Daily meditation
“All glories to Sri Govinda Lilamrita, the immortal nectar pastimes of Sri Govinda, that defeats the nectar of the demigods, or the desire for liberation, bestows a wonderful sacred thirst whenever it is drunk through words or with the mind, curing the disease of material life and deluding one with loving intoxication, nourishing the heart and the body and giving a high taste to those who always relish this nectar.”
Niśānta-līḷā (3:36 a.m. — 4:24 a.m.)
The sakhīs’ morning services.
Nidrā-devī, seeing that the night was over, awakened Rādhā’s sakhīs, who got up just in time to do their personal services.
The sakhīs opened their sleepy eyes and glanced anxiously in all directions. They feared that maybe they had overslept and missed the time for their duties. When they saw that the two joyful lovers were still resting, however, the sakhīs sat quietly on their beds collecting their thoughts.
One sakhī yawned and teased Her friends,
“O sakhīs! How have you awakened, being so exhausted from your intense pastimes with Krishna?”
The sakhīs then relished the sight of Krishna’s nail marks on their lotus-bud breasts with their bee-like eyes, rolling about from staying up all night.
At dawn, the mañjarīs engaged in their daily duties of making garlands and tāmbūla. They enjoyed smelling the sweet bodily fragrances of Rādhā-Mādhava lying firmly bound by Cupid’s arrows.
One mañjarī approached the sakhīs and spoke excitedly,
“O sakhīs! Put your lotus faces to the lattice windows and glance within the pleasure grove. Just see how deep sleep pleasantly caresses the two lovers, so skillful in the dance of Eros.”
Inside the grove they beheld Rādhā-Mādhava entwined in a deep embrace as They slept. The blue and yellow radiance of Their unadorned bodies caused the jeweled lamps in the cottage to appear like buds of blue lotus and campaka .
One mañjarī said,
“O sakhīs, look! A stationary lightning bolt surrounds a black cloud to shower us with mādhurya-rasa. Servants become happy after satisfying their masters. Today however, the servants have been rewarded even without doing service!”
Elsewhere some mañjarīs prepared garlands, cosmetics and betel nuts. Others put pieces of aguru wood in the incense burners. A gentle spring breeze suddenly appeared to delight the Lord and Lady of the kuñja.
The wind blew softly because it was drowsy having just arisen from sleep. The Malayan breeze, kissing the freshly blooming creepers, spread their sweet scents throughout the forest.
The bumblebees sleeping in the flowers awoke upon smelling the attractive aromas.
Vṛndā-devī, aroused by the buzzing of the bees, realized it was daybreak and glanced anxiously in all directions. She sent her birds to awaken Rādhā-Mādhava .
The birds awaken Rādhā and Krishna
The birds perched on the branches just outside the kuñja. Although eager to sing, they silently waited for Vṛndā’s command. On her signal, they filled the grove with their blissful chirping. A swarm of bees, greedy for honey, entered the kuñja and made a humming sound like Cupid’s auspicious conch. The kuñja was decorated with flowering creepers and a bed made of lotus petals.
A group of female bees, maddened from drinking honey, helped to wake up Govinda by buzzing even louder than the ringing of cymbals suggesting the joy of love. A flock of cuckoos repeatedly sang “kuhū, kuhū” in the highest fifth note resounding like Cupid’s vīṇā. The female cuckoos sat beside their mates in the mango trees cooing with the intoxication of love. They savored the juice of the tender buds and then vibrated sweet low tones like Rati’s vīṇā .
The tiger of Cupid, having devoured the doe of the gopīs’ patience, shyness and virtue, now vented his anger at the wolf of their pride by growling in the guise of the cooing doves. The peacocks cried “kekā, kekā” to awaken Rādhā-Govinda by proclaiming,
“Who (ke) except Krishna can lift the mountain of Rādhā’s pride? And what (kā) other girl except Vṛṣabhānunandini can chain down and control the mad elephant named Krishna?”
The roosters’ crowing of ku-kū-ku-kūū sounded like young brāhmaṇas reciting the Vedas by repeating short, long and very long vowels.
The soft, sweet chirping of the birds roused the Divine Couple from Their slumber, however, each was unaware that the other was awake. Rādhā-Mādhava were afflicted with the thought of breaking Their tight embrace, so They closed Their eyes pretending to sleep .
Śukadeva, an abode of matchless bhagavat-prema, sang the beautiful Bhāgavata verses to glorify Lord Krishna, and to enlighten the people of the world. Vṛndā’s two pet parrots, Dakṣa and Vicakṣaṇa , recited verses to wake up the master of the universe .
Dakṣa said,
“O most learned in all the arts of Cupid! O nectar for the gopīs’ eyes! O mad elephant sporting in the stream of Your beloved’s affection. You inundate the whole world with immense sweetness! O ocean of rasa! It is not improper that You are sleeping now, savoring the bliss of Your lover’s lips. The night, well known as the giver of momentary pleasure, that fulfilled Your desire for love is now ending Your love festival with its departure .”
Vicakṣaṇa said,
“O lord, please wake up and slacken the embrace of Your beloved. Dawn has come, now quickly return to Vraja. You must cleverly conceal Your erotic desires. If You don’t hurry, Your amorous affairs will be discovered and broadcast everywhere. O bliss of the vrajavāsīs! You are the moon rising over the milk ocean of Nanda’s heart! O flower on the holy creeper of the queen of Vraja! Go home now and make Your friends happy! ”
The female parrot named Mañjubhāśiṇī said,
“O friend of Gokula, ocean of rasa! Glory to You! Wake up and rise from Your bed that glistens like the moon. Awaken Your dear most beloved who, exhausted from the passion of love, lies resting on Your shoulder. O lord of Vraja! The swiftly rising sun is by nature very cruel toward the young damsels of Vṛndāvana. Therefore You must leave the banks of the Yamunā and hurry home .”
