Third Sarga: Relishing the Outpouring of Rasa

Third Sarga: Relishing the Outpouring of Rasa.

The maidservants had bathed and anointed their bodies. Their beauty flourished through Rādhā's discarded garlands, garments, and ornaments. Abandoning every desire of their own, they delighted solely in serving the Divine Couple, and their names expressed qualities like those of Śrī Rūpa Mañjarī. (1)

Even a single line upon the soles of their feet surpassed the brilliance of lightning, and they were truly cleverness embodied. Yet although fully qualified to lead groups of sakhīs, they found no taste in such leadership and instead bathed without cease in the nectar-ocean of service to Rādhā. (2)

Within Her mother-in-law's compound, along its northern side, stood Rādhā's radiant private residence, a peerless abode of the finest artistry. Her affectionate father Vṛṣabhānu himself had caused it to be built; nothing but that residence could serve as its equal. (3)

Its pillars, porticoes, roofs, courtyards, rows of gateways, rafters, varied rooms, doors, and platforms all shone. Rows of jeweled lamps illuminated their extraordinary designs, filling the eyes and minds of beholders with wonder. (4)

There a terrace of blue sapphire resembled a rain cloud, while above it gleamed a row of silver geese. Seeing first the cloudlike friend of their race and then the goose, their enemy, the peacocks spread their trains in delight only to draw them in again. (5)

The maidservants assembled in great delight. They swept, plastered, and thoroughly purified the several platforms for sitting, sleeping, dining, adornment, and other activities; spread soft rugs upon them; and fastened overhead a suitable canopy ornamented with pearls. (6)

One maid polished the vessels of gold and jewels. Another brought water suited to the season. A third placed a supporting cushion upon a jeweled couch covered with a many-colored cloth. (7)

Another opened the casket in which garments and jeweled ornaments polished the previous day had been placed. Its rows of bracelets rang loudly as she opened it, and she began grinding camphor, saffron, and sandalwood. (8)

Another cheerful maid fashioned many-colored flowers into crowns, bracelets, armlets, necklaces, and girdles. Yet another prepared delicious betel rolls from fragrant leaves dressed with jasmine, clove, catechu, and other ingredients. (9)

Meanwhile, in every direction, the sounds arising from the churning of yogurt could not overpower the Vedic chanting of the brāhmaṇas. Those chants, in turn, formed a mighty barrier as herds of cows and clusters of calves called out and tried to attend to one another's lowing. (10)

Waves of nectar flowed from the praises and titles celebrating Śrī Kṛṣṇa's glory, sung expansively by excellent bands of bards. Blending with them were the sweet notes of flocks of śārīs and parrots and the swelling tumult of small birds and peacocks. (11)

As these sounds gradually increased, the multitudes awoke and, realizing that day had come, began considering their duties. The matrons of Vraja thirsted every moment for a sight of Kṛṣṇa, and their minds remained bound to Nanda's house. (12)

Then Mukharā, whose very life depended upon seeing her granddaughter's lotus face and whose heart was a casket filled with jeweled layers of maternal affection, suddenly approached and called, 'Rādhe, my child, where are You?' (13)

Rādhā awoke at once and answered, 'Here I am. What are you saying?' Mukharā looked upon Her with yawning and gently rolling eyes. Although she saw Śrī Kṛṣṇa's yellow cloth resting upon Rādhā's breast, she artfully pretended not to notice it. (14)

'Morning has come, yet You are still asleep today! Do You not see the jewel of the sky rising here? Bathe, worship the sun, and then eat something. Alas, Your body grows thinner with every passing day.' (15)

Bathing Rādhā with teardrops, Mukharā wiped Her limbs with her hands, drew Her onto her lap, and fondled Her. Then, with eagerness to see Kṛṣṇa blossoming within her heart, she hurried away to the house of the cowherd king. (16)

Thereafter all the sakhīs arrived one by one. Laughing and joking with one another, they mounted the jeweled and golden platform and sat together in a closely joined circle. (17)

Śyāmalā understood the proper time and knew within her heart that meeting Śrī Rādhikā is the one rain that nourishes every crop of joy. She therefore arrived, embraced Rādhā, and sat there beside Her like Beauty herself. (18)

Rādhā said, 'Śyāme, just as favorable Providence has now brought you, whom I was this very moment remembering, onto the path of My eyes, so if that tree of longing should bear fruit in the same way, I shall indeed count this as a blessed morning.' (19)

'Alas, beautiful friend! That tree grows ever more luxuriant and is constantly watered by the sakhīs, yet even now it has borne no fruit. What can be the reason? Ah, when shall I behold that fruit in an ecstasy of eagerness?' (20)

Śyāmalā replied, 'Rādhe, if that tree of Yours has not borne fruit, it surely will. But, languid girl, I find its fruit astonishing: though it has been savored, the bee intoxicated by its fragrance loudly persuades us that she has never experienced it at all.' (21)

