Krishna by Ramesh Menon

Author:Ramesh Menon [Menon, Ramesh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788129121783
Publisher: Rupa & Co
Published: 2010-04-30T04:00:00+00:00

Prakriti

Krishna goes back to Mathura; but Jarasandha does not come immediately. Krishna sends his cousin Uddhava with a message to Nanda and Yasodha, the gopis and Radha. He sends his love, but says he himself cannot go yet to see them because of the Magadhan threat.

And one night, when the skies open above the city, he remembers another unredeemed promise made on a street-corner.

Late that night, above the lash of the rain, there is an urgent knocking at Kubja’s door. Her mouth falls open when she unlocks it and finds him on her step, shivering, drenched in the storm.

He says laconically, “I hope you were serious when you invited me to your home. Because I have accepted your invitation.”

She cannot speak, but nods her head, her eyes full of incredulous joy. She stands aside for him to come in.

Her pastel walls bear explicit paintings from the Kamashastras; seductive incenses hang in the air, and other scents: sensuous musks. Garlands are strewn everywhere; Kubja runs a house of pleasure. Her girls stand smiling behind curtains of tinkling beads.

At her invitation, he sits down with a sigh.

“We have only a short time,” he tells her quietly, thinking he will faint from the other storm raging inside him if he doesn’t take her in his arms. “Why don’t you send your girls away?”

This she does, though he can see she is afraid of him, or of what she feels for him, now they are alone together. This is no street-corner.

Kubja brings him food. She brings him strong wine that calms him a little, and he stops shivering. She goes in to bathe, embellish herself, make herself perfect for him. She comes back, breathtaking, and he draws her to him.

Three nights he stays in Kubja’s house, and he redeems every moment of her years of being deformed. But then, the world calls him back. He is rested by her, soothed in her arms, the womanly scents of her lush body, her fine skin. He is calmed by her wild love-making, stilled in her husky cries.

He goes back to the battleground of politics: the grim realities of evil and tyranny, war and killing. His destiny.

As he leaves her house, Kubja says, “Visit me again, Krishna. I will never take another lover. And if I must be crooked in a hundred lives for you to spend another night with me, so be it. Don’t forget me, Krishna, I will wait for you.”

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