As two śārī are always present during a dice game, the two śārī birds Śubhā and Sūkṣmadhī are always together during the love affairs of Rādhā and Krishna.
The birds said,
“O delight of Vṛṣabhānu! All glory to You. Your charm and wealth of love astonish all the women in the three worlds .”
“O lotus-faced Rādhā! Though the night has ended, You continue to sleep deeply, exhausted from the hard labor of love. There is no fault in this but please look, O chaste woman. O sakhī, just see how the eastern horizon, like Candrāvalī, has turned red in anger, as if intolerant of Your enjoyment .”
“Intoxicated from savoring the honey sweetness of Krishna’s lotus face, You are sleeping soundly. However, this is not proper during sunrise, so now I am waking You up .”
Though Rādhā and Krishna had awoken, They remained lying on the flower bed in a tight embrace. They were disturbed over the end of night, and did not want to rise from the attractive pleasure bed. Rādhikā lay with Her hips confined by Krishna’s knees, Her breasts upon His chest and Her face caressing His. Rādhā’s arms, wrapped around Krishna’s neck, served as a pillow.
Rādhā, though fully conscious, could not move an inch .
The parrot Dakṣa, an expert in narrating Krishna’s pastimes and the teacher of countless other parrots, entered the flower grove. Spreading his wings in bliss, he said,
“Look, Krishna! The sun has risen. The cakravākī glances toward the reddish eastern sky and then eagerly toward her distant husband .
In fear of the crows, the owls silently enter the hollows of trees. Please immediately give up Your sleep .
“O ocean of good qualities! Beloved of Rādhā! O sun that makes the lotuses of Vraja bloom! O jeweled mountain peak of artistic genius! All glory to You! O master, what are You contemplating as You lie in the kuñja, even though the night has ended? Though You know it is time for Your family to rise, why do You prefer to sleep in the grove?
“The peacocks, aware of the time, have awoken and are now piteously crying “kekā kekā” in separation from their mates! They have come just to wake You up. Would any intelligent person neglect the prescribed time for his duties? ”
The female parrot named Sukṣmadhī wore on her neck like a string of pearls all the knowledge about sevā that she learned from Vṛndā-devī. She felt intoxicated from drinking the liquor of prema. She spoke in order to waken Rādhā .
Sukṣmadhī said,
“O sakhī! Give up Your lethargy, get up and awaken Your lover as well! Immediately leave the grove and return home. Do not create an opportunity for the townspeople to defame You. The wise act when the time is right .
“O moon-faced maiden! All fear has fled from Your heart now that You lie in the embrace of Vrajendranandana. Why do You carelessly remain sound asleep even at the end of night? At least You can move to another place in the kuñja, which resounds with swarms of maddened bees. Are You not even thinking about what Your elders might level against You if they catch You here?
“O Sudati ! A swarm of bees, drunk from sporting in the laps of the white water lilies, move restlessly toward a cluster of blooming lotuses to engage in a love tryst. Because of the time of day the bees have lost interest in the lilies and have become enchanted by the lotus flowers .
“The stars have vanished from the sky, Your necklaces have fallen from Your body and the white flowers have dropped from the śephālīkā tree. Even though all three have lost their ornaments, only You maintain Your most radiant and exquisite beauty. As the pearls from Your broken necklace have dropped on the ground, the stars have disappeared from the sky and now only a few remain. Just see! Arundhatī , alarmed at seeing You still sleeping on Syama’s chest, hides Her face within the constellation of the Sapṭa Rṣīs. ”
Rādhā gave up Her sleep upon hearing the sweet, charming words of the parrots. Shortly later, Krishna also awakened, satisfied with His happy repose .
The pleasure fatigue
Rādhā-Mādhava opened Their eyes simultaneously and glanced playfully at each other. However, the impulse of desire disrupted Their mutual vision and made Them very unhappy .
The Divine Couple’s ankle bells, bangles and other ornaments chimed sweetly and Their limbs shone with attraction. Their faces, surrounded by scattered locks of hair, were illuminated by the splendor of Their necklaces and earrings .
Rādhā-Mādhava sat up on the bed. With Their eyes still closed, they moved Their hands about to find Their clothing which had fallen off during the previous night’s love sports. It seemed as if Brahmā had collected all the beauty and opulence of the three worlds in the bodies of the two lovers. Rādhā-Mādhava, with Their languid limbs, disheveled hair and rolling tired eyes, had to lean against each other’s shoulders to keep from falling over .
Rādhā interlocked Her fingers, closed Her eyes and raised Her delicate arms above Her head while yawning. Rādhā showed some distress upon noticing the nail marks on Her breasts. Rādhā, fearing that Krishna would scratch Her again, blocked His eager hands, saying, “No, no! ”
Rādhā held the corner of Her fine cloth in Her right hand and covered Her lotus face, which was bathed in the light of Her beautiful teeth. Yawning again while raising Her shoulders slightly, Rādhā hummed a sweet melody while snapping the fingers of Her left hand and jingling Her bracelets. Rādhā rubbed Her body and restlessly moved Her shapely hips. Joining Her hands, Rādhā raised them above Her head. In this way, Rādhikā’s lovely face shone like the moon enclosed in a halo .
Śrī Krishna stretched a little before sitting up in bed. Seeing Rādhā listless from fatigue, Krishna lifted Her on His lap. He gazed upon Her sweet beauty with great longing while Rādhikā pretended to sleep. Acyuta smiled softly while drinking the nectar of Rādhā’s beautiful face, blooming like a morning lotus. Rādhikā’s eyes moved restlessly like a pair of khañjana birds . The curling black hair surrounding Her forehead looked like a swarm of bees .
Mukunda’s heart filled with joy upon seeing Rādhā’s brilliant, pearly-white teeth as She yawned. Rādhā stretched Her body by clasping Her fingers together and raising Her lotus-stem arms above Her head .
