Radha Krishna: The Reunion

BY ‘KETAKI’

RADHA: Last night my Lord came to me in my dream. It was again the beloved trysting place on the banks of the Yamuna. As of yore, I was in the jasmine bower. His flute made melodious music, and he walked up to me with his witching smile. After so many years, why should he have come to me yesterday? What does it mean? For years I have been looking for him: for a look from his dear eyes: for a honeyed word from his lips. Now, now he comes to haunt by dream. And that dream! When I was held in his arms, when his lips murmured the oft-remembered words of love, the dream came to an end. It was too sudden, and I am so afraid. I know not what it means. My heart is full of strange misgivings. Is it an evil omen?

KRISHNA: Radhika! My heart’s dearest!

R: That was my love’s voice! Yes! It was! And yet! It cannot be! He cannot come here now. He is too busy in Dwaraka. His days are spent with Partha, and his nights are spent in the arms of Bhama. How, then, could he think of me even in his dreams? And now, his voice. Like a whiff of perfume from some buried past, it comes to me bringing fragrant thoughts with it.

K: Radha, Radhika, can you not hear me? It is I, your Krishna!

R: (Goes up a few steps and sees Krishna) My Lord! My Beloved! You have come. Is it true? Or is it again a silver dream to shiver into a million flinders, like a picture traced on water? Tell me, my Lord, am I dreaming yesterday night’s dream to a finish?

K: No, my dear. I have come, at last: to rest in your dear arms. To look into your eyes: to touch your gentle hands: to hear the caress in your sweet voice.

R: My Shyam, you look pale. Are you hurt, my love?

K: Yes. I am hurt. Radha, I am dying, Radha. I want to die in your arms. So I have come.

R: (With tears in her eyes) So Rukmini cannot soothe your hot temples. Bhama cannot kiss away the weariness from your limbs. To me, to me, the Radha of your younger days, to me, you bring your pain. Master mine, to what do I owe this great honour?

K: Do you not know that you and I are one? One? Bhama and Rukmini are but moments in my mighty life. But you are different. In the beginning, I was yours and you were mine. Now the end is come. I have come home to you. Know you not how, when you ride in a chariot, a million trees and a million rivers meet you and pass you, they going one way and you the other? But have you looked at the stars? the moon? the glorious heavens? They are always with you. Even so, my love, the things of the world touched me, tried to hinder me. But I have passed them by. Like the heavens, you and thoughts of you have ever been with me, making my life one of joy, and hopefulness. In the horizon which retreats faster, the faster you travel, heaven and earth meet. Death is the end of my Quest. I am nearing the horizon and I knew you would be waiting for me there–at the Journey’s End, to fill my cup of happiness to the brim. In a world of inconstant things you are constant, and my heart aches for you. Take me, I am tired.

R: My lord, how came you to he thus? wounded? hurt? dying?

K: Radha, my task in this world of men is over. The purpose has been fulfilled. It is time to lay down the oars and say: It is all over. I am tired, Radha. I am hurt. I have become disillusioned. But it’s no matter. Let us go back to the days of our love. Do you remember them? Do you remember our first walk on the banks of the Yamuna?

R: Indeed, I do. Mother Yasoda thought you would be afraid to go alone in the dark, and asked me to go with you. I remember the look you gave me. It was half teasing and half tender. You made me blush red like the mantle I Wore. We went together. The moon had come up. The river, dark in the daytime looked golden now, and your hand touched mine. I spoke not a word, and you did not. But your touch woke up the strings of my heart, and the music of love flooded my being. You took me to the jasmine bower and spoke of your love. I could scarcely talk. I was so full of happiness. My whole frame thrilled with ecstasy at the thought that you should love me. How could I bear so much of happiness? ‘Krishna, my Krishn? I am yours. I am all Yours.’ I murmured the words and you took me in your arms.

K: Yes, my love. I was happy then. It was the thought of that night, and other such night that has kept me up through the dark days of the Kurukshetra battle. Now it is all over. I am free to come to you and your loving arms.

R: My heart’s dearest, how came you to be wounded?

K: A Nishada aimed an arrow at me and hit me.

R: Hit you, my lord? I do not understand! No, no. Madhusudana, you have destroyed the entire world! and you are hurt by a mere arrow! What Leela is this, my lord?

K: It does make me smile. But it is true. I was in the forest. A languor came on my limbs, and I lay me down under a tree and went to sleep. I was dreaming of you. Then, something stung my foot. I woke up and found an arrow embedded in my foot. I looked round and saw a Nishada walking towards me. He was as nonplussed as I was. Lo! on a sudden, the truth dawned on me. Do you not know that my foot bears, as a birthmark, a beautiful bird?

R: Indeed, I do. Do you remember my saying that it is the one bird which cannot fly but walks the earth? Do you not remember how jealous I was because it could always, always touch you, while I could not?

