Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

The lovely woman shines beside her beloved, her lightning body resting upon the raincloud of his breast;
Dark curls lie concealed upon her fair sandal-scented limbs like serpents.
Curving eyebrows gleam, an exquisite bindī contains the essence of beauty,
And the lovely moon of her face dyes the beloved’s mind red with passion.
Her paired wagtail-bird eyes smile; the force of youth draws everything taut,
And every limb displays rasa and steals the beloved’s consciousness.

Innumerable flowers are woven into her braid, carefully tended by the bee-like companions;
Its serpentlike length is artfully hidden down her back.
Her crown is set with jewels, fine pearls, and excellent rubies;
The beautiful woman lowers her head, and a pure moon ornament rests upon her breast before her eyes.
The Pair’s faces are twin moons, their forms abodes of beauty from toenails to crown;
Millions of Ratis and Cupids are lured by every limb.

Vina and mṛdaṅga resound; intoxicated by fragrance, the women dance
And sing ever-fresh, nectar-filled melodies while Lakshmana beholds them from every side.
The royal prince shines in the palace amid dense pleasure-groves and bowers,
Performing lovely deeds in a form surpassing Cupid.
Siya Ali, like a greedy but noble bee, begs this excellent boon:
May he dwell with his lovely ladies within the tender lotuses of my eyes.

The description of water recreation in this work is deeply saturated with rasa:

The Couple turn toward the charming pool and speak with smiles.
Chandrakala and the others look on, then arrange everyone into two groups.
On one side stands dark Rama with all the bee-like companions; on the other, Sita with her young women.
The two beloveds begin snatching and casting water with intense affection.
Using fountains of many kinds, Rama and youthful Sita drench one another.
They take water into their mouths and join mouth to mouth—what a wondrous image of love!
Wet garments cling to every limb, revealing youth and casting a net that makes the eyes tremble.
The beloved cannot endure the sight; his mind grows overwhelmed and he repeatedly clasps her to his breast.
Helplessly they unite lap and arms, laughing as mouth meets mouth,
Like black bees within lotuses, performing manifold sports of rasa.

Awakened to the exquisite flavour of the beloved’s limbs,
She begins to cry, “Beloved, beloved—O dark one!”