“This is the best day of my life,” Radha sighed, smiling
happily. There were flowers draped all
over her hair and body, and in her red and gold dress, she looked as radiant as
the sun.
He smiled tightly. If only you knew what I did.
Closing his eyes, he saw
what would happen, followed the same thread he had so many times, and watched
her as she grew old.
He watched as she waited and pined and remained loyal to
only him.
Watched as she sat and prayed.
And wished for him to come back.
But he never did.
And that’s how she died, waiting and waiting for a love that
would never return.
He hated watching her future.
“Krishna?” she asked, shyly, tapping his shoulder, jolting
his attention back to the present.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he murmured.
“I’m glad you’re happy, that’s all.”
It was true; he’d worked so hard to make this day perfect for her. He’d arranged for the weather to be breezy
and warm, begged the flowers to bloom early, coaxed the cows into behaving on
the field, and persuaded all of the gopis to come down to the meadow.
Now, in this gorgeous day, she threw her head back and
laughed, full of joy and sparkle and hope, and Krishna fixed the memory in his
heart. He never wanted to forget this
day.
“Play the flute!” she said.
“I want to dance!”
And dance she did, as he wove golden melodies and every note
glittered and twirled with her. Nobody
could take their eyes off her, least of all Krishna. He savored every spin and every step.
The future danced with her in Krishna’s eyes, and he saw the armies clashing, the spears
twirling with her arms, the shields glinting like her bangles, the screams
mixed with his flute.
He saw the destruction of the warriors in the soft grass and
fragrant flowers and saw the blood splashed on the mountainside.
He saw a rain of arrows perfectly placed, a figure wheeling
a chariot, the flash of a silver sword, and the savage blow of a mace.
He saw kings and princes humbling themselves before him,
begging for his help.
He saw his future queens laughing and talking before him,
each gazing at him adoringly.
He saw the sage before him, admonishing him, reminding him
of his duty.
“You are the savior of
Dharma! You know this is your destiny!”
Yes, he wanted to yell, yes, but I hadn’t met her yet.
He saw himself leaving the next day, shifting the universe
and going down the right path.
But he also saw the other path, the one where he stayed,
where he refused his destiny, and he saw their short but happy lives, saw a
beautiful son and a wonderful daughter.
He saw all this and more, the entire universe, all pasts,
presents, and futures, in his eyes, but most of all he saw her lonely figure
waiting for him through eternity.
Because he could never pick the other path.
“Dance with me?” she asked, holding her hand out to
him. Her flushed face looked like heaven
and he knew that he would come back to this moment every day for the rest of
his life.
Tomorrow I will be
gone, he thought, and he held her hand for the last time.
Radha and Krishna. Web Source.
Author's Note: Radha and Krishna's love story is so sad to me because they love each other so much, but they can never be together. They lived in the same village together as children, but Krishna was actually divine and related to a princess while Radha was merely the daughter of a villager. It was impossible for their destinies to be together. Radha's devotion touched me especially because she is willing to do so much for Krishna, but he can't be with her because his destiny is with the Pandavas. I wanted to express how hard of a choice it was for him to give her up, and how what he knows of his destiny moves him and influences his decisions.
Bibliography: Epified Krishna. Web Source.
