Canto Ten - Chapter 30

Śrī Śuka said: When Bhagavān suddenly disappeared, the women of Vraja, unable to see Him, became tormented like female elephants who have lost the leader of their herd.

Their hearts had been swept away by Ramāpati's gait, affection, smiles, playful glances, captivating speech and delightful pastimes. Absorbed in Him, the women began to imitate His various actions.

As their own forms became deeply identified with their beloved through imitating His gait, smiles, glances and speech, the powerless women, absorbed in Kṛṣṇa's pastimes, announced to one another, 'I am He.'

Singing loudly of Him alone, they gathered and searched from forest to forest like maddened women. They questioned the trees about the Puruṣa who dwells within and without all beings like space.

Aśvattha, plakṣa and banyan trees, have you seen Nanda's son? He stole our minds with His loving smiles and glances and then went away.

Kurabaka, aśoka, nāga, punnāga and campaka trees, did Rāma's younger brother pass this way, smiling that smile which shatters the pride of proud women?

Auspicious Tulasī, so dear to Govinda's feet, have you seen your own beloved Acyuta passing with you, surrounded by swarms of bees?

Mālatī, mallikā, jāti and yūthikā flowers, did Mādhava pass by, filling you with joy through the touch of His hand?

Mango, priyāla, jackfruit, aśana, kovidāra, rose apple, arka, bilva, bakula, another mango, kadamba and nīpa trees, and all you others who live beside the Yamunā for the welfare of others, tell us bereft women which path Kṛṣṇa took.

Earth, what austerity did you perform? You shine with your grasses standing erect in ecstasy from the festival of Keśava's foot-touch. Did this joy arise from Urukrama's ancient strides or from the embrace of His form as the boar?

Friend, wife of the deer, did Acyuta come here with His beloved, filling your eyes with perfect delight through the beauty of His limbs? The fragrance of the lord of our family's jasmine garland drifts here, colored by the vermilion upon His beloved's breast when He embraced her.

Trees, did Rāma's younger brother pass here, one arm resting upon His beloved's shoulder and a lotus in His hand, followed by Tulasī and swarms of honey-intoxicated bees? Did He acknowledge your bows with loving glances as He walked by?

Ask these vines. Their arms embrace their husband trees, and they are surely erupting in ecstasy because His fingernails have touched them. How wonderful!

Speaking madly in this way and desperate in their search for Kṛṣṇa, the gopīs became absorbed in Him and reenacted one after another of Bhagavān's pastimes.

One gopī acted like Pūtanā while another, becoming Kṛṣṇa, drank from her breast. Another became an infant and cried while striking with her foot a companion who acted as the cart.

One acted as a demon and carried away another who imagined herself the infant Kṛṣṇa. Another crawled about, dragging her feet and making the sound of ankle bells.

Two became Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, while some acted as cowherd boys. One struck another who became a calf demon, and one imitated Bakāsura.

One called back companions who had wandered far away, just as Kṛṣṇa calls the cows. As she played an imaginary flute, the others praised her, saying, 'Excellent!'

One placed her arm upon another gopī's shoulder and walked about. Her mind absorbed in Him, she said, 'I am Kṛṣṇa. Just see My graceful gait.'

Do not fear the wind and rain; I have arranged your protection. Speaking as Kṛṣṇa, one gopī held her shawl aloft with a single hand and struggled to imitate Him.

O King, one climbed upon another, pressed her foot upon her head and declared, 'Wicked serpent, go away! I have taken birth to punish the sinful.'

Another cried, 'Cowherd boys, look at this raging forest fire! Quickly close your eyes, and I shall easily protect you.'

One slender gopī tied another to a mortar with a flower garland, saying, 'I am binding this breaker of pots and thief of freshly churned butter.' The beautiful-eyed gopī playing Kṛṣṇa covered her face in feigned fear and imitated His frightened expression.

While questioning the vines and trees of Vṛndāvana about Kṛṣṇa in this way, the gopīs saw the Supreme Self's footprints in one part of the forest.

These are clearly the footprints of great-hearted Nanda's son, for they bear the marks of a flag, lotus, thunderbolt, elephant goad, barleycorn and other signs.

Following those footprints to trace His path, the women then saw them mingled with the footprints of a young woman. Pained, they spoke.

Whose footprints are these beside Nanda's son's? She walked with her forearm resting upon His shoulder, like a female elephant walking beside her mate.

Surely this young woman perfectly worshiped Bhagavān Hari, the supreme Lord, for Govinda was pleased with her, abandoned us and led her to a secluded place.

Friends, how blessed is the dust of Govinda's lotus feet! Brahmā, Śiva and the goddess Ramā place it upon their heads to dispel sin.

Yet her footprints greatly disturb us, for she alone stole Him away from all the gopīs and now enjoys Acyuta's lips in seclusion. Her footprints are no longer visible here. The grass shoots must have pained the tender soles of His beloved, so her lover lifted and carried her.

Gopīs, look at these much deeper footprints of Kṛṣṇa, the passionate lover, pressed down by the weight of the young woman He carried. Here the great-hearted Lord set His beloved down to gather flowers for her.

Here the lover picked flowers for His beloved. Look: only the fronts of His feet are impressed, for He stood upon His toes.

Surely the lover sat here and arranged the passionate woman's hair, placing flowers in His beloved's coiffure.

Though unbroken in self-awareness, delighting in Himself and fully self-satisfied, He sported with her, thereby revealing the wretchedness of lustful men and the hardness that passion can produce in women.

Thus pointing out each sign, the distraught gopīs wandered in search of the woman whom Kṛṣṇa had taken into the forest after abandoning all the others.

That gopī then considered herself the foremost of all women: 'Leaving the other gopīs, who were driven by desire, my beloved serves me alone.'

Going farther into the forest, she became proud and told Keśava, 'I cannot walk any farther. Carry me wherever You wish to go.'

Thus addressed, Kṛṣṇa told His beloved, 'Then climb upon My shoulder.' But at that moment He disappeared, and the young woman was filled with remorse.

Alas, my Lord! My lover, my dearest one! Mighty-armed Kṛṣṇa, where are You? Where are You? Friend, please reveal Your presence to this wretched maidservant of Yours.

Śrī Śuka said: The gopīs searching along Bhagavān's path found their companion not far away, bewildered and grieving from separation from her beloved.

Hearing her tell how Mādhava had honored her and then, because of her own misconduct, humiliated her, the gopīs were filled with supreme astonishment.

They then entered the forest as far as the moonlight revealed the way. When they saw that the path had passed into darkness, the women turned back.

Their minds fixed upon Him, their speech filled with Him, their actions imitating His and their selves absorbed in Him, they sang only of His qualities and forgot their own homes.

Returning to the Yamunā's bank with their consciousness absorbed in Kṛṣṇa, they gathered and sang of Him, longing for His return.