Rādhā and Krishna both stretched Their limbs to ward off the lethargy of sleep. As They yawned, the splendor of Their teeth made it appear that each was offering a jeweled lamp in ārātrika to the other. Rādhā-Mādhava relished each other’s sweetness with the tongues of Their sleepy side-long glances .
Rādhā-Krishna’s sweet fatigue
Vrajendu felt immense joy beholding His beloved Rādhā resting on His lap in the gentle light of dawn. Rādhā, feigning soft weeping, smiled slightly. Rādhā’s braid was loose, Her garlands crushed and Her jewel necklaces were broken. Rādhikā was externally exhausted but internally elated. She repeatedly opened Her tired rolling eyes to eagerly gaze upon Her lover. Śrī Rādhā, languid from intense amorous pastimes, offered the golden lotus of Her body to Krishna, whose body resembled a dark blue tamāla tree. If a streak of lightning could permanently rest on a dark rain cloud, it could be compared to Rādhā lying in the arms of Śyāma.
Śrī Hari’s handsome face, framed by fickle locks of hair and fragrant as a lotus flower, was beautified with makara earrings, a gentle smile and eyes indolent with pleasure. Lotus-eyed Rādhā became eager to enjoy again upon admiring Śyāma’s limbs decorated with bite marks and smudges of kajjala. Rādhā’s soft smile and Her eyes lowered out of shyness ignited Śyāma’s desire for amorous affairs. Krishna slowly lifted Rādhā’s lowered head with His left hand. Raising Rādhā’s chin with His right hand, Krishna bent His neck and kissed the smiling cheeks of Rādhikā’s lovely lotus face. Rādhā submerged in an ocean of happiness from the touch of Her lover’s lips. Yet with Her eyes half closed and Her delicate hands trembling, Rādhā softly uttered, “No, no!” Rādhā’s contrary mood delighted the onlooking sakhīs .
“Today the incomparable beauty and sweetness of My youth, unrivalled in the three worlds, have attained perfection because they have been blissfully enjoyed by My beloved.”
While Rādhikā thought like this, Krishna consumed all the nectar of Her extraordinary sweetness with His eyes. Rādhā flushed with boundless joy. She then made Krishna’s lotus face the playground of Her enchanting side- long glances.
Rādhā said ,
“O playful one, Your erotic pastimes have caused My clothes and ornaments to fall off and scatter. My sakhīs have not come yet, so why don’t You quickly dress Me as before? Apply Your cleverness in decorating Me. You must beg forgiveness for offending Our cherished deity Anaṅgadeva by taking him from the temple of Our minds for worship and not replacing him. You have not yet removed the fingernail scratches, the signs of Cupid’s worship, from My body. Now please do it by applying musk and kuṅkuma. Then You may reinstall Cupid in his proper place.”
Śrī Krishna, the crest-jewel of relishers, replied,
“O dearest! You have spoken correctly. Cupid is clearly visible on the throne of Your body. Therefore, I will now worship our iṣṭa-deva with cloth, ornaments, perfume, flowers, garlands and sandalwood paste. ”
Rādhā’s talented maidservants eagerly offered Krishna the clothing and ornaments suitable for Cupid’s worship.
Mañjarīs’ service and Krishna’s agitation (Niśānta-līḷā (4:24 a.m.—5:36 a.m.)
Ascertaining that Rādhā and Krishna were awake, the mañjarīs fearlessly opened the door and quietly entered the bed chamber .
The mañjarīs beheld Rādhā-Mādhava wrapped in a deep embrace as They slept. The blue and yellow radiance of Their unadorned bodies caused the jeweled lamps in the cottage to appear like buds of blue lotus and campaka .
The mañjarīs saw the bruises on Rādhā-Mādhava’s lips and the fingernail scratches on Their bodies. Their hair was disheveled, Their clothes had loosened and They appeared drowsy from the labor of love. Their necklaces and flower garlands were broken. Observing the Divine Couple like this filled the mañjarīs’ hearts with delight .
Krishna took a comb from Bhānumatī-mañjarī and very gently combed Rādhikā’s shining hair. He wove a garland of fragrant jasmine flowers into Rādhā’s long hair braid. Next, Krishna used a new brush to expertly paint artistic patterns on Rādhā’s forehead with musk, saffron and sandalwood prepared by Rāgalekhā-mañjarī. Krishna adorned Kiśorī’s ears with beautiful ornaments made by Lavaṅga-mañjarī and anointed Her lotus eyes with fresh kajjala.
Krishna took a brilliant necklace from the hand of Ruci-mañjarī and hung it on Rādhā’s chest.
Rādhā commented proudly,
“You have removed the sandalwood paste and bodice from My breasts. Without replacing them, why have You put on My necklace? Obviously, You do not know the art of dressing.”
Krishna replied,
“O Rādhe! Just watch what I will do! I will paint the most exquisite patterns on Your breasts that will astonish even Viśākhā and Your other sakhīs who are so proud of their artistry.”
Śyāma glanced at Śrī Rūpa-mañjarī, Rati-mañjarī, Līlā-mañjarī and other seva dāsīs and they immediately gave Him the ingredients in their hands. As soon as Krishna started painting Rādhā’s breasts, Cupid pierced Him with five arrows .
Hari’s hands trembled and the lines became crooked. To erase His mistakes, Krishna rubbed His chest against Rādhā’s breasts. In effect, Krishna cleverly lit the fire of Rādhā’s desire in order to burn the kindling of Her forbearance to ashes.
Kāmadeva did not appreciate Krishna’s decorative efforts so he exerted his invincible influence. By rubbing Their bodies together, Kāmadeva happily ornamented the two lovers with artistic designs, erasing some, creating new ones and breaking others to pieces. The mañjarīs, with fully blossomed lotus eyes, fulfilled their long cherished desire to witness the amorous pastimes of the Divine Couple. Satisfied, they all made excuses to leave the kuñja so that Rādhā-Mādhava could enjoy again .
