HARE KRISHNA HARE KRISHNA KRISHNA KRISHNA HARE HARE HARE RAMA HARE RAMA RAMA RAMA HARE HARE 17 страница
“Is He a dark rasa-filled rain cloud floating on the rasa-filled waves of transcendental enchantment within Your blissful rasa- filled splendorous reservoir of nectarean ever-increasing happiness amidst the fickle lightning-flash gopi embodiments of shringara-rasa? Is He a boundlessly beautiful bouquet of blissfully bluish lotus flowers, brazenly breasting the onslaught of unabashedly blossoming lotus-like water-warring golden gopi goddesses? Is He an autumnal moon, descending from the heavens in the middle of the day to boldly plunder the pride of the cakravaka-like floating breasts of His enthralled, charmingly contrary, strenuously resisting, honey-moon-faced delightful sakhi sweethearts?”
Excitedly musing in this way, I will blissfully behold the inconceivable, all-attractive playfulness and handsomeness of beloved Shyama as He expands His beauty in an attempt to forcibly subjugate the sweetness of His countless sakhi combatants while simultaneously assailing each one of them with reciprocal volleys of prema-rasa. Amorous Shyama will wantonly wrestle them hand to hand, chest to breast, neck to neck, cheek to cheek, mouth to mouth, tooth to tooth, and finally, dueling tongue to dueling tongue! In an instant, He will teasingly steal away their wealth of garments and ornaments, allowing His honey-thirsty bumble-bee eyes to madly drink the luscious nectar of each sakhi’s eternally resplendent, blissful lotus-like delicate limbs as they coyly retreat to hide amid the multitudes of lilies and lotus flowers.
Lalita Sakhi, noticing the rising waves of secret amative infatuation splashing the lakeshore of my heart, will near the water’s edge, and after jokingly showering me with splashes of premamrita, she will quickly catch the corner of my skirt to playfully pull me in.
“He Lalite! Do you want to make all of your girlfriends corrupt like you? Misery loves company!” Frantically laughing and strenuously struggling to free myself from her forceful grip, very much afraid of what Shyama might do to me if she actually succeeded, I will somehow deftly manage to escape. As I hastily recoil my feet from the peripheral waters of the kunda, laughing Lalita will heartily splash at me again and again. Ananga Manjari, knowing my innermost intentions, will lovingly glance upon me with beaming approval.
He Shyameshvari Radhe! At that time my heart, splashed by waves of amorous amusement, will marvel, “Have the glistening gopi goldfishes plunged into a play-pool of ever- increasingly nectarean shyama-rasa, just to become caught in the love-net of their own boundless amorous obsessions by the fishermen of Shyama’s ever-enchanting playful glances? Have they now become utterly overwhelmed and captivated by encountering His incessant spirited splashing showers of love- drenched handsome delightfulness? Has Jayashri, the glamorously glowing, gorgeously golden goddess of victory, now intervened to totally overwhelm and incapacitate a mortally mesmerized Shyama? Has She not victoriously vanquished His every hope of superceding the indomitable preponderance of Her ever-resplendent, ravishingly curvaceous, triumphantly transcendent boundless bodily beauty?”
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Preoccupied in this way, I will joyously shower volleys of fragrant flowers to celebrate the ascendancy of vivaciously playful You, my supremely victorious, water-warring svamini! Then, along with Your friends, You will delight in making music by rhythmically slapping the water with Your reddish lotus-like hands. Just as lotus-like sadhakas, deeply rooted in the nectar- pool of hearing, chanting, and remembering the gopi’s pastimes with Your lover, rise to exuberantly dance, celebrating the festival of sankirtana with the hope of attaining Your eternal loving service, the happy lotus flowers emerging from Radha- kunda’s agitated waves will jubilantly dance to the sway of Your amorous midday pastimes, swaying to and fro as if agitated by the intense desire for a felicitous festival in the tender touch of the lotus petal finger tips of Your Shyamasundara’s lotus-like conjugally clever hands!
