Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

Every heart held one unbroken desire: “We shall speak and laugh in Rama’s company.”
When anyone’s love for another is steadfast, no delay remains in their meeting.
All the women heard the news that the four brothers had come to Siddhi’s house.
They hurried out in delight, while Siddhi received the guests respectfully and concealed them.
They began to gaze upon Raghubar’s form; tears of love flowed from their eyes, and they were immersed in joy.
One contemplated his lovely lower legs; another rejoiced to see the little bells at his waist.
One gazed upon his navel, breast, and arms, and upon the splendid robe and sash he wore.
His beautiful crimson lips seemed covered by the radiance of the newly risen sun.
It was as though Love had drawn a sword from its sheath and set the polished blade upright.
His chin was charming and his cheeks exceedingly lovely; another woman beheld the snare of beauty formed by his nose.
Another watched the splendour of those eyes whose very sight throws Love’s own mind into agitation.
Nectar, poison, and intoxicating wine were mingled there—dark, white, and charmingly red.
In whatever direction Rama turned his eyes, women fell bowing there, dying and returning to life.
His eyebrows seemed to be Love’s bow, and his sidelong glances a dense flight of sharp arrows.
They struck the young women’s hearts and made wounds whose pain was almost impossible to bear.

One contemplated the beauty of his forehead and its enchanting tilaka;
Another beheld the curls beside his ears and the earrings filled with radiance.
Whichever woman the elegant prince Sri Raghunandan looked toward
Lost all awareness of household and family, like an elephant blinded by rut.
“O Rama, crown jewel of rasikas, you awaken an intense and ever-new desire for love;
As each woman’s heart is coloured, so does her longing remain fixed upon that particular delight.
Your form is like water and all our minds are fish within it.
How could we live in the terrible anguish of separation?” said one supremely clever woman.
“When Brahma fashioned you, he must have thought within himself:
‘When he goes to his father-in-law’s house, he will slay Mithila’s women with assaults of love.’
Women are held inviolable in every way, O prince,
Yet you paid no heed to that rule and took away the very essence of delight from our minds.
You shot us with speech-arrows steeped in poison, beloved, after bending the bow of your brow.
The world’s conventions, the boundaries of family, and every restraint—can any of these now remain intact?
Once the mind has accepted and become bound in love, that love cannot be released, O Bearer of the Śārṅga bow.
A knot once drawn fast will not come undone; life may leave the body instead.
In just this way, love can never be abandoned, even when everything one possesses is lost.”