Rādhā-Mādhava, succumbing to the sway of rapture, dispersed a wonderful radiance in all directions by kissing and embracing each other with Their creeper-like arms. They concluded Their divine sports, and slept a little more as Their listless bodies collapsed on the crumpled flower bed. Alas! At dawn, the bed and sleep became depressed over their inevitable separation from Rādhā-Govinda. How could they possibly give Them up? Nevertheless, the parrots and other birds recited poetry to separate the Divine Couple .
Female Parrots speak to Rādhā
“O Rādhe! Have You forgotten all respect and family reputation? You should not be lying here! Stop sleeping, which deprives You of amorous delights and quickly get up. Just see how the night has ended! Please return to Your home. Do not hurt Your parents by staying here. Look! O playful girl, the eastern sky has turned deep crimson in imitation of Your reddish lotus feet.
“The graceful cakravākī quickly reunites with her dear mate after passing a painful night in separation. Though the full moon desired the radiance of Your face, being unsuccessful, it now wants to give up its life. It is plummeting from the peak of the western mountains. Can anyone prevent this tragedy? ”
“O Sumukhī ! Please wake up and open Your lotus eyes to see the effulgent faces of Your sakhīs. Your ornaments fell off during the battle of love. Your hair loosened and Your clothing scattered. Your decorations became smudged or wiped off and Your body was bruised. Your sakhīs have come here to assist You .”
“O Śaśimukhī ! Just look! Here comes that graceful, playful pet doe of Yours named Raṇginī that You fed with Your own hand. Cast Your merciful side-long glance upon her and she will feel satisfied in gaining Your affection.”
“O Krishna-kāntā ! The minds of deer are very pure. The doe, thinking that Your reddish lotus feet are tender new buds, quickly approaches to lick them. She keeps trying, even though Your sakhīs drive her away with their lotus hands.”
“O Śaśimukhī! The doe derived great joy from taking Your remnants and drinking Your caraṇāṁṛta. Now she is grief-stricken and sadly gazes at Your moonlike face because You have not looked at her yet. O Rādhā! Hari is curiously measuring the width of the innocent, love-filled eyes of the doe and comparing them with Yours. To remove any doubt of their similarity, Śyāma uses a string of spotless pearls and says,
“Very good, indeed.’”
The affectionate śārikās tried to awaken Rādhā by speaking many pleasing and meaningful words. Afterwards, the ecstatic male parrots approached the kuñja to offer respects to Śrī Krishna .
The male parrots speak to Krishna
The male parrots, eager to please sleepy Krishna, tried to wake Him by making sweet sounds and speaking many beautiful, cheerful words to satisfy the mind and heart like an ambrosial drink. The parrots, who were learned in the depths of sacred rapture, skilled in using attractive sweet words, absorbed in talks of prema and expert judges of time, chattered attractively to wake up Krishna. Wise men never become bewildered at the time of performing their duties!
“O Sundara ! Mother Yaśodā is free from all anxiety because she thinks that You are peacefully sleeping in Your bedroom at night. However, now that it is time to wake You, her motherly affection will bring her to Your bedside. You are the knower of time, the destroyer of all suffering, the friend of all Vrajavāsīs and the ocean of good qualities. Though the soft play bed in the forest is the very form of bliss, still for Your own good, You must get up and leave it up immediately!”
“Look! A swarm of intoxicated bees have awakened and are now playing in a cluster of lotuses within the flower-strewn forest. Is there anyone who would not be enchanted at such a pleasant time of day? Look! The night lilies’ faces are sad due to separation from their beloved moon and the blue lotuses are smiling brightly on meeting their dear sun. Lovers are separating in one place and meeting in another. Is it not time alone that causes one’s happiness or distress ?
“O fortunate one! Glory to You! I offer my respects to You! Listen! The rooster, seeing You still sleeping, has become disturbed and crows loudly. He is filled with bliss knowing that it is time for his service; a person knowledgeable of time is never bewildered when performing his duties! ”
The roosters woke up, craned their necks, flapped their wings and crowed five or six times. Rādhā felt distressed at their noise. Their crowing had stopped Her from embracing Krishna, so Rādhā angrily cursed them.
“Hey roosters! Quickly go to hell and crow there!”
Rādhā slightly slackened Her embrace of Krishna’s chest while cursing the roosters. The roosters kept quiet for a few minutes, and Rādhā thought that they had suffered the effects of Her curse. Rādhā, disregarding the imminent sunrise, fell asleep again in Krishna’s tight embrace .
The minnow-like eyes of the sakhīs, who would trade millions of their lives for even a particle of the profuse rays of beauty emanating from the joyous young couple, cavorted in the currents of charm and beauty flowing out of the lattice window of the cottage.
Viśākhā said,
“Look Lalitā! Even though Rādhā-Mādhava are niraṁśuka , They are āmśuka . Though They are vihārī , Rādhā-Mādhava look atihārī with the signs of erotic love on Their limbs.
Though Rādhā-Mādhava are an-aṅgada , They are aṅanga-da . Even though They are nir-añjana , They are ni-rañjana . Even though the attraction for each other’s lips has waned , Their messed up bed tells the story of a furious battle of love .”
Lalitā said,
“O sakhīs! Please decide who won last night’s love-battle? I cannot tell because both Krishna’s topknot and Rādhā’s braid loosened in the battle and are now tangled together. Moreover, both have bite marks on Their lips and nail scratches on Their chests.”
Viśākhā said,
“O sakhī! Look! With the kuṅkuma on Her breasts, Rādhā colors Acyuta’s lotus feet with Her heart’s attachment! And Krishna proclaims His love for Rādhikā’s lotus feet with the red lac smeared on His head.”
Unseen by the Divine Couple, the sakhīs quietly described the wonder of Rādhā-Śyāma’s pastimes. They submerged in an ocean of bliss while praising their own good fortune .
The roosters, partridges and other birds continued their loud clamoring. Rādhā woke up, stretched Her limbs and said,
“O birds, please forgive Me and let Me sleep a little longer.”
