as her eyes glazed over the things scattered over the bed.

Yashoda smiled kindly, "Yes! That pesky Subhadra finally talked me into going. Krishna is performing a yajna. She invited on the occasion!" Yashoda's face fell, "I'm so sorry, my dear. I should've invited you sooner. I just didn't know how to ask you, when it was my child that left you behind!"

"Yajna, eh?" She laughed fondly, "I did not come here to ask you to take me with you, Maiya. I just came to say goodbye!" Radha said softly.

Yashoda clucked in disapproval, "Why not, Radha? Come as my companion, I am sure your family won't object to that!"

Radha hesitated for a moment, but continued, "My family is not the problem. I just don't want to go." Yashoda shook her head, a little annoyed. Radha was as impossible to read as Krishna at times. Why had she come running if she didn't want to go?!

Yashoda sighed nevertheless, "I know! You must be very upset with him! I understand. You must be thinking that he got married to other women and forgot all about you!"

Radha chuckled, "Radha is not someone you just forget Maiya. Even now, after so many years, with just one word from me," she snapped her fingers, "He will come running from his Dwarika and fall at my feet! Still, I trust my Krishna. If he chose to get married, his queens must be remarkable women. It's not so easy to move on after you've known me!" 

She smiled, "Whatever it may look like, I am happy for him. Believe me when I say that I pray every day. I practically beg the Gods that he may forget me. How will he be happy unless he does? You might ask me Maiya, do I not love him anymore? Tell me this, who in this entire world has ever gotten over your son?" 

Radha smiled sadly, "If you must know, we did not part willingly. We only gave each other up in the face of his destiny. Let us not fool ourselves into thinking that the society that tore us apart all those years ago will let us live in peace now. Like it or not, he and I are done! I refuse to reopen this old wound just for a moment's delight." 

Radha forcefully wiped a lone tear from her cheek, "Think of him also, Maiya! He will be torn apart if we come face to face again. I cannot in good conscience put him through that!"

Radha started laughing suddenly. Yashoda looked at her, puzzled. Radha said, "I am just so happy for you Maiya! You will get to see him, touch him and listen to him! Oh, what wouldn't I give to have just a glimpse of him, but alas, that is not to be! You know, the greater good and all that nonsense?" Radha gripped Yashoda's palms, "Promise me, you'll bring something of his? Even if it is a scrap of cloth he touched or something he threw away! Don't tell him it's for me, just get me something?"

Yashoda felt her eyes well up as she pulled the now sobbing Radha close to her chest, running her fingers through her distraught hair.

 ---

Yashoda leaned back against the cushion on the chariot seat. The journey from Vrindavan to Dwarika had been a long and tiring one. It did not help that their escort to the city, one of the Yadava cousins, could hardly stop talking. As though, he had resolved to pour out the entirety of his knowledge of the lands they crossed before they reached their destination. Only now had he retreated to his own chariot for a bit, instead of jumping back and forth between Nanda and Yashoda's steeds. Yashoda let her mind wander back to Vrindavan for a bit. 

The villagers had packed so much food into the chariots to take to the boys, that Yashoda hardly had any place to sit on it. They had all insisted their names be written on their gifts, with instructions to Yashoda to bring back a list of all those Krishna remembered. Yashoda had laughed and cried as they had bid goodbye.

Radha had come to see them off as well. She had walked alongside the chariot up to the edge of the village, beaming the entire way. However, Yashoda had noticed her puffy, red eyes. She had kept turning away to hide her face, trying not to upset them on their way. 

Ever since Krishna had left, the poor girl had been left completely exhausted. Yashoda had also heard from people about how Radha had left her family and lived in a makeshift shelter near the river bank. People had also found her talking to birds and trees as she wandered through the forests of Vrindavan. Whenever Yashoda thought of Radha, she felt a painful twinge in her heart. She felt as though she had somehow let down the poor child. Even though people in the village gossiped about her apparent insanity, Yashoda had seen a rare resolve in Radha. This was a person who lost the one thing in her life that she actually cared about and still refused to give in. Only if life had been a little kinder to her!

