Her cheeks flushed red. She kept staring at the pearls in her palms for a moment. Then shaking her head as if she was talking to herself she said, “No, my lord, these pearls look more beautiful in your palms than mine.” She poured the pearls from her hands in to my palms, and gave me a mischievous smile while glancing at me from the corner of her eyes that confused me. Looking at the pearls in my palms I asked her, “I didn’t get what you said just now. A whip or a sword will look good in my hands! Maybe the Paanchajanya conch, but the pearls...?” She gave me an innocent smile, and fluttering her thick, long eyelashes, in her ambrosial words she said, “You should observe the pearls in your hands carefully, my lord. They reflect the bluish colour of the sky in your hands. In my hands, they reflect a mere crimson fair shade. The blue colour of the sky assimilates all other colours in itself. Do I really need to explain this to my lord?”
So, that was it then! Before I could say anything to her she turned briskly and pushing the veil aside, she disappeared. Why did she leave so hurriedly? It was because she knew that only by looking at her feet I had come to know that she was having her menses. Our family life had begun.
With Rukmini’s arrival in my life a colourful chapter of ‘family life’ had begun. As per my instructions the artisans had inserted one more step in the golden staircase. The fifth step – added after the steps of both fathers, and both mothers. In the name of Rukmini!
Rukmini’s arrival made my heart’s Dwaraka blossom with iridescent colours of emotions. It reflected the same marvellous freshness that Rukmini’s feet reflected today.
Rukmini
A woman’s life is a potential core with tremendous power of creation. She never looks back in her life once she realizes her inner strength. I am Rukmini – formerly known as the daughter of Vidarbha, the Aandhrabhrutya princess of Bhoja dynasty. That Rukmini was left far behind at the border of Avanti during the duel between Rukmidada and Sri. The one who evolved here in Dwaraka is the Rukmini of Yadavas, who is seasoned by undergoing the tests of time every now and then, with the sounds of the western ocean being her witness. Rukmini of Dwaraka. Rukmini of the entire Aaryavarta.
My husband is worshipped by the entire world, but you see, how easily I could call my husband only ‘Sri’. I usually addressed him as ‘Lord, Aarya, or Yadavaraja’. But in private, while talking intimately to him, I would unwittingly end up calling him ‘Sri’.
Today I am going to relate the story of my life that was in perfect harmony with Sri’s. There is only one problem. His life was just like the vast ocean surrounding Dwaraka. My mind is flooded with the countless waves of his myriad memories just like the continuous and countless ocean waves. As soon as the first one subsides, the next one rises.
Putting them in a sequential order is quite a bewildering task for me. It doesn’t matter anyway. I am going to tell as much as possible, as I recall, from the bottom of my heart; in my own words. I know it from my experience that how much ever I talk about Sri’s life and accomplishments, I won’t be able to cover everything.
I have just returned from Shuddhaksha, the eastern gate of Dwaraka, after performing a major duty of my life. Our firstborn son Pradyumna has arrived with his newly married wife Rukmavati. I have returned after doing the Aukshan to welcome him with Rukmavati, the first daughter-in-law of Dwaraka. Pradyumna is extremely handsome, Madan incarnate, muscular, and well built. Rukmavati is my own niece – Rukmidada’s daughter. Now she has become my daughter-in-law. It was obviously Sri who sagaciously arranged this union.
So far, I have been hearing that I am the only one who possesses extreme beauty. But I was completely disillusioned when I saw Rukmavati, the first daughter-in-law of the Yadavas. She looks just as her name Rukmavati denotes – like a gold bullion!
Sri stood at the Shuddhaksha gate with Rukmavati, Pradyumna and the Yadava army. Enamoured, I kept staring at the three of them. The Yadava trio looked exquisitely mesmeric – like the sacred Bela leaf!
In Kundinpura, Rukmidada and I were always at daggers drawn. We were six siblings in all. Rukmaratha, Rukmabahu, Rukmakesha, and Rukmamali were all younger than Rukmidada. I was the youngest of all. All my brothers always complied with me except for Rukmidada, probably because I was their only sister and the youngest one. But Rukmidada was always the big-headed egomaniac. He was plain arrogant. All the brothers were golden complexioned and handsome as their names implied, just like our father Bhishmaka. Our grandmother, that is our father’s mother, affectionately called him ‘Hiranyaroman’ because of his golden complexion. He came to be known by that name later.