The geese, ducks, swans, cranes and other water birds joined the doves, parrots, peacocks, cuckoos and other land birds in a sweet harmony of warbling as attractive as the nectar of Krishna’s pastimes .
Rādhā-Govinda awoke at the same time and stretched Their limbs. Rādhā’s extended body looked like a bow of golden campaka flowers and Krishna’s resembled a bow of blue lotuses. Giving up each other’s embrace, Rādhā-Mādhava felt pangs of separation. They tightly embraced again and experienced intense bliss .
The joyful sakhīs, with gentle sweet smiles, pushed each other toward the entrance of the kuñja. They were unhappy over the arrival of dawn. The sakhīs timidly entered the kuñja along with a swarm of humming bees. Rādhā’s pleasure doubled upon seeing the smiling faces and restless eyes of Her sakhīs. Rādhā immediately got up from Her lover’s lap to greet them. In Her rush to stand up, Rādhā had covered Herself with Krishna’s yellow cloth. She looked shyly at the sakhīs and then sat down beside Krishna .
Rādhā-Mādhava smiled to greet Their joyful and affectionate sakhīs. In their association, the bud of Rādhā-Mādhava’s beauty fully blossomed. That rūpa-mañjarī most expertly served the Divine Couple.
Another translation:
The maidservant named Śrī Rūpa-mañjarī became joyful because she is an expert in tastefully dressing and decorating Rādhā-Mādhava .
One mañjarī placed a pillow behind Rādhā-Mādhava, while another covered Their bare bodies with a soft cloth. Another mañjarī gave Rādhā-Mādhava a mildly sweet, herbal wake-up tonic, which made Their eyes open wide and removed Their dizziness .
Another mañjarī moistened a piece of soft, expensive cloth with rose water and cleaned the kajjala, tāmbūla and lac stains on Their bodies. Rādhā-Mādhava became so effulgent that Their faces resembled mirrors reflecting Their forms .
One mañjarī offered Them betel. Another lovingly and gracefully offered maṅgala-ārātrika with a jeweled lamp in such a way, it seemed she was offering her own life airs millions of times to Rādhā and Krishna .
The sakhīs’ joy in seeing Śrī Rādhā and the pleasure bed
The middle of the pleasure bed had kuṅkuma stains from Krishna’s body. The edges of the bed were smeared with red lac from Rādhā’s lotus feet. Here and there were sprinkles of sindhūra, sandalwood and kajjala. The sakhīs understood from the marks on the bed that some very special love sports occurred the night before. They saw the pleasure bed, ornamented with wilted flowers, red stains of betel, eyeliner and patterns of unguents. It was also marked with signs of tight embraces and looked just like their dear sakhī Rādhā, who was adorned with similar signs of Her love play .
Rādhā-Mādhava’s love bed was marked in various places with reddish spots of kuṅkuma and sindhūra, making it appear that drops of blood had fallen from the wounded enemy named separation. In another place a flower garland and a crushed necklace lay like a broken bow and a severed bowstring. The bed was marked here and there with spots of musk and kajjala, scattered about by that mad elephant, the king of amorous pleasures. The battlefield of love became an object of great curiosity to the assembled sakhīs .
Krishna, hoping to see a sweet variety of emotions on Rādhā’s face, winked at the gopīs to draw their attention to His chest.
Krishna said,
“O sakhīs, look here! The star named Rādhā, seeing her lover, the moon, about to depart at dawn, became pained by separation and drew hundreds of moonbeams on the canvas of the sky.”
Second translation:
“Rādhā, feeling distressed over our impending separation, made hundreds of nail-marks on My broad, dark blue chest.”
The sakhīs laughed at Krishna’s play on words. Rādhā’s eyes lowered in embarrassment and Her cheeks quivered slightly. Rādhā cast a crooked glance at Her lover as if to pierce Him. Rādhā’s slightly closed eyes, glistening with erotic bliss, were brimming with tears and reddish with anger. They moved restlessly due to shyness. Rādhā’s eyes blossomed fully when She glimpsed at the lotus face of Her beloved Śyāma. Krishna’s eyes also widened in delight.
Rādhā-Mādhava plunged in the ocean of ecstatic love. The joyous sakhīs, intoxicated from drinking the sweetness of the early morning pastimes, had completely forgotten their assigned tasks. Vṛndā found Rādhā-Govinda submerged in the ocean of sweet pastimes. Their sakhīs were blinded by the madness of prema. Apprehensive of the coming sunrise, Vṛndā hinted a command to one of her sārikās .
The female parrot named Śubhā spoke in a clever way in order to stir Rādhā to wakefulness. She wanted to protect Rādhā from the fear of Her husband and to prevent Her from being ridiculed by the villagers and embarrassed before Her elders.
The parrot said,
“O lotus-eyed friend! Your mother-in- law will soon rise from bed and call into Your bedroom: ‘Rādhe! Your husband and the servants are coming from the cowsheds carrying lots of milk. Quickly rise and perform vastu worship in the house.’ O sakhī! Before Jaṭilā says this, please leave the kuñja and secretly return to Your bedroom.”
The sārikā addressed Krishna,
“O Krishna! The heart of Rādhā’s mother-in-law is filled with doubts and suspicion about Rādhā’s character. Her husband Abhimanyu lives up to his name, which means “always angry,” by speaking roughly and always finding fault. Rādhā’s dull sister-in-law is always grouchy and uselessly defames Her. The night has ended, so why are You not leaving this virtuous girl?”
The parrot’s words acted like the Mandara Mountain to churn the milk ocean of Rādhā’s heart. Rādhā felt disturbed, so Her eyes moved like restless fish. Rādhā, saddened by the thought of leaving Krishna, finally rose from bed. Krishna relished the sight of Rādhā’s frightened, restless eyes and gorgeous face. Śyāma inadvertently picked up Rādhā’s fine blue scarf and quickly rose from the bed. Rādhā- Govinda, their hearts palpitating in fear, held hands and wore each other ’s clothing as they left the kuñja. Krishna held Kiśorī’s right hand in His left hand and His flute in His right. A dark monsoon cloud appeared to be embracing a flash of lightning.
