Along with my meal I put my black blanket on the gritty floor and placed my turban on top of it. I laid my staff next to the blanket. I carefully removed and kept my yellow silk dhoti on the blanket; undressing down to the loincloth. Raising
her countless rippling wave arms, mother Yamuna had been calling me for a long time now. Many birds of different shapes and sizes were gliding freely on her waters. The infinite azure skies had spread overhead, meeting Yamuna far away at the horizon. Squashing the wet sand under my feet, dressed only in my loincloth I ran impulsively and entered mother Yamuna’s arms with a passionate yearning. I got instant shivers all over my body!
Plunging in the water I started swimming to my heart’s content. Sometimes in a straight line swiftly moving my arms forward and sometimes on my back, throwing my arms backward. Soaking myself in the affectionate caress of Yamuna’s warm waters I started reminiscing about many invaluable conversations that I had had with grandfather, father and both mothers. Especially the ambrosial talk of Prananandakaka who, was learned in the ‘Shastras’ started swaying in the lake of my mind like the blooming bud of Brahmakamala. His voice echoed in my ears and mind, “Krishna, my dear child, always remember the deeper meaning of the word ‘Jala’. Dear son, ‘Jala’ is one of the five fundamental elements from which life blossoms and eventually merges in it. It is the most important and powerful element of life. Reiterating the meaning of Jala in my mind, floating on my back, I started basking in the dazzling light of the shining sun. I had completely forgotten myself.
For quite some time, I didn’t even realize that along with Balaramadada our friends had followed me and were swimming leisurely in Yamuna. I became aware of the surroundings with their shouts – ‘Krishna, Kisna, Kanhaiya, and Gopala’. Catching up with them I swiftly splattered chill sprays of water, stifling them. Laughing and giggling we played in the water for a long time. The ascending sun was almost above our heads now. I stepped out of the water first. Dada and our friends followed me. We dried ourselves in the sun, got dressed and started moving towards a big pasture near which there was a sprawling Kadamba tree loaded with fresh, fragrant flowers and foliage. On our way, we came across a plantation of green and yellow striped bamboos. I chose a rather longish bamboo cane neither very tender nor very hard, cut it with the small sickle I had in my blanket and carried it along.
Our flock arrived under the Kadamba tree. The intoxicating fragrance of the flowers and the buzz of the hovering bees and beetles filled the air. Everyone carefully took out their meal packs. Spreading their blankets on the ground all of them sat in a circle along with dada. My blanket was spread inside the circle. Spreading long, wild banana and Palash leaves on my blanket, Sridamana and Bhadrasena gathered all victuals to make ‘gopalakala’. A pile of rotis was stacked on one side and a big ball of chutney sat next to it with a bunch of spring onions. On the other side sat a big mound of soft rice mixed with curds. Black and sand-coloured clay pots of curds encircled the pile of food. Thus, our ‘gopabhoga’ was ready.
I was sitting at a distance under the Kadamba tree, resting my back against the tree trunk. By this time, stretching my neck, using the sickle I had pared the colourful bamboo cane into a beautiful new flute, and had brushed away all the shavings from my yellow silk dhoti. The sun was ablaze overhead. I had barely begun to practice a tune on my flute, when my friends started calling me raising their hands high. Still standing in a circle they were shouting my name at the top of their lungs, ‘Krishna, Kisna, come on, our meal is ready’.
We finished our meal, laughing, giggling, and cracking jokes about each other. Stokakrishna said to me, “Come on Krishna, tell me which things are your most favourite?” Smiling at him I responded, “Stoka, among flowers Parijata is my most favourite; especially the one drenched in dewdrops in the early morning autumn breeze. Its sweet scent is simply matchless and its tiny orange-coloured stem looks so pretty! Isn’t it? Mango is my most favourite among the fruits, especially the one about to ripen, scarlet coloured. In birds, the peacock dancing tumultuously to the tune of the first shower of rain, unfolding its rainbow-coloured, iridescent plumage, fascinates me the most. My most favourite drink is of course the ‘gorus’ – cow’s milk – the favourite drink of all Gopas. Now Sankudada will tell you what is my most favourite food. Seizing the opportunity, I astutely put the responsibility of answering that question on dada’s shoulder. Dada patted heavily on Stoka’s back, and laughing loudly, throwing his head back he announced, “Stoka, you are so silly. Don’t you know by now that soft cooked rice mixed with curds with a pinch of salt is his most favourite food!