We had only one kaka, Aakrutikaka. He was master of a rare skill of snake charming. His remedial intonation of mantras was a fast-acting antidote for any kind of snake venom.
Since arriving in Dwaraka I didn’t visit Kundinpura ever again. But whenever I remembered Aakrutikaka, an amusing thought would always cross my mind, that my dear Sri was also a master Charmer. Sri could easily cajole someone hell bent on opposing him with his sweet talk without that person realizing it. That was how Rukmidada, who had once fought a deadly duel with Sri, had given his beloved daughter Rukmavati in marriage to Pradyumna and made her Sri’s daughter-in-law. It was the effect of Sri’s charm and his ambrosial words.
My father, Rukmidada and the other brothers influenced by both of them, were against my wedding with Sri. My mother Shuddhamatidevi stood firmly by my side though. She was as innocent and pure in thoughts and actions as her name denoted. She loved me unconditionally, and always gave me courage. Even she did not get a chance to see her son-in-law, the Yadava king Srikrishna, before our wedding. But she readily approved of him as it was her daughter’s choice. Later, I could keep in touch with her only through priest Sushil whom I had first sent to Sri with my epistle.
Except for Shuddhamatimata all others wondered, ‘How did she choose Srikrishna as her husband without even seeing him?’ That question was never answered.
It was a secret! I might as well share it with you, now that I am sharing everything openly. I had actually never seen Sri before our wedding; only heard of his abundant, pure renown reaching the corners of the world. More so, his infamy through Rukmidada’s mouth! Then at exactly what moment and how did I take this decision, so important for me in my life? It was during the first Swayamwar ceremony that dada and baba had organized, where they vilified Sri for not being a Kshatriya, and called him a mere cowherd.
Right in front of me Rukmidada agitatedly and frantically announced his rejection. He kept shouting at the top of his lungs, “We are the descendants of Mahabhoja, the forefather of the Satvat dynasty. We are Kshatriyas. Krishna’s family has lost their status as Kshatriyas, right from the time of Yayati’s son Yadu! He is a mere cowherd! We would rather die than get Rukmini married to a cowherd. She must be married to Chedi king Shishupala, a Kshatriya!
He was completely forgetting that his sister was also a Kshatriya lady. That it was her wedding, and not his own! That was the moment I resolved in my heart that I will get married to that cowherd, to Sri.
When I arrived in the never before seen Dwaraka, I was quite befuddled. No one from my parents’ home had accompanied me here. As the acclaim of golden Dwaraka had spread all over the world, so also well-known was the irascibility of the Yadavas. I was totally bedazzled the first time I saw Dwaraka. ‘How am I going to survive here?’ I wondered. A volley of questions arose in my mind, ‘How will the senior royal ladies welcome me? How will they accommodate me in their circle?’ But soon all the questions and doubts simply vanished. I cannot, till today, forget the spontaneous welcome given to me by the populace of Dwaraka the first time I arrived here. It was as spirited as the ocean waves. The senior ladies in the family included my mothers-in-law Maharani Devakidevi and Rohinidevi, and elder sister-in-law princess Revatidevi who was the wife of Sri’s elder brother Balaramadada. Devakidevi, my elder mother-in-law spontaneously held me in a deep embrace the first time I met her. She affectionately whispered in my ears, “Welcome Rukmi
ni, my dear ‘daughter’. I have been waiting for you.”
Since then Sri’s mother Devakidevi became ‘Thorali mata’ for me. Obviously, Rohinimata became ‘Dhakali mata’ for me. I casually called Princess Revatidevi ‘Tai’ in our first meeting itself. She also reciprocated with the same affection and embraced me calling me ‘Dhakati’. I started calling Aacharya Sandipani’s wife ‘Gurumata’.
The first year after our wedding flew by fast, like the ocean wind. It left behind a medley of colourful reminiscences. Some of them were quite unpleasant though.
Especially the memory at the time of Pradyumna’s birth is so unpleasant that even today its very remembrance gives me the feeling of a gargle with salty ocean water!
That time I was living on the island of Queens’ mansions, in my capacious golden palace. While he was still in my womb Sri and I had decided to name him ‘Pradyumna’. More than me, Sri was quite sure that our child was going to be a son, that too, exquisitely handsome like Madan.