The jubilant sakhīs left the forest cottage carrying various articles, including a golden pitcher, a polished mirror and a fan with a golden handle. One sakhī held a multicolored bowl filled with kuṅkuma and sandalwood. Another grasped a jeweled case filled with betel nuts and someone else clutched a caged parrot. One sakhī smiled slightly as she emerged from the kuñja holding a small, gold inlay ivory sindhūr casket that was shaped like two budding breasts and studded with sapphires.
One sakhī collected all the pearls that had fallen from the necklaces broken by Rādhā-Mādhava’s firm embraces, and happily tied them in the edge of her veil. Rati-mañjarī found an earring that had fallen on the bed during Rādhā-Mādhava’s conjugal skirmishes. She left the kuñja and immediately fixed it on Rādhā’s ear. The sakhī named Rūpa-mañjarī snatched up Rādhā’s bodice from the edge of the bed and privately returned it to Her. Guṇa-mañjarī took the spittoon with Rādhā-Mādhava’s chewed betel nuts and distributed the prasādam to the sakhīs outside the cottage.
Mañjulālī-mañjarī gathered the garlands and sandalwood pulp that had fallen from Rādhā-Mādhava’s bodies and divided it amongst the sakhīs. The sakhīs, seeing Krishna wearing Rādhā’s blue cloth and Rādhā wearing His yellow cloth, covered their mouths with their delicate hands to conceal their laughter. They shared the bliss swelling in their hearts by passing subtle glances to each other to indicate the exchange of clothing.
The mirth of the sakhīs brought the Divine Couple out of Their ever-expanding ocean of ecstasy. Rādhā-Mādhava gazed at each other’s faces with widened eyes and stood motionless like figures drawn in a painting. As one cannot immediately detect milk within a white conchshell, it was almost impossible to see Rādhā’s fine blue cloth on Krishna’s dark body, or Krishna’s yellow cloth against the effulgent golden body of Rādhā.
Lalitā angrily criticized the rising sun for interrupting her drinking of the nectar of Rādhā-Krishna’s sweet pastimes:
“O Rādhe! Just see. Even though the sun was stricken with leprosy and lost his legs for disturbing romantic couples, he continues the heinous act. The sages have correctly said that it is very difficult for a person to give up His nature.”
Vṛṣabhānunandini nodded in approval of Lalitā’s riddle. Rādhā, Her eyes reddened with anger over the interruption of Her amorous affairs, glanced at the crimson morning sky and said in a sweet, gentle voice:
“Even though the sun lost his legs, he returns in a moment to repeat his sinful deed. If Brahmā had given him legs, there would be no night at all.”
Śyāma, inspired by the charm of early morning and elated by the ambrosial words of Rādhikā, forgot about returning home. He spoke to the queen of His heart:
“Look, My dearest! A mistress has turned red with jealousy on seeing Her lover return at dawn bearing signs of conjugal bliss. Similarly, the eastern sky reddens with envy upon seeing her husband, the sun, arrive at dawn with red marks all over his body from touching other women .
“Look! The lotus is speaking to the white lily: ‘O white lily, look! Even though your lover, the moon, the best of brāhmaṇas, is peaceful by nature and destroys the darkness of sins, by contacting Vāruṇī he has fallen from his exalted position.’ The white lily has covered her face in shame within her wilted petals upon hearing the playful talk of the lotus, now joyful in the association of her lover, the sun.
“The black cuckoos watch the moon destroy the darkness and think,
‘Since we are black, perhaps the moon will also destroy us!’
In anxiety, they call out to the new moon, ‘kuhū, kuhū.’ The cuckoos think that when the moonless night comes, Rāhu will cover the moon and protect them.
“As a woman sighs in ecstasy when enjoying her lover, the forest, crazed with joy on meeting its lover the spring season, emits the same sound as the cooing of doves. O Śaśimukhi ! A restless bee, covered with pollen from playing in the lilies, now madly pursues his mate, who is just crawling out of the lotus in which she spent the night.
“The female heron, yearning to meet her lover at daybreak, blissfully kisses a red lotus, which has become doubly red in the rays of dawn. O Kalakaṇṭḥī ! Seeing Us, the swan named Kalasvana has left his mate, who is eager for pleasure, and come to the bank of the Yamunā spreading his wings in joy.
“Look, Padma-mukhi ! The goose named Tuṇḍikerī clutches in her beak the half-eaten lotus stalks given by her husband. While constantly gazing upon Your lotus face, she now comes with her mate, uttering soft, indistinct sounds. The cool breeze from the peaks of the Malaya hills carries the sweet aroma of lotuses as he gently plays over the waters of the Yamunā. He teaches the creepers how to dance, relieves everyone’s fatigue and dries the perspiration from the bodies of lovers .”
Forgetting to go home and Kakkhaṭī’s poetry – Niśānta-līḷā (5:36 a.m.—6:00 a.m.)
Rādhā-Mādhava, wrapped in sweet talk, forgot all about going home. The sakhīs smiled broadly, intoxicated with pleasure. Only Vṛndā-devī worried over the coming daylight .
Vṛṇdā doubted for a moment whether Rādhā-Mādhava’s love sports had finished or not, since the brilliant full moon faces of Rādhā and Her sakhīs had just risen even though the dark night had gone. The Vedas say that as darkness disappears, to that degree light arises. As illumination increases, anxiety and sorrow disappear from the heart. However, for Vṛndā the opposite occured. Such astonishing actions are common in Vraja, which is beyond the scope of the śrutis .
An old female monkey named Kakkhaṭī, who knows when to act, took a signal from Vṛndā and recited poetry while sitting nearby in a tree:
“Daybreak, being praised by virtuous men, comes like a female ascetic wearing red cloth and matted locks (jaṭilā) that appear like rays of light emanating from her head .”
