Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

Examples:

Upon the lovely bed in the colourful chamber, Sita and her Beloved shine together; having won Love’s battle of rasa, the lovers glow at dawn.
They seem embodiments of enchantment, moons of the night, offering the radiance of their youthful beauty.
Both dear ones have melted into nectar; at daybreak they cannot compose themselves, so intoxicated are they in the full moon’s net of love.
All around, the companions—like cakora birds—rise eagerly for a glimpse; everywhere their eyes glitter like stars at the dawn of an autumn night.

The door is shut and the curtain drawn; aloeswood spreads an exquisite fragrance, while swarms of bees hum as though every drop contained an ocean of bliss.
All the companions, sparkling with eagerness, look in astonishment; again and again they stretch and rise upon their toes, steadying themselves at the doorway.
Understanding that the happy moment has come, they stand ready for abundant playful delight; yet seeing the lovers’ languid bodies, they draw together in tender hesitation.
With Sri Prasad at their head, the whole company approaches and bows at their feet. Kripanivas says: good fortune awakens when the Couple raise their eyelids a little.

When the beloved Couple awaken, still governed by languor, all eyes are blessed by beholding their nectar-filled beauty, and the happiness of dawn is celebrated.
Their slightly curling hair lies scattered, with many flowers clinging to it—as though the lovely moon had emerged from darkness carrying a host of stars into refuge.
Their rolling eyes are reddened by passion’s intoxication; above their lotus faces, graceful eyebrows form garlands of black bees.
Their faces bend beneath Love’s rapture; lips and teeth gleam, their bodies remain absorbed and languid, and from their mouths comes a sudden yawn of love.
Each has an arm upon the other’s shoulder in a loosened embrace, like the branches of a golden vine entwined around a dark tamāla tree.
Teeth, lips, and cheeks bear lovely traces of kisses, as though the consummate artistry of an autumn night of love had become manifest.
Nail-marks shine upon the dark body, exceedingly beautiful with Love, like red creepers planted upon a tamāla tree during the night.
Their loosened necklaces have shed pearls across the bed, like drops of the Svati rain scattered over the autumn ocean.
The folds of the sari and headcloth have fallen; garments of many kinds lie strewn about, filled with their mutual love and pervaded by amorous beauty.
The lovely bare breasts steal Shyama’s gaze—nectar-filled golden vessels of Love that awaken the Beloved’s longing.
Sweet words are heard; the lady moves languidly, and her eyes tell her beloved of the spoils won in Love’s battle.
Fair and dark forms mingle in autumnal reflection, like the Ganga and Yamuna illuminated by a garland of lamps.
Filled with singular love and supreme delight, the lover playfully draws his beloved onto his lap and takes her into his embrace.
Filled with attachment, she drinks in the Lord of her life; absorbed in the happiness of his beautiful form, her body becomes one with that joy.
Then, noticing the companions gathered nearby, the newly radiant Couple turn slightly and lower their eyes in modesty.
Sri Prasad, Jānaki Ju, and her joy-giving Beloved are the touchstone treasure found by the very life of Kripanivas.

The two colourful lovers awaken from sleep.
Their curls are dishevelled, their eyelids languid, and they are steeped in the deep hue of affection.
Drunk upon Love’s nectar, the Beloved shines, captivated by the colour and rasa of his lovely lady.
Kripanivas says: Sri Janakivallabha becomes the object embraced by the companions’ gazing eyes.