Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi
Sītārāma-nakhaśikha-varṇana
Composed by Premsakhi
This description of Sita and Rama from toenails to crown is especially noteworthy from a purely literary perspective. Premsakhi achieved extraordinary success in the art of painting pictures with words. The concluding portion of the playful līlā is particularly memorable: the companions dress Rama in a skirt and bodice, adorn him as a woman, and present him before Sita Ji as a new bride arriving after her gaunā. Taken as a whole, the work must be regarded as supremely collectible and worthy of respect, both as literature and for its rasa.
Are these toenails petals of the parijata flower, soaked in the crimson dye of union and the rasa of love?
After acquiring all the skill in the world, Brahma divided the entire treasury of beauty among them.
Knowing Love’s lord to be bodiless, Rati brought the five arrows to the lotus feet and gave each toenail the sharpness of one.
Through the fortune of this servant-bard, Premsakhi says, these are the ever-fresh toes of Sita’s feet.
Her paired legs are golden pillars; reaching her feet, adornment itself comes to swing.
Premsakhi’s mind becomes the taut rope, while her swanlike gait sends Love swaying.
The companions’ toe-rings sing songs, and Raghunandan’s affection makes every necklace dance.
Full, well-shaped, and smooth, these are the generous knees of Janaki’s body.
Is the line of fine blue body-hair a sapphire garland arranged upon the golden middle of her form?
All the beauty of dark Shyam seems to have gathered and contracted there; seeing it, every hair of the beloved prince rejoices.
Fine yet clearly visible, it delights the eye like a line of dark aquatic growth in fragrant water.
Premsakhi says: I know it as Sita’s row of body-hair, a sovereign treasury of beauty and virtue.
Premsakhi says: from the ocean of beauty, waves of exquisite form have surged upward.
Love’s radiance appears in the three folds, and whoever’s gaze falls upon them becomes absorbed and follows helplessly.
They cannot be fully seen or spoken; they are the resting-place of the beloved’s heart.
These lovely folds are the three graceful lines upon Sita’s waist.
A dark-blue bodice appears exquisitely beautiful upon Kishori Ji’s fair body.
Its lovely gem-studded embroidery shines like stars spread across a black night.
It is fashioned with affection, steeped in love, and filled with concentrated beauty, delighting Premsakhi’s heart.
Over the fresh fruits of her breast, the beloved has cast this dear net to capture the deer of her lover’s eyes.
Sita’s speech is nectar born from the season of love, her lips nectar, her words visibly more nectarean than nectar itself.
Her smile is natural and never proud; her redness does not arise from anger but from the joy residing in a lotus.
Her incomparable sweetness is known to her lover’s mind and eyes, which remain forever drinking it.
Beholding it again and again, Premsakhi sacrifices life itself, and the accumulated sins of countless births are destroyed.