All our friends went to the banks of Yamuna to quench their thirst. Somebody fetched two pots of water for me while coming back. Standing under the Kadamba tree dada picked up the newly made flute in his hands and asked me in astonishment, “Hey, how do you do all this? Not just this, but everything else that you do.” I simply smiled.
I spread my blanket over a tall boulder, and lay down. It automatically shielded my head from the sun rays sneaking through the Kadamba foliage. I spoke in a loud voice, “Stoka, Varuthapa, Damana and friends, now listen to my most favourite musical instrument!” Closing my eyes, engrossed in myself I began playing melodious tune after tune on my flute. All my friends relaxed wherever they could, spreading their blankets under the shades of various trees like Aamra, Anjan, Khair, Jamun, and Shisam. Closing their eyes, all engrossed in themselves they started listening to my ‘Sangitayoga’, melody of music. It was their most favourite ‘Vishramayoga’- repose, unbeknown to their own innocent self!
The sun had descended a little further and the third quarter of the day had begun. By this time the warm gusts of wind flowing from the Yamuna had considerably cooled down. Their cool touch snapped me out of my musical reverie. I opened my eyes slowly. At once I sat up on my blanket as I glanced around. All the cows which had scattered far away in the meadows and all my Gopa friends – Stokakrishna, Varuthapa, Goparama, Sridamana, Bhadrasena, Sudama, Pendya – who had been resting around leisurely had huddled around me. I smiled. I got up and shaking the dust off my blanket I started planning for the next activity – a variety of exciting, mind-refreshing games!
All of us gathered on the wide sandy banks of Yamuna. I divided my friends into two equal teams selecting them as per my judgment and selected two healthy boys from amongst them as the leaders of each team. As he was hefty and well-built Balaramadada himself became one of the leaders. Everyone was urging me to be the leader of the other team. Giving many excuses, somehow, I managed to convince them otherwise and made Stokakrishna leader of the other team. Balaramadada immediately questioned, “Then what are you going to do, Dhakalya?”
“Me? I am going to be the referee!” I smiled.
To this, everybody shouted in affirmative commotion, “Yes, yes, let our Kanhaiya-Kanhoba be the referee. He will be an impartial judge for sure.”
We got engrossed in playing Hututu on the banks of Yamuna. Hututu was a tricky game. A game where one was supposed to capture the opponent off guard while keeping an eye on the boundaries of the play area. Was it not a symbol of life, not only of us Gopas, but life in general? A game of continuously holding on to breath, in the confines of a limited territory!
After Hututu we played Aatyapatya. Then we played Lagori. Finally, when all were exhausted, we started playing ‘blind man’s bluff’.
By this time evening was approaching. Wild parrots, hawks, cranes, larks, herons, many birds were returning to their nests creating a cacophony of weird chirping sounds. Our cows returned mooing, content after grazing to their fullest and quenching their thirst with Yamuna’s water. The refulgent crimson platter of the setting sun was gently touching the surface of Yamuna.
I shouted with an impulsive urge, “I have formally become a gopa today. Therefore, I am going to teach you a new game. I am sure you will like it, but for that each one of you will have to finish the tasks that I am going to assign you, as soon as possible.”
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sp; “Yes, yes, tell us Krishna, what do we have to do?” all of them shouted together in approval.
Balaramadada and I will stay here. Vadaja, Sudama, Rudrasena, Bhadrasena and a few others will carry pitchers and fetch as much water from Yamuna as we need. Some of you will collect fresh white flowers and fresh Bela leaves from the woods nearby. A few others will collect fresh warm milk in pitchers. The rest will stay with us. Come on. Hurry up now! Get to work fast!”
All of them scattered around to complete the tasks I had assigned them. Dada and I chose a clean place on the bank of Yamuna. We started working on the soft, blackish, wet sand of Yamuna. We removed big stones and pebbles and briskly we started collecting fine, soft sand and kneading it with water. Whatever we were about to build, was going to last for the night. With the help of our friends, soon Balaramadada and I erected a waist-high ‘Shivapindi’ – a symbol of Lord Shiva along with the majestic Nandi! The ‘Shalunka’ base of the ‘Shivapindi’ was shaped like a kettle-drum and its tapering end pointed towards the north. Oh, how neat and elegant it looked!
