Kanha,
That day, when for the first time I saw you, I knew that there was something unique about you. You were different from others. My heart cried to me, “This is Him, Radha. He is the one - your eternal love.” Yes, you are my eternal love. My love was not a suckling infant, it had seen ages; its seeds lie in the womb of time – it was the fruition of the love between the Brahman & the Atman. Who are you? What are you? It doesn’t matters to me. For someone you’re the Godhead, for others Maya incarnate. Somebody calls you son, for others you are a brother. But for me you are Kanha, only Kanha. My Kanha…
What is love? An emotion or a disfigured name of lust? I was unaware of the depth of this single word, until I met you. And when I realized the meaning of love, with it I procured torment of jealousy & throes of parting. Why do we love & acquire in its return pain & mourning – Why?
I still remember the day when in the gusty rains in the stunning wilderness of Vrindavan your hands had touched me for the first time; when your sturdy arms had clasped me close to your heart; when your lips had alleviated the thirst of my quivering lips with a kiss. When your person, dark like the clouds of monsoon & steeped in the petite droplets of the downpour, had swathed my distinct body, fair like the first snow of the Himalayas ; it seemed as if the clouds had enveloped the lustrous moon. That day, every mite of your essence was imbibed by my body. I was imperfect till then. That day I felt that I have become absolute. You culminated the modus of my completion. You had touched me; no other yearning lingered in my heart.
You were Shiva, I craved to be your Shivani; you were Indra, I coveted to be your Indrani; you were Agni, I pined to be your Svaha – to sum it up, I chose to be your consort.
But, perhaps, the fates were against us. Soon I was married off to Ayyan. But even the holy knots of nuptial were unable to efface your name from my heart. Love only happens once in your life; and I’d loved you, Kanha. I carried out not a single duty that is expected of a wife. How could I? I was married to Ayyan, but you were my soulmate.
I was already your spouse when I married Ayyan. Your contingence was the vermillion of my head & your embrace my bridal wreath. Your body that enfolded my person was the bridal raiment while the dazzling lightning in the wet firmament was the fire of the altar. Walking with you hand in hand, I don’t know how many times I impersonated the holy rites of the Seven Steps. Even after this if I was deemed to be a virgin worthy of marriage, then what could I say?
It is not easy for a man to persevere the indignity of his consort adoring some other man. Ayyan restrained himself for many days; but for how long? When the floodgates of his forbearance collapsed, it overwhelmed everything. When the conflagration of his passion allayed, he looked at me. I lay there – like a cadaver - lifeless. But was there any life in me before that? My life - I had gifted it upon your feet.
But perhaps, it was a burly blow to Ayyan. Who could have loved a carcass? In that dark night, I saw fear in his eyes. A fear of the unknown. He straightened himself & went out of the room trembling in grief & fury. He did not return. Later, I heard that he became the Commander-in-Chief of the army of Kamsa. Kanha, can you see now what your love has done to me? I am neither alive nor dead.
I couldn’t even bid you farewell the day you were leaving for Mathura
If only, even for a second, you would have looked at me, I would have endured my whole life cherishing that one moment. But no – you had accepted me as the pit of all your sorrows. In your eyes, I had deceived you. But believe me when I say – I love you. And it is only you that I love. And if that is my fault, then I have nothing else to say.
Today, I have no other companions other than the flute you had gifted me. I keep it close to my heart. In the scorching heat of Jyeshtha, when I wander in the wilds of Vrindavan, I still hear the enchanting notes of your flute. When I press your flute to my lips, I can taste your lips. The trees & bushes of Vrindavan, the waters of Yamuna – everywhere I feel you, I smell you. Even though you are absent, your essence is ubiquitous.
In your life, if you have felt ever felt even least amount of love for me, then by that right I beseech you – just for once, let me see you. I will be gratified by your gesture. After descrying you, even the agony of Hell will be more pleasant for me than the bliss of the Heaven.
I can not endure this solitude any more. What should I do? I can no more bear to exist like this – anticipating, someday you’ll come & engulf me in your arms. I cannot even embrace death in peace, because I want to see you just once before my death. Come back, Kanha. Please come back. Before it’s too late, come back. I cannot live without you, beloved. Before my last breath leaves my earthly body, come back to me, my dear, come back…
Yours Radha