I had very peculiar cravings during that pregnancy. I constantly felt that instead of listening to the unceasing sound of the ocean, I should go to some dense forest far away and live alone in peace. But I couldn’t even enjoy that imaginary privacy, for my mind would suddenly crave to hear the cacophony of musical instruments. Then suddenly I would have an urge to wear bizarre, loose dresses like the Asuras.
The eighteen families of Yadava royalty arranged an exceptionally memorable baby shower feast in my honour at this time. Countless people from various clans of the Yadavas feasted on both the islands. It was but natural. A new scion of the new kingdom of the golden city of Dwaraka was to be born. Balaramadada whom I unwittingly started calling dada instead of bhauji already had two healthy sons, Nishatha and Ulmuka. They were the apple of everybody’s eyes, especially Sri’s favourites. But this was going to be the firstborn son of Sri. Dada was more excited about it than Sri himself. Such a master of mace fighting, and a powerful Yadava, but despite his royal status he would come to the island of Queens’ mansions to visit me. Leaving behind all his rowdiness he would gently explain to me with minute details how I should take care of myself during the pregnancy; just like Thorali. And he would always add, “My brother doesn’t know anything at all! I know him too well! He is always engaged in the royal council, meeting the sages, warfare, politics and what not. You should not rely on him for anything. Whatever you need, feel free to ask for it to Revati!”
For some reason, I would get all giggly listening to his talk. But I would skilfully suppress my laughs and say to him, “I know him all too well, just like you do. Whatever I need I will tell it to Tai. Why her, in fact I will directly tell it to you, dada!” Then saying ‘okay, okay’, he would throw his neck back, and shaking his muscular chest he would laugh out loudly and innocently. That laugh would set the entire island atremble.
No matter how hard I try to forget Pradyumna’s day of birth, in fact, I can’t forget that entire week. Pradyumna was born exactly at midnight. All the old and young Yadava royalty had eagerly amassed outside my delivery room. They wanted to record the exact time of Sri’s first son’s birth. To capture the precise time of birth many golden vessels full of water with time-measuring golden cups afloat were placed outside the delivery room. Skilled priests and astrologers sat alert under the guidance of Gargamuni.
At the exact hour of midnight, the time-keepers gave clear time-indicating tolls on the time disks. Their sound echoed in unison ‘Thann….!’ and dissipated in the booming sound of the ocean. The time-measuring cups in the golden vessels sank at the same time. At that exact moment, the new-born Yadava let out his first cry of life.
At the midnight hour, the island of Dwaraka looked as bright as broad daylight. On the fortification wall of Dwaraka, the four entrance gates and everywhere else in the city, not a foot of place was left without a lighted lamp of Karanjel oil. Ecstatic Yadavas shouted victorious cries in the name of Goddess Ida, and played lezim, zimma and danced to the rhythm of various musical instruments. Maharaja, Rajmata, dada, tai – everybody donated fistfuls of gold coins.
No one – not even Sri and the members of the royalty – was allowed to enter the maternity room to see the new-born baby during the postpartum period. That was the custom. Everybody was going to see him properly only after the first ten days. He was chubby, with thick, curly black hair and had a peaches and cream ruddy complexion. Even the gentlest ocean breeze formed a dimple in his chubby cheeks. Except when he was asleep he constantly kicked his tiny hands and legs in the air like incandescent flames of fire! ‘Pradyumna’ – we had chosen the perfect name for him! Pradyumna means the bright Sun!
The fifth day after the baby’s birth arrived. During the last five days Dwaraka, the Yadava royal capital, was completely drenched in happiness. The fifth night descended. Tomorrow was going to be the sixth day after the baby’s birth. Ubiquitous Goddess ‘Satwai’, mobile in all three worlds, was going to arrive secretly tomorrow to write the baby Yadava’s fate on his forehead. Something that only she knew.
Yadava astrologer Gargamuni was frantically getting ready to welcome Goddess Satwai. He had invited many expert astrologers from Anga-Vanga to Kapisha and Kamboja in Dwaraka to welcome her.
The sixth day dawned. No, in fact it brought a nightmare with it! From the direction of the baby’s bedecked cradle my nurse Vetra came running to my bed, screaming at the top of her lungs and beating her chest frantically, ‘Maharani…! Terrible news! The baby prince has vanished from his cradle. Save me, save me!’