The gopīs’ faces paled immediately on hearing the syllables ja-ṭi-lā . The rising sun of excessive fear and anxiety arose in them to dry up the ocean of their blissful pastimes .
Rādhikā-Krishnacandra, determined fighters in the battle of love, tossed in waves of fear as They cautiously walked along the forest path thinking They may meet Their slanderous elders. In a very solemn mood, They carefully looked here and there with restless side-long glances. No one saw Rādhā-Mādhava walking on the forest path or sneaking into Their homes. Due to the naturally affectionate quality of hlādinī śakti, Rādhā-Mādhava delighted the eyes of the sakhīs. Thus, even the perilous path home, was another pleasure excursion for the Divine Couple .
Rādhā-Govinda, frightened by the mention of Jatīlā’s name, ran down separate paths while holding up Their loosened hair, garlands and clothing. In trepidation, the sakhīs also fled in all directions. Krishna imagined that Candrāvalī and her friends were on His left and the elderly cowherds were in front. He feared that the treacherous Jaṭilā was in hot pursuit. Craning His neck in longing, Śyāma looked to His right searching for His anxious lover. Thus Krishna made His way toward the village .
One sakhī said to another,
“Look, Krishna returns to His home before the Vrajavāsīs awaken at sunrise. He has thrown away the withered flower garland. Krishna’s jeweled necklace broke during the love battle. His lips have blackened from kissing Rādhā’s kajjala adorned eyes and His body displays His lover ’s fingernail marks. Afraid of being seen, Krishna glances here and there with tired eyes as He runs along the path. See how He stealthily slips into His house! ”
Rādhikā, fearing that Jatīlā was approaching from behind, walked quickly and gracefully towards Vraja even though She was burdened by Her heavy breasts and hips and using Her hands to hold up Her loosened hair and dress .
A branchless tree in the distance frightened Rādhā more than seeing a poisonous snake before Her. The cawing of crows scared Rādhā more then the trumpeting of an elephant; the light of day terrified Her more than the dense darkness of night. Today, Rādhā is suffering more from meeting Her lover than from separation .
Śrī Rūpa-mañjarī, desiring to bring Rādhā safely home, placed Her in the chariot of her mind and walked behind Her. Due to fear and her affection for Rādhā, Śrī Rūpa covered Rādhā with the protective screen of her ash-grey eyes darting in all directions. Soldiers walk before the king shooting volleys of arrows to ward off approaching enemies. Similarly, Rati-mañjarī, fearing the approach of some unfavorable persons, accompanied Rādhā, shooting the arrows of her restless glances here and there .
Rādhā, surrounded by Her sakhīs, entered Her house unseen and lay down in bed. Feeling intense suffering in separation from Krishna, Rādhā started crying. Rādhā, in a voice choked with yearning, opened Her heart to Lalitā .
Rādhā’s lamentation and sleeping
Rādhā sighed,
“O Lalitā! You made Me believe that I would meet Krishna and submerge in the nectar ocean of His loving embrace. Enticing Me, You took Me from My house and immediately brought Me back. O sakhī! What fault have I made that has denied Me the ocean of nectar?
“O sakhī! The sun just set in the western sky and now it is ascending the eastern mountain. Was the previous night just an illusion like a flower in the sky? O sakhī! My eyes, ears and tongue burn with the fever of intense longing. But curses on them a hundred times! Today they did not let Me drink a drop of the nectar of Krishna’s sweet form, voice or lips.”
Lalitā replied,
“O Rādhā! Last night, Your union with Krishna made You study the protocols of nirveda . Now, separation from Krishna is making You study the protocols of nirveda . Union with Acyuta made You taste the sweetness of His words, lips and form. But separation tortures You like a deadly poison.”
In the rapture of love, Vṛṣabhānunandini failed to grasp Lalitā’s words. Rādhikā, hoping to see Her cherished lord in a dream, lay down and fell asleep .
A sakhī, who was not present during Rādhā-Mādhava’s waking pastimes, said to another,
“Look sakhī! Rādhikā has returned from the nikuñja and secretly slipped into Her sleeping chamber. The blue cloth on Her head repeatedly slips off and She wearily replaces it. Her clothes and ornaments are disarrayed due to love sports. Rādhā’s tired eyes glance hither and thither while She weakly tries to retie Her loosened braid .”
During every yuga, the Ādi-puruṣa manifests, maintains and annihilates the universes. He then enters His abode and sleeps on the bed of Ananta. At that time, the personified śrutis, who expand the Lord’s pastimes, enter unseen into His transcendental body.
Similarly, after performing His kuñja- līlā, Krishna returned home and lay down in bed. The sakhīs, who expertly nourish Rādhā-Mādhava’s pastimes with their beauty, wit and other good qualities, secretly entered their own houses .
(6:00 a.m.—8:24 a.m.) Prātaḥ-līlā
I worship Gauracandra, the golden moon, lying asleep in His bed at sunrise, His body injured from the previous night’s saṅkīrtana. Mother Śacī entered His sleeping chambers, observed Gaura’s injuries and cried,
“O my son! How has Your body become wounded?”
In great anxiety, mother Śacī repeatedly caressed Gaura’s body to awaken Him and help Him rise from bed.
In the morning, Śrīvāsa Paṇḍita, Murāri Gupta and other devotees came before Gaurāṅga, offered daṇḍavats and asked about His health. Gaurāṇga washed His face with flower-scented water and described the amazing dream He just had. Afterwards, Gaurāṇga took bath and happily ate the mahā- prasādam from the family deity of Narayana. I worship that beautiful Lord Gaurāṅga.
Mūla-sūtra:
I offer respects to Śrī Rādhā! Rādhā was bathed and dressed gorgeously by Her loving sakhīs. Mother Yaśodā called Rādhā to Nandagrāma to cook palatable foods for Gopāla. After Krishna finished His meal, Rādhā and Her sakhīs enjoyed His remnants. I offer respects to Krishna, who got up every morning to milk the cows in the gośāla, returned home to bathe and ate breakfast with His bosom friends .