K: This Nishada saw only that strange bird from a distance, but saw me not. He aimed at it and hit it, and me too, unwittingly. By God, it hurts. But your gentle hands are drawing out all the pain. This is the end that I was waiting for. To die, to die in your arms, with your tender hands caressing my hot temples, your sweet form cooling my fevered limbs. Radha, let us forget an this and think of Brindavan.

R: My lord, do you remember that moonlit evening on the river bank when you danced the Rasa with the Gopis?

K: Yes, I do. I was dancing, and, all on a sudden, I remembered that you would be waiting for me. I left the dance and ran to the banks of Kalindi to meet you. You were there, but angry with me.

R: Yes. Kumudini came and told me how, decked in sandalwood and flower garlands, with your saffron silk flying in the breeze, you were dancing with the Gopikas. My lord, I was hurt. I was waiting for you. You remembered me not. My mantle was the colour of the peacock’s throat. My hair was loose and perfumed, as you liked it to be. My form was bathed in the perfume of Ketaki and I was like a Kumuda waiting for the kiss of the moonbeam. But then, you heeded me not.

K: I was sorry. I came to you and you were there. Hurt, angry tears glistened in your eyes. I tried to take your hand, but you drew it away. I tried to touch your feet, but you fled. I followed you, but you heeded me not. You walked along the winding paths, like a streak of lightning walking the earth.

R: And you, my lord, followed in my wake, like a thundercloud. You called my name. It was like the voice of the swan. It thrilled me through. I wanted to rush into your arms. But my pride held me.

K: Oh, really love! Do you know how I longed for you then? Your mantle, a gleam of colour in that dark glade: the river snaking her way in a silver flood: the perfume of the night flowers: and the sweet fragrance of your streaming hair wafted to me by the cool night breeze: all these fanned my desire for you. You walked and I kissed the spots which your feet had touched, and placed my feet on the same spots. A thrill ran through me and I was almost faint. Suddenly you relented. Why?

R: Why? Oh, my love, I saw you kissing my footsteps. How could I hold back? I loved you, my lord. Again, do you remember, beloved, that day when Kalinga was vanquished?

K: Yes. We were in the jasmine bower. Suddenly Balabhadra’s voice called my name. My hair was all awry, and my golden mantle and your crimson silk were lying entangled on the marble seat. I can still see your terrified look when I tried in vain to clothe myself properly. You helped me with trembling fingers. Then we searched together for my flute and my peacock’s plume. Can we get back those beautiful days?

R: They are gone, indeed. My lord, when Akrura, the cruellest of men, took you away from us, Brindavan was bathed in tears. No one took heed of poor Radha sobbing unrestrained in the jasmine bower. No one except…

K: Yes, except me; I stopped my chariot on the way and came to you. I knew you would be there. Do you not remember? I took you in my arms and kissed away your hot salt tears and promised that some day I would come to you.

R: It is that promise that has kept me alive through these years of pain. From then on, all my moments coursed ceaselessly to and fro in an hour-glass that was your heart and mine: sealed up therein as sand within the chamber turned hour by hour to run and heap again from yours to mine: from mine to yours. But tell me, my lord, what strange love this is. Last night I dreamed of you. It was an omen. I knew that something had happened. How could I know? How is it that I knew? Others have loved, but not like this. When you lay down to dream of me, you melted into my dream. And when the arrow hurt you, my dream was hurt too.

K: My heart’s dearest, you and I are two hearts beating as one. You are the soul wandering in quest of God, and I am God. The time has come for the end of the Quest. I have found you.

R: My beloved, I do not understand. I am wandering to find fulfillment in you. Why then, should You come to Me? Is it not the other way?

K: So the world of men thinks. But it is not so. When a child, longing for the mother’s arms, cries aloud in the darkness, it is the mother, in her infinite compassion and love, goes in search of her child, and gathers it in her arms. When a Bhakta cries out to his Lord, it is the Lord Himself who takes up the pursuit and finds the Bhakta and gathers him into Himself. You want me and yearn for me. But my yearning for you is even more painful and intense. My love needs to be fulfilled in yours. I can be happy only when I find you. I have reached the end. I have found you. Radha, will you not come with me?

R: Indeed, my lord, my long lost dream is about to be realised. To be with you forever! Ever! Tell me what I should do.

K: Look there! the wood-cutters have felled those sandalwood trees. Make me a pyre. Then lift me on to it. Then–

R: Then, my lord! Into your arms! There everlasting peace will be found! Never to leave you! Never more to look for you! Your love overwhelms me (falls at his feet).

K: (Gathering her up) At last! At long last! I have found you. Come, let us ascend to the heavens on the wings of pure fire. Come, my dearest, my beloved, come.

R: I come, my love, my lord. I place my hands in yours. Take me where you will. I am yours. Do not leave me.

K. Leave you, Beloved? No, no, nevermore. We can nevermore be torn asunder. In the wilderness called love, we lost our ways. We searched for each other for an infinite number of years. But now the years of searching are ended. We have found each other. Hand in hand we will walk together into this wilderness again. But not to be parted. Come, my heart, let us, you and me, start anew our journey into the Realms of Love.

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