Her loud wailing startled me awake from my sleep. Upset as I was sleep-deprived for last five days I yelled at her, “What is it, Vetra? Why are you screaming like Hell has broken loose?”
“Indeed, Devi, Hell has indeed broken loose! The baby Yadava has vanished from his cradle! How can I face Prince Balarama now?” Terrified of Balaramadada’s temper she began shaking frantically. Her words struck me like lightning. Instantly throwing my blanket away I surged towards the baby’s cradle. I frantically tossed around all the baby blankets in the cradle. The baby was not there! He was nowhere! Lightning had indeed struck. Sri’s first baby, his new-born delicate baby had been abducted within a few days of his birth, in spite of the tight security!
“Oh, Ambika mata...! Ida mata...!” I screamed excruciatingly and losing consciousness I collapsed on the floor. Within moments the distressful, heart-breaking news spread rapidly in the royal family and around the entire Dwaraka city. The city that had been drenched in joy for the last five days, turned dark in instant grief. The Garudadhwaja pennant fluttering atop the Sudharma royal assembly was lowered halfway down in the morning itself. Batches of Yadavas started arriving on the island to console me. The royal minister and both commanders kept them at bay.
Sri came with Balaramadada to visit me in my room. I was lying in bed with dry ginger paste smeared on my forehead, listless. My head was numb and still aching. Sri sat by my side, and lovingly put his hand on my forehead. His divine, affectionate touch gave me much courage and hope. As I opened my eyes Sri gently smiled at me. His smile was gentler than his touch. He said to me, “Get hold of yourself, Rukmini. Be assured that nothing has happened to him, and nothing will happen! He will return at the right time. Trust me.” I put complete faith in the ambrosial words of Sri and composed myself determinedly. Though our relatives were crying while visiting me, I collected myself together.
During this period dada’s loving and loquacious sons Nishatha and Ulmuka came closer to me. Just their bustling around me helped me recover faster. Of course, it was Sri’s idea to keep them in my chamber all the time. Gradually, I pushed aside the sorrow of my first son’s abduction. The citizens of Dwaraka did the same. Time is the biggest healer of any kind of pain. Isn’t it?
Apparently, the citizens of Dwaraka forgot the abducted baby, but I couldn’t. After all I was his mother. He was my firstborn. I didn’t even get a chance to hold him close to my heart and nurse him. His own father, Sri had not even gotten the cha
nce to see him properly. I constantly kept wondering, who could have abducted him? Why? Such wild guessing would eventually make my head ache, but I couldn’t find a single clue. Exhausted, I would then just keep lying in bed. Yet the thoughts of the baby would keep whirring in my mind like a buzzing beetle, tearing my heart apart.
The Yadavas were never the ones to surrender easily. They had come to Dwaraka after courageously and dauntlessly fighting with the Magadha emperor Jarasandha seventeen times. They strived hard to erect this magnificent city from practically nothing. They left no stone unturned in search of the abducted baby. Skilled informers in numerous disguises, left in all four directions to gather clues.
During the period of the search for the baby, inadvertently we all forgot about the Shursena kingdom of the Yadavas. It was our original kingdom.
Six months after the baby’s abduction an untoward event took place in Dwaraka. It so happened that the royal ministry of the Sudharma assembly had an honourable Yadava minister named Satrajita. His wife was Viravati. Satrajita had a twin brother – Prasena, who was his lookalike. He had a stern disposition. Both brothers were prominent members of the royal assembly. This was because of Satrajita’s staunch devotion to the Sun god. Religious rituals were conducted in his grand residence all the time.
His ardent devotion to the Sun god had earned Satrajita the invaluable ‘Syamantaka’ jewel. It possessed exceptional qualities like that of the Paras stone. The place where it remained, automatically flourished with vigour and prosperity. When worshiped with proper rituals and the incantation of mantras, it would turn any piece of iron into gold. On the strength of this gold Satrajita had become a wealthy aristocrat. All his children grew up pampered. All of them were healthy and beautiful. Especially his eldest daughter Satyabhama was most pampered, extremely beautiful and very stubborn. The acclaim of her beauty had not only spread in the Dwaraka-Saurashtra, Aanarta region, but had also reached the distant kingdom of Madhyadesha.
Srikrishna- the Lord of the Universe Page 25