Once the chariot had left the bounds of the city, Yashoda had leaned back into the cushioned seats. Balarama and Subhadra had returned by faster transport and left their cousin to guide the older couple. This was the first time Yashoda had travelled so far from home. As the vehicles made their way through quaint villages, vicious forests, and bristling cities, Yashoda couldn't help but be excited for each new adventure on the way. Every new day brought along new people staring at their entourage, soon to be won over by Yashoda's sweet conversations. Out of the corner of her eyes, she would find Nanda staring at her. Sometimes she glared at him, especially if they were in a city or town, but mostly ignored. Truth be told, his admiring looks didn't enrage her like before. She still made it a point to avoid him in private, hardly speaking a word in his presence.

Soon the quaint roads of Gokula seemed distant, as her chariot took Yashoda further and further. With the horses' gallant pace kicking off a trail of dust in their wake, Yashoda allowed herself to imagine her little boy as the leader of this new kingdom at the edge of the earth. Dwarikadheesh, the bards sang. Not the king, but the founder. While she had always known that her son was meant for bigger things, she had, never even in her wildest dreams, imagined that he would end up here. He was clearly powerful, with a happy family, and yet from Subhadra's words, Yashoda had sensed a crevice. Amidst all the glitter and glamour a facade had cracked open wide enough for one cry for help to cross three rivers and a desert.

---

"Auntie!" Yashoda was shaken from her thoughts by the cheerful voice of Satyaki, their escort. They had reached the gates of Dwarika. "Auntie, the chariot only comes this far. Do you see that stone bridge over the ocean? That will lead us right into the city. Shall I order a palanquin to be brought over?" 

Yashoda declined with a smile. She'd had enough of Satyaki's overenthusiasm over the past month they had spent on the road. She didn't like being fussed over anyway. Instead, she walked up to the beach, feeling the uneven rocks under her feet.

Nanda had already started walking, clearly impressed with the grandeur that lay ahead. Every shikhara of the city, built on an imposing island off the coast, was wrapped in gold. The buildings were painted in varied, attractive colours. The moon-marked flag of the Yadavas flapped proudly over the tallest spires.

"Is that real gold on the pavement I see?" Nanda exclaimed as he bent to take a closer look. Satyaki nodded, laughing, "Well, we had some excess and couldn't figure out where else to put it!" He explained. Nanda nodded in approval, "And this bridge? We heard of the Rama-setu, and now you guys seem to have figured that out as well! How did you pull this off?"

"Oh, Krishna hired some fancy architect, he took care of the science for us. We don't usually get involved in cosmetic matters!" Satyaki beamed as Nanda raised a brow.

Yashoda let the men walk on ahead, engrossed in their discussion.

The ocean splashing up against her feet made her feel strangely giddy. She had always wanted to see the ocean ever since she was a little girl. She turned away from the dazzling city and took a deep breath. The salty air seemed to alleviate all the stress from the arduous journey. The ever-stretching skyline of emptiness seemed to fascinate her. Was she standing on the edge of the world itself, she seemed to wonder. Why had Krishna chosen this place to be their haven?

The last few decades had been tough on the whole family. First Kamsa, then Jarasandha! Yashoda wondered if choosing this island, in the middle of nowhere, was Krishna's tiredness finally seeping through the cracks.

A long time ago, Yashoda had asked Rishi Garga when he had come over to perform Krishna's namakarana, back when she had still known him to be her own flesh and blood, "Swami, how much happiness will my lalla get in his life?" She had asked the clairvoyant sage.

"He will bring endless joy to anyone who sets their eyes on him," the Rishi had replied. No matter in how many ways Yashoda had framed her question, the Rishi had stood firm in his answer.

Yashoda sighed as she now wondered if Krishna was happy at all.

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