In the presence of the sun lingering on the western horizon I told dada to perform the ritual of Abhishek by pouring the fresh milk slowly on the Shivapindi. Following him all our friends and I also did the same. After that we poured water on the Shivapindi. As per my instructions all my friends offered white flowers and the Bela leaves on the idol. We all closed our eyes and brought our palms together in prayer. We began singing the hymn of lord Shiva in unison.
The sun immersed completely on the western horizon. After some time, I opened my eyes before everybody else and glanced at the Shivapindi. Only its edges were barely visible now. I said to all, “Dada and friends, the gopas of Abhirbhanu family line have been the worshippers of Lord Shiva since ancient times. The ‘Shalunka’ base of the Shivapindi symbolizes the female Yoni and the Lingam represents the male potency. Shiva also known as Shankara is the one that tranquilizes the turbulent mind. If needed, for the sake of peace, he performs his ‘Tandava’ dance at times to destroy the evil. Lord Shiva is the God of Destruction, the destruction of wrong and evil.” Everybody kept listening to me in awe. I had only reiterated the words I had heard some time back from the family priest Abhirananda. Not a single word of my own!
Contented, we quickly picked up our blankets. We dispersed and gathered the scattered cows back in a herd. Dada and I left for the western gates of Gokul along with our friends. On our way back I pulled out my flute from the folds of the blanket and completely engrossed, I began playing various tunes spontaneously. As the warble in my tunes hit the climax, someone came rushing towards me and held my hand effusively. My flute stopped automatically. I opened my partially closed eyes completely. Standing in front of me was a gopa woman – young, healthy, fair and innocent. She was older than me, tall, and had sharp features. An incredibly beautiful woman! I asked my friends curiously, “Who is she?”
Somebody replied, “She is Radha, wife of gopa Rayana! She has come to Gokul from Arishtagram, her mama’s town.”
By this time Radha had stroked my cheeks with her fingers and cracking her knuckles on her temples as a gesture to avert all evil she exclaimed, “Oh Kanhaiya, such heart-rending tunes you play! It makes me yearn for more. For a long time, holding the flute in my hands I stood still as if I was not among my friends! Her very first touch was full of affection like both my mothers and of innocence like my younger sister Ekananga. But there was so much more in it that I couldn’t put in words, and so I will never be able to describe it.
She looked at Balaramadada and just smiled, but didn’t speak anything as such with him. Putting her hand on my shoulder she started walking along with all of us towards the incline leading to the western gates of Gokul. While walking, she said to me, “Kanhaiya, every time I hear your flute, I feel like becoming one myself!”
The moment she had touched me, I had realized that she was a part of my body! Unknowingly I put my own hand in her warm, chubby palm. She held it with such intense passion, as if she was going to lead me! Today I was initiated as a gopa and today itself I had met her. She was also going to initiate me in another way. With her one-of-a-kind relation with me she was going to impart the knowledge of the essence of womanhood as an element of nature.
Our cattle had already entered Gokul through the western gates. Along with Balaramadada and friends I also entered Gokul, with Radha. I let go of her moist palm that I was holding so far. She patted gently on my shoulders and left for her colony. Looking at her fading figure I recollected the meaning of the word “Dha”. Prananandakaka had explained it’s meaning to me some time back. “Dha” means “Moksha” – freedom from the circle of life and death. I racked my brains to recollect the meaning of the word “Ra”, but it simply kept eluding me. We tethered the cows, and washed our feet. Then we entered our house through the wicket gate, changed our clothes and put our gopa dresses in their proper place.
As soon as I entered, I shared two things with Thorali smilingly, “We erected a huge Shivapindi on the shore of Yamuna today with wet sand. And just now I met Radha. Her voice is as sweet as honey.”
As usual Thorali gave me a pleasant smile. While arranging our dinner plates in the dining room she said to me, “Oh silly Krishna, how long is the sand Shivapindi going to last? And the woman Radha you are talking about - she is gopa Rayana’s wife. No wonder she was enchanted by your flute. Sometimes I also get carried away by the sound of it! But you better stay away from Radha as far as possible – her husband Rayana is very short-tempered!