'Lotus-faced girl, the red juice of that fruit has dyed the rows of Your eyelashes, yet You claim You never even saw it. Repeatedly tasting it has left Your lower lip wounded, yet, amazingly, You say You never ate it.' (22)

Rādhā answered, 'Śyāme, you laugh at Me because you have utterly failed to see the wound within My heart, so I shall tell you this: lightning dispels the darkness of night only to double it again at once. Please understand that My experience was just the same.' (23)

Śyāmalā said, 'Rādhe, Providence brought You this moon, the treasury of every art, and with His fingertips made of continuous nectar He delighted You. You Yourself bear His lunar phases upon Your breasts, yet still You slander Him by comparing Him to lightning!' (24)

Rādhā replied, 'Friend Śyāme, He gave Me nothing but His stain, thereby proving to all of you that He truly is the moon. He may sometimes give My cakora-like eyes a particle of moonlight, but never as much as they desire.' (25)

Śyāmalā said, 'Rādhe, speak plainly! Let the celestial river of nectar arising from the nightly play of Your lotus face wash away my fever and immerse me in its waters. Without that morning bath, how could any of my other duties be properly accomplished?' (26)

Rādhā said, 'Śyāme, when a stream of fresh blue radiance entered the bower at night and began putting Me to sleep, someone somehow conveyed Me onto the dramatic stage of an entire company of Cupid's five arrows.' (27)

'Delighted with those actors, I behaved like a member of the audience and gave them coins bearing the impressions of all the functions of My senses. Or did I too perform some wondrous dance there? Friend, just now I cannot remember anything clearly.' (28)

Śyāmalā replied, 'Rādhe, there is an extraordinary ocean of play whose dances astonish even millions of actors resembling the five-arrowed Cupid. Yet in the battle of love You made even Him dance. Ah, You thereby attained the station of the stage director Himself!' (29)

Rādhā said, 'Śyāme, what you are saying, what I have said, and the countless other experiences neither of us has described, what is all this? Alas, was it sorcery, a dream, or merely an immense delusion of My mind?' (30)

Śyāmalā answered, 'Friend Rādhe, the mere fragrance of His lotus face blinds whole communities of respectable women from afar. It is therefore no wonder that, after eagerly drinking its exceedingly delicious honey, Your intoxication has bewildered Your mind.' (31)

Just then Madhurikā arrived. When the others questioned her, she spoke sweetly: 'Friends, listen! I went to the cowherd king's house this morning on someone's errand, and there I witnessed an astonishing sight.' (32)

'Kṛṣṇa! Kṛṣṇa! Lotus-eyed child, wake up!' Milk streaming from her breasts, the queen of the cowherds called to her son. She hurried to the edge of His bed, and upon seeing Kṛṣṇa she bathed Him in drops of joyful tears. (33)

Kṛṣṇa rose from His bed with eyes still gently rolling. His yawn released a vast fragrance that intoxicated the bees, and as He stretched deeply His lotus face tilted upward, loosening and displacing the rows of curls on one side. (34)

Yaśodā stroked Him with her palm from feet to head while reciting the protective mantra beginning, 'May the Unborn Lord guard His feet.' Having thus protected every limb of His body, the queen looked upward and prayed with a voice laden with supplication. (35)

'O God of gods, after so long You Yourself gave us this son, who has become the very life of all His relatives. Lord, You alone must protect Him with the abundance of Your grace. What adequate worship could I ever render You in return?' (36)

Then Yaśodā saw Rohiṇī, venerable Paurṇamāsī, Mukharā, and Kilimbā suddenly assemble, their hearts yearning to see Kṛṣṇa. She joyfully honored each as befitted her with greetings and gracious words, and had her son bow before them as well. (37)

Madhurikā continued, 'Gāndharvike, listen to another astonishing event. When the queen of the cowherds noticed a blue cloth upon her son's chest, venerable Paurṇamāsī said, "Dear queen of Vraja, His garment has been exchanged for Balarāma's cloth."' (38)

'She then told Him, "Mādhava, the crimson glow upon Your cheek is only the reflection of the red jewel in Your earring." The moment she said this, He used His own hand to rub away that portion of color left by Your lips.' (39)

Yaśodā then said, 'Because drowsiness and discomfort kept Him from liking His food last evening, He has grown thin. Rohiṇī, please feed Him something now.' Thus instructed, Rohiṇī went to bring food for Him. (40)

Kṛṣṇa sat upon a jeweled stool brought by a servant, who helped Him wash His lotus face and perform the other morning tasks. Joined just then by Balarāma and the young brāhmaṇa Madhumaṅgala, He shone like a rain cloud illumined by both moon and lightning. (41)

They delightedly gazed upon fresh butter in a silver vessel, made delicious with rock sugar and rich with the fragrance of camphor. Was it maternal affection dwelling within Yaśodā's heart-lotus that had assumed a visible form before them? (42)

