Prem Sudha Dhara: Pushpaji

(Page 146)

Shri Radha-Krishna Sing the Malhar with Gopis Adoring Them

Shri Hari

Shri Vrindavan Dhaam

24th August 1974

Dear Pushpa,

With love, Jai Shri Hari.

I have been receiving your letters. Even though the body's well-being is crucial for attaining spiritual merit and inculcating devotion to Krishna but compared to mental composure it is secondary. A mind focused on the divine does not deviate on suffering physically. In my opinion a person with a strong mindset, not afflicted by anxieties and diseases or moved by delightful joys; is always blissful by not not wavering from his search of union with the divine.

Now listen to a beautifully charming incidence:

Love is blind but in the words of highly revered Sakhaji,"Even on being blind it is the most discerning. Shri Radha-Krishna are walking ahead without informing each other but intuitively the two meet at the arched bower framing the entrance of a narrow lane. On one end radiant young Radha clad in a sky-blue saree, a pinkish bodice and draping a yellow odhni (veil) took a step; while glowing in yellow garments and adorning the vanamala youthful Krishna stepped forward at the other. The fusions of delight and of desire gushed forth and momentarily It was tough to restrain the terrifying rush of love. But somehow the two curbed their welling ardour. The supreme lover Krishna and his beloved Radha adoringly adulating each other, arrived at a blooming bower. Hand in hand they smiled, with hearts being on fire with desire.

The shangar or adornment of Priyaji (Shri Radha) was ineffably ravishing today. The capricious eyes of the dark-hued handsome god focused on her, admirably for a few seconds. Soon after, he raved fondly,"You look ever so beautiful. Truly speaking, I do not love myself as much as I am crazed about you. And you would also be loving me as much...!" Rasik Sunder's ardent entreaty was incomplete, as his large eyes welled up with tears of love.

Kishori Radhika kept her hand on his lips and spoke softly,"Stop it! And what about you, always enchanting my body,mind, eyes and heart! Oh, the supremely handsome god. What can I say!" And truly Kishori Radhika was not able to utter a word, enraptured as she was. You never know how long this condition prevailed...both the beloved-lover, steeped in joyous abandon, sat in close proximity in the same way where they were. All of a sudden the sun's rays sharpened, probably to jolt them out of their reverie. Instantly they became consciously concerned about the sun's heat affecting the other.

Priyaji suggested going inside a wild sylvan hideaway, deep within the forest. But Krishna, the colour of the condensed sky, had some other plan today. He smiled and instead of breathing music into the flute he broke into a song in a deep throated charming voice. Strumming the notes of malhar (name of a ragini sung in the rains.) he struck up a melody which resonated in the realm of overgrown creepers. Impassioned by the rhapsody, Kishori spontaneously joined in. On fusion with the supreme lover's sweet voice, Shri Radha's softly tender notes soon enraptured the elements of nature.

Guess what! The insistent paramour stopped the song and breathed music into his flute which is the breath of love and a call to eternity. The mellifluous sound intimately mingled with the exhilarating voice modulation of Priyaji. The forest birds chirped initially, entranced by the rapturous composition but were soon spellbound. The melodious sound of the flute along with the surging exultation of Priyaji pervaded the environs with one mood, one emotion that of shringara bhakti or ecstatic devotion. Dense clouds over cast the sky; it seemed as if the rumbling sound of thunder impressed by this magical music, sang Shri Radha-Krishna's glories.

If this magical moment of love so affected the elements of nature and creatures on the earth, why would it not affect the Brajbalas? How could they remain confined to their houses in such an enchanting season. They cast off their work and all their worldly cares and ran in delicious anguish to Shri Radha-Krishna's side. Treading on the forest path they heard the charming melody of their beloved sakhi; interspersed with the mellifluous sound of the flute. The intoxicating voice of attractive Krishna delighted Radha to a state of rapture at times. The herd of sakhis soon arrived and gazed upon them with joy, clinging on with endearing gestures.

This nostalgia for a lost paradise; a moment of ecstatic response to the glorious rainy season, awakens us to a world transformed by the flute, the breath of love.

Okay then, Jai Shri Hari.

With Love,

Yours Bobo.