He Praneshvari! When, after witnessing the conclusion of Your blissful water-play, will I be so privileged to catch hold of Your delicate lotus-bud hands to carefully help You up onto a beautifully bejeweled bathing platform near the water’s edge? Rati Manjari and others will then assist in Your massage and bath. Meanwhile, I, anticipating the confidential flow of Your heart, will, upon Your sweet indication, go to help Rupa Manjari gently anoint and bathe Your all-enchanting lover. Upon quickly bathing and emerging from the nectar mellow waters of Your kunda, my blissful shapely juvenescent features will become all but conspicuous through my dripping thin white bathing- garment. At that time, the sight of my delicate loveliness will, for Your absolute delight, make the unrestrained, roving eyes of Your incomparably handsome Shyama savor an inspiration ten million times greater than that which He achieves from the mutual fascination of His pure, supramundane direct anga-sanga with me! Hiding from His view, I will don fresh, thin dry clothes handed to me by one of my friends. We will then all enter an indescribably gorgeous temple of jewels within a grove of kalpa- vriksa trees. There I will joyfully help You and the sakhis dress and decorate our beloved Lord Shyama. We will offer varieties of charming, ornately fashioned flower dresses and ornaments made from various forest flowers, leaves, twigs, and peacock feathers. Beholding His charming features, I will blissfully muse, “How sweet! How cute! How lovable! How irresistible! No wonder She becomes so incredibly impatient!”
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He Radhe! Knowing the flow of my heart, You will indicatively instruct me with the hints of Your assuring, ruthful eyes. At that opportune moment, I, with a happy heart, will shyly present effulgently smiling Shyamasundara with the new bamboo vamsi flute I secretly made for Him at home the previous day. With Your beaming consent, He will happily accept. Then, with His lotus eyes blooming, He will cheerfully inspect its excellence, sweetly flutter a few notes to be sure, and carefully tuck it into His flower belt. I will blissfully marvel at how my most merciful You, along with Shrimati Lalita Devi, so cleverly orchestrated Your sublime lilas to incorporate the fulfillment of my own heart’s cherished aspiration.
We will then ornament both You and the sakhis with many varieties of gorgeous, intricately designed, sweetly scented flower dresses, anklets, belts, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and candrika crowns. Vrinda will then invite everyone to assist in serving a superbly sumptuous forest picnic that she has just arranged for Your beloved Shyamasundara, Subala, Ujjvala, and two or three other of His most intimate priya-narma-sakhas. Ever-hungry Madhumangala will also miraculously appear on the scene just in time to fill his bottomless belly. The vana-devis will then bring forth many varieties of deliciously prepared fruits, roots, and nuts gathered from the forest, and You and all Your girlfriends will carry various milk-sweet preparations brought from home. I will also bring the homemade succulent gulkanda-laddus and creamy cashew burfi, which I secretly prepared with the hopes that Shyama may at this time accept and delight in them. I will be overjoyed to see Him happily relish all of our offerings. Thereafter, I will please You and the sakhis by helping to distribute His nectarean prasada. Thus, I will make You once again savor the sweetness of His adharamrita kisses! As Shyamasundara and His friends recline on soft, spacious flower beds, resting and relaxing while chewing sweet tambula, You will, out of inestimable gratitude and love for Your ever- surrendered maidservants, benevolently expand the compass of His compassion by personally sharing the remnants of His mercy-kisses with each and every one of us!
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Dear most merciful Shrimati Radharani! I will ever attach the desires of my heart, the activities of my perfect spiritual body, my eternal life, the transcendentally situated soul of my very being, my everything, and my all and all to the shoreless nectar-ocean of the pastimes of Your tender lotus feet. By the unfailing influence of Your special causeless mercy upon me, my heart will be ever-increasingly overwhelmed with undeniable, transcendentally passionate loving attraction to the Lord of Your life. Still, I will never, abandoning the consideration of Your ultimate satisfaction, independently endeavor to please Your beloved Shyama, even if He, in a secluded grove, unceremoniously tries to force Himself upon my frail existence. Shyama belongs to You, and You, by Your boundless benignity, belong to me. Therefore, Shyama, bound by Your gracious desire, automatically belongs to me within the context of my loving service to the extended mercy feature of Your pleasure pastimes. Without Your consent, I will not, and therefore cannot, do anything. Taking absolute refuge at Your lotus feet and giving up all egocentric motives, I will do anything and everything for Your pleasure. You will always be my supreme svamini. My enthusiastic singing of His Holy Names, my earnest glorification and recollection of His form, qualities, and pastimes, my sincere friendships with His devotees, my ardent longing for His occasional encounter, and my acceptance of His mercy upon Your ever-loyal, incorruptible, unalloyed maidservant will be done exclusively with the aim of satisfying You. Instrumentally acting upon Your expressed wishes or, when required, simply doing the needful upon anticipating the flow of Your inner feelings, I will delightfully serve to satisfy the senses of Your laudably libidinous lover! I will do so not so much to mitigate His distress but to relieve the para-duhkha-duhkhi heartfelt anguish You feel when apprehending the disconsolate condition of His ever-insatiable, transcendentally impassioned heart. He Svamini Radhe! I will thus have no separate interest apart from Your own. Regardless of whatever deeds I may apparently enact for the pleasure of Shyama, my bhavollasa-rati will remain forever intact and immaculate by dint of my heart’s constant vicarious absorption in the pleasure of my yutheshvari. Ultimately, whatever actions I may perform in Krishna consciousness will be eternally governed by the satisfaction of my guru-rupa-sakhi.