Balarāma and the others were satisfied by the butter the queen repeatedly served them. Madhumaṅgala, however, declared, 'I am starving!' even when he could eat no more, and so she gave him still another portion. (43)

Although the cowherds were highly skilled and eager to milk the cows, all their efforts proved fruitless. The clusters of calves kept sucking, yet not one of them obtained even a drop of milk from the cows' full udders, and thus they all became despondent. (44)

'The cows stand upon Your path with tears filling both eyes. They release no milk and will not lick the calves that approach them. Their lowing resounds through every direction, and now they cannot endure even the slightest delay from You.' (45)

A cowherd came and spoke these words to Kṛṣṇa about the milking. Showering His mothers with the nectar of a slight smile that communicated His own joy, He made them happy, adorned His lotus face with the red of betel, and stood up. (46)

Yaśodā said, 'Balabhadra, after finishing the milking, if you go with your younger brother to the wrestling arena, do not delay. Let me perform the rite that wards away evil from You for just a moment. Play with Your friends, then quickly return to eat.' (47)

Hearing His mother's words, Hari said, 'Mother, You do not trust Me, for You address only Him in this way. Among all these boys I alone am the foremost in good conduct. If that were not so, why would I accept submission to Him?' (48)

Yaśodā replied, 'Child, all the women of Vraja know very well how well behaved You have been from earliest childhood. I grieve to think how many times they have come here crying aloud from the pain of losses in their own homes!' (49)

Friend, His left hand shone like a budding lotus, adorned by the brilliance of a milking rope that surpassed a succession of lightning flashes. His mother quickly placed a small golden milk pail in His hand, and He appeared more beautiful than ever. (50)

His leisurely steps rivaled a herd of lordly elephants and made His tiny bells ring jhañ-jhañ. Waves woven from the radiance of His restless curls and jeweled earrings bathed the moonlike orb of His face. (51)

The playful dance of His fluttering yellow shawl was like lightning upon the radiant cloud of His body, raising His beauty to new heights. The Kaustubha rose like a sun within the circle of His swinging necklace, while His long forest garland kissed His ringing foot ornaments. (52)

Leaving the lovely residence and proceeding ahead, He gave joy to His mother's eyes. Eating a radiant betel roll held ready by the servants, He reached the outer gate. (53)

Reaching the paved terrace outside the gate, He moved His eyes among the clusters of upper rooms, searching, 'Which girl is where, and what is she doing?' Surrounded by His intimate joking friends as they joined Him from every side, He shone splendidly. (54)

As one who relished the confidential reports those friends whispered into His ear at every step, an indescribable smile arose upon His lotus face. How could I possibly explain all that it meant? Friend, let the bee of Your own heart discover its meaning. (55)

Whose mind did not plunge into the immense sweetness of His turban's graceful tilt at that moment? And how can anyone describe the abundant radiance of the jewels gleaming in the network of golden threads crowning that very turban? (56)

His spreading fragrances, followed by the sounds of His anklets and other ornaments, compelled rows of young women to climb onto their balconies. As He walked along the path to the cowshed, how many times did they not worship Him with their lotus eyes? (57)

Madhurikā served Rādhā the nectarean beauty of Her beloved, enriched by each of His playful gestures. This cooled the fever born of separation, yet by increasing Her thirst for Him it soon made that fever a hundred times greater. (58)

Joy brought soothing stillness to Rādhā's ears, but the heavy fever arising from thirst entered Her eyes. The sudden, incomparable wealth of a neighbor always causes distress to those who live beside it. (59)

Then Rādhā, who possessed the highest limit of anurāga, said, 'Beautiful-faced girl, only those golden-limbed young women are truly blessed who continually sport in the playful ocean of His loveliness.' (60)

'Alas, why was I even born here in Gokula if this birth never embraces His sweetness? Śyāmale, know this well: in this life not even the slightest steadiness can arise within My exceedingly restless heart.' (61)

Śyāmalā said, 'Sister Lalite, listen. I am going home now, and let my words to Her come to an end. This lotus is bound by thirst, so offer Her at the house of Vraja's lord to the bee of Kṛṣṇa's gaze.' (62)

Distraught by separation from Her beloved, Rādhā's understanding slipped away and She experienced even a moment as long as an age. Her maidservants nevertheless guided Her through every duty appropriate to the time; sheer habit alone made this possible. (63)

Then all the sakhīs were bathed by their own attendants and dressed in suitable garments and ornaments. The radiance of their lotus feet surpassed even the beauty of Lakṣmī born from an ocean of rising autumn moonlight churned into waves. (64)

Thus ends the Third Sarga, entitled 'Relishing the Outpouring of Rasa,' in the great poem Śrī Kṛṣṇa-bhāvanāmṛta.