The mañjarīs’ activities and Rādhā’s abode – Prātaḥ-līlā (6:00 a.m.—6:24 a.m.)
Śrī Rūpa-mañjarī and the other mañjarīs got up, bathed and anointed their bodies with sandalwood and unguents after Rādhā fell asleep in Her in-laws home. The mañjarīs wore Rādhā’s prasādi garlands, clothing and ornaments to enhance their natural beauty. The mañjarīs, who had rejected all personal desires, manifested charming qualities and splendid behavior as they engaged in Rādhā- Govinda’s loving service.
A single ray of brilliance from the tip of their toes could easily defeat the flashing of lightning. Rādhā’s mañjarīs were the epitome of cleverness. Although each mañjarī was qualified to be a group leader , they had no inclination because they were ever immersed in the sweet ocean of Rādhā’s service.
Vṛṣabhānu Mahārāja, out of affection for his daughter Rādhā, had an incomparably beautiful palace built for Her on the northern side of Jaṭilā’s quarters in Yāvaṭ. Rādhā’s palace was full of light and decorated with the finest crafts. The magnificent palace was filled with ornate pillars, terraces, roofs, cornices, courtyards, varieties of rooms, doors and balconies. The unique building, illuminated by jeweled lamps, would astonish the eyes of any beholder.
There was a sapphire spire shining like a rain cloud on top of the palace. It was ornamented with a flock of glistening silver swans. When the peacocks saw the spire they took it as their friend the rain cloud and opened their tail feathers in joy. Looking closer they saw the silver swans, their natural enemies, and quickly closed their tail fans .
Performing services for Rādhā
There were raised platforms for sleeping, eating and sitting at various places in the palace. Rādhā’s mañjarīs cleansed them with water and smeared sandalwood paste and other fragrant unguents on them. The mañjarīs would spread soft deerskins on the dry platforms and happily hang canopies laced with pearls above them.
One maidservant polished a gem-studded golden pot, while another brought water suitable for the season (warm in winter, cool in summer). Another mañjarī placed a bolster on a jeweled bench covered with colorful cloth. One mañjarī, with tinkling bangles, opened a chest to inspect Rādhā’s dress and ornaments that she had cleaned and stored the previous day. She ground camphor, kuṅkuma and sandalwood. One kind-hearted mañjarī designed a crown, bangles, necklaces and a sash out of fresh flowers. Another servant lovingly prepared tasty tāmbūla.
Dawn and arrival of Mukharā
The sounds of cowherds churning milk and brāhmaṇas chanting the Vedas echoed throughout the town. The loud chanting of the brāhmaṇas competed with the cows anxiously calling their calves. In competition, the clamor of the cows and brāhmaṇas rose to higher and higher pitches.
The best of reciters broadcast waves of nectar by singing the glories of Krishna’s pastimes. The warbling of parrots, sparrows and peacocks reached a crescendo of noise. The inhabitants of Vraja gradually woke up and sat on their beds to plan their days. The village women were excited to visit Nanda’s home to see Krishna.
Mukharā, a treasure chest of parental affection, arrived at Rādhā’s home. Beholding the beautiful face of her granddaughter made her life worthwhile. Mukharā entered the house calling out,
“Rādhā! Where are you my dear daughter? ”
Jatīlā, a crafty, suspicious biddy, greeted Mukharā and spoke to her with a desire to increase her son’s prosperity:
“Every day, the learned Paurṇamāsī instructs me, ‘O wise one! To attain progeny, long life, wealth and countless cows for your son Abhimanyu, please have your daughter-in-law Rādhā bathe, dress and ornament Herself so She can do Sūrya-pūjā. Never disobey the order of Yaśodā, the queen of the cowherds. And do not worry about the opinion of the common people.’ Therefore, O respectable Mukharā, please adorn your granddaughter with all auspicious blessings so that my son will gain all prosperity.”
Jaṭilā said to Rādhā,
“O daughter! Quickly rise, perform household worship, take Your bath and collect the items for sun worship.”
Mukharā uttered repeatedly,
“How surprising! The dawn has passed but my granddaughter is still sleeping!”
Mukharā, her heart melting with affection, entered Rādhā’s bedroom and said,
“O lovely child! Please get up now. O innocent one, have You forgotten that today is Sunday? You should bathe, offer arghya to the rising sun and quickly prepare for his worship.”
Viśākhā, who was serving Rādhā in Her bedroom, awoke upon hearing the old woman’s words. Though still drowsy, Viśākhā got out of bed and said,
“O sakhī Rādhā! Quickly rise, quickly rise!”
Rādhā awakens
Rādhā, feeling slightly bewildered and fatigued from Her amorous pastimes, repeatedly tried to rise only to collapse again in slumber. She looked like a royal swan bobbing up and down in a wave- filled lake. Rati-mañjarī, seizing the opportunity for service, lovingly pressed Rādhikā’s lotus feet.
The repeated coaxing of the sakhīs helped Rādhikā rise from Her luxurious bed.
Mukharā felt suspicious upon seeing a yellow cloth covering Rādhā’s body. She said,
“O Viśākhā! Your sakhī is wearing the same bright yellow cloth that I saw Krishna wearing last night! Alas, what madness! What type of behavior is this for a girl from a righteous family?”
Viśākhā, startled by Mukharā’s words, glanced apprehensively at the yellow cloth and gasped,
“Alas! What’s this?”
She quickly said to Mukharā,
“O foolish woman! You have become blind due to old age. Can’t you see? The rays of the rising sun shining through the lattice window upon Rādhā’s golden complexion make Her blue dress appear yellow. Why are you needlessly accusing our innocent Rādhā?”
A moment later, Lalitā and the other sakhīs, weary and stumbling as they walked from their homes, arrived before Rādhikā .
Leave a Reply