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My dearmost beloved Shrimati Radharani! You
undoubtedly relish ten million times the happiness of Your own intimate meetings with Shyama by sharing Him with Your confidential companions! Who can fathom the limits of Your divine inspirations? Moreover, it is a profound truth that Your infinitely indomitable beloved Shyamasundara derives a special, ineffable bliss by agreeing to be astonishingly overwhelmed and conquered by the love of Your infinitesimal, eternally separated vibhinnamsha protégée. Therefore, from time to time You are thrilled to facilitate such a variety of happiness in Him. The individual soul’s endearing preferential prema for Your lotus feet causes Your kindness upon her to increase to the highest degree. Actually, it is her deep love for You and Your amplified ananda expressed as consequent compassion upon her, more than anything, that profoundly impresses Him and forces Him into submission. Thus, some of Your sakhi-snehadhika maidservants, will certainly, under special conditions prearranged by You, sometimes agree to meet with Your beloved when wholly convinced of Your absolute delight. In doing so, they never breach Your confidential trust and are thus never deprived of their supremely privileged access to Your most intimate nikunja-sevas. The amplified ananda within Your heart spontaneously inundates their intensely absorbed tad- bhavecchatmika consciousness. This makes it possible for them, in all circumstances, to relish a pleasure ten million times that which they could ever access by direct sambhogecchamayi association with the Lord. There is nothing very astonishing about that, for they are most affectionately, if not ever exclusively, committed and selflessly surrendered to the happiness of Your heart.
O Radhike! When oh when, as the pasha-khela dice board is placed before You, will I happily hear with my own lucky ears Your sakhis jestingly humiliating playful Shyama by insolently declaring, “This is not the forest for tending cows, playing macho muscle-games, and killing raksasa demons! This is a brain-game to test the sagacity of skillful persons before the learned assembly!” To my sudden trepidation, the both of You, dice in hand, will then unexpectedly decide to stake me alone as the winner’s prize! Shameless Shyama will cunningly vaunt His farcical triumph, inciting a riotous dispute among the sakhas and sakhis. Kundalata, siding with Him, will advocate on His behalf, prattling so many promiscuous presumptions. In an instant, eminently erudite Nandimukhi, famous as Paurnamasi’s foremost disciple, will push her way to the forefront. Boldly asserting Your obvious upper hand, she will dismiss all opposing arguments with a single retort. She will then promptly pull jubilantly laughing me by the arms to You. Catching the base of my braid, my unlimitedly merciful ganeshvari, Shrimati Lalita Devi, will then force me, whose gladdened heart is already Yours, to surrender my head at Your lotus feet, like a sold-out animal.
He Radhe! When, as the wagering of the flute, kisses, embraces, ornaments, and clothing begins in earnest, will I, with great apprehension, hear Vrinda’s panicky messenger parrots suddenly report the nearing of Mother Jatila to the vicinity of the Surya-mandira? Being so alerted and helping to quickly change back everyone’s clothes and ornaments, I will hastily grab the flower basket and go with You and the sakhis to the temple of the Lord of the day. Shyama will appear so charming, returning on the scene disguised as a highly intelligent, supremely sense-controlled, gentle brahmana boy. How humorous! When Jatila unsuspectingly accepts Him as Your priest for the now-very-late worship of the Sun God; when she credulously instructs You to wholeheartedly surrender to His lotus feet; when Shyama pleasingly bewilders her with His outrageously illusive astrological declarations, convincing her of Your “unblemished” fidelity toward Your imbecile eunuch of a so-called husband; when she unwarily beseeches Him to become the permanent priest of her household deity; when greedy, comical Madhumangala rapaciously appropriates the daksina and sweets upon Shyama’s pompous refusal to accept – how will I be able to contain my insuppressible laughter?
How will I be able to bear the sudden, overwhelming swell of veiled agony within the core of Your heart as You reluctantly traverse the return path to Yavata? “Has the condensed milk of Her heart’s jubilation, sweetened by the ever-enchanting sight of His ever-increasing handsomeness, now curdled at the prospects of virulent viraha?” Thus deliberating, I will reel with despair. As we enter the citadel of Your in-laws’ home, Your intensely distressful feelings of separation will reach insuperable proportions. How will mere camphor, sandalwood paste, wet lotus stems, and conciliatory chicanery suffice to alleviate the conflagration consuming Your heart at that time? Only when You carefully make manohara laddus, amrita keli, karpura keli, ananga gutika, and other nectarean sweets for Shyama’s supper will You become even a little cooled and pacified. Then, as we return to Your private chamber, You, engladdened and sweetly smiling, will mercifully sit me down on an exquisite couch and, reclining to rest for a little while with Your head upon my lap, softly intimate to me the longings of Your Shyama-infatuated heart as other maidservants fan You and gently massage Your delicate limbs.