We sat down for dinner and offered Chitrahuti around our plates. Our plates were filled with rotis, curds, milk, and chutney along with some sweetmeats. Father and all our kakas had already dined. They were sitting in the veranda. After dinner, we washed our hands and came to the veranda. We bowed to pay our respects to all the elders and sat on the grass mats on the floor. The music maestro Mahanandakaka sang a few gopa songs to the rhythmic beats of gopa instruments. Chitrasena aajoba shared a few thrilling tales of our victorious ancestors.
To listen to those tales Thorali, Dhakali and all our kakus were sitting behind the doors of the veranda. Our cousins were also sitting there with their mothers. Young Eka came walking briskly and sat in my lap. Finally, I asked Prananandkaka a question that had been nagging me for quite some time, “Pranakaka, what does “Ra” mean in Sanskrit?” He was sitting right next to me. He patted lovingly on my shoulder and said with a smile, “Kanhaiya, you are usually the giver; you give everything to everybody, especially joy. How come today you are asking about gaining something? ‘Ra’ means to get, to obtain, and to achieve!”
A melodious tune of flute flashed through my mind - ‘Ra’ means to obtain. ‘Dha’ means ‘Moksha’. ‘Radha’ means a being desperately longing for ‘Moksha’! Almost two hours had passed by. On the proclamation platform for official announcements in Gokul the timekeeper gave time with tolls on the iron disk. The Karanjel oil lamps burning in the tiny houses of Gokul were snuffed out. Their acrid smoke made the elders in the houses cough a couple of times, and then they surrendered to sleep. The entire Gokul was sleepy!
Our family priest chanted ‘ॐ’ (AUM) in a high pitch and joined his palms in prayer. Following grandfather all the youngsters joined their palms in prayer and closed their eyes. Eka was sitting in my lap; I covered her palms with mine joining them in prayer and closed my eyes. Imitating the others, Eka closed her eyes. In the council room of our house the traditional collective prayer of the Abhirbhanu family began in unison.
“Aum Ishavasyamidam sarvam yatkinch jagatyanjagat lTyen tyakten bhunjitha ma grudha kasyaswidadhanam ll”
This universe is God’s home. He resides in everything in this world. Therefore, enjoy whatever God gives to you. Don’t let greed possess you. A verse from Rigveda proclaiming the Truth followed –
“Aum HiraNamayena PatreN Satyasyapihitam Mukham lTatvam PushannapavruNu Satyadharmay Drishtaye ll”
The visage of Brahma is veiled by a vessel
as brilliant as gold. I am a sincere devotee of Brahma. Therefore, to help me get to Brahma, Oh Sun god, please remove this veil and let me behold the TRUTH, The Brahma, with my own eyes.
Outside, on the time disk of Gokul, tolls continued to follow one after the other. The jingling bells continued to resonate in the cow pens.
There was only one word lingering in my mind when I rested my back on the bed. ‘Ra … Dha …’ - a being eagerly yearning for ‘Moksha’!
The very next day Kelinandakaka awakened dada, me, and all our cousins well before dawn. We performed our morning ablutions. After having plenty of fresh milk, we gathered in the central courtyard of our house, as kaka had asked us to. He gave all of us some instructions — more so to dada and me. That was always the case. Chitrasena aajoba, Nandababa, family priest Abhirananda, both mothers, all our kakas and kakus always gave both of us special treatment. Why did they do it? I never got any satisfactory answers to that question. I would get quite upset by this and such other questions that flooded my mind.
Balaramadada has crimson fair complexion. Why am I the only one with bluish, dark complexion? Why am I the only one who yearns for Yamuna? What is the connection between Gokul and Mathura? Who is Maharaja Ugrasena of Mathura? Why has his son Kansa imprisoned his own father? And why do I have a frequent intense urge to visit Vasudeva and Devakidevi detained in Kansa’s prison? My mind irresistibly longs to visit Mathura. Why? None of my questions were ever answered. What is my association with Mathura? How come Radha who met me only yesterday has such intense yearning for me? Does Balaramadada also face such questions like I do? Nobody was ever going to answer that question either. Finally, I would just smile and answer my own questions. And when my answers turned out to be true, I would smile to myself.
Today Kelinandakaka drove us cousins out through the wicket gate well before dawn. It was just like how we used to drive our cattle out of the eastern gate of Gokul. He brought us directly to Gokul’s gymnasium. Gokul was not yet awake. The breeze coming from the Yamuna was pleasantly cool and fragrant.
Srikrishna- the Lord of the Universe Page 4