He Radhe! After we have bathed, dressed, and decorated You nicely for the evening festivities, You will desperately beseech me to mercifully show You the Lord of Your life. When I cheerfully pull You to the top of the candra-shalika, You, anticipating the quickly approaching evening sky, will see the clouds of dust upraised by the hooves of the cows. I will then enthusiastically take You, on some pretext, to a thicket by the side of the path. There You will have the opportunity to exchange in an unseen way profoundly ecstatic, meaningful glances with Your beloved. Shyama, swaggering like an inebrious elephant, will intoxicate the whole of Vraja as He returns rollicking home from the pastures with His uncountable jovial cowherd boyfriends and cows.
“Is He a lordly elephant parading into Vraja with a host of rapt attendants? I hardly think so, because when have we ever seen an elephant herding a myriad of cows? Is He a tamala tree moving on a pathway between the Ganga and Yamuna? No! It could not be, because tamala trees don’t play sweet, mind- alluring songs on the flute, and the rivers Ganga and Yamuna don’t moo like cows and buffaloes! Is He a walking, talking, playful sapphire deity of divine love benedictions? Maybe, but why has this one lost His equilibrium upon glimpsing the sparkling rays of the toenails of Your lotus feet? He Krishangi Radhe! Just once more, see His charm! His peacock-feathered, forest-flower crown; His vraja-dhuli-dusted, sweetly curling locks of hair; His fascinating, sweetly smiling, unlimitedly kissable honey-moon face with gracefully dancing, elongated lotus-petal eyes; His ever-victorious, flirtatiously frolicking cupid’s-bow eyebrows; His shark-shaped earrings sweetly swinging alongside His gorgeous glistening cheeks which are splendidly adorned with candana and mineral pigments from the slopes of Govardhana Hill – O Radhe, just see! His handsome lion’s neck and beautiful broad shoulders tastefully draped with a flowing reddish-gold silk-chiffon cadar and a rope for tying cows; His charming flower-bracelet-bedecked, snake-like reassuring arms with teasingly tender lotus-like hands pressing His new vamsi flute to His bimba-fruit lips; His magnificent Kaustubha-mani adorned chest, a desperate, slender-waisted gopi’s only wish-fulfilling asylum – just see! His lion-waisted torso covered with elegant garlands of gunja and tulasi and a swaying vaijayanti garland reaching down to His knees; His whirlpool nectar navel drowning the helplessly enraptured hearts of whoever ventures to view; His generous, handsome hips wrapped with a crimson brocade sash; His powerful thighs covered with a glistening golden-yellow dhoti hiked-up above His auspiciously visible shanks – just see! Just see and hear His blissfully jingling ankle bells complementing His limitlessly delicate, soft, and gentle lotus feet now traversing the pathway to Vraja! Are the concave arches of those two lovely lotus feet not fittingly contoured to perfectly complement the rotundity of Your two big and beautiful breasts?” Hearing these cheerfully expressed amorous infatuations of mine, intended solely to inspirit Your love-thirsty heart, You will sweetly smile upon Your happy handmaid, all the while eagerly drinking in the ambrosial sweetness of Your homecoming Shyama from the moistened corners of Your overjoyed eyes.
He Shyama-priye Radhe! Upon returning You to Your quarters, I will, on Your tenderhearted command, gather all the various previously prepared sweets and go along with two or three of my closest friends to Nandalaya. There Mother Yashoda will be overflowing with maternal affection as she sees her adolescent Shyamasundara returning the cows to the goshala. With a little persuasion, Shyama will enter His father’s palace for refreshments, with Batu and Balarama. At that time I will happily deliver the sweets to Vrajeshvari and humbly bow before her.
When will that blessed day come when I will be fortunate enough to be mercifully engaged by Yashoda Mata to help bathe, dress, and ornament Your beloved Shyama in the company of her house maidens as she and Mother Rohini return to the kitchen to continue cooking the evening meal? When I massage His limbs with pure nicely scented oil, He, unseen by others, will tug on my veil. In response, I will silently protest by sternly knitting my creeper-like eyebrows. We will then perform His abhiseka by pouring pleasantly scented Yamuna water from exquisite jeweled pots. When I dry Him off with a soft silken towel, He will secretly pinch my trembling left arm. I will silently ignore Him, as if I didn’t notice.
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