Where My Krishna Dwells - Tale 2

In the enchanting Vrindavan forest, where time seemed to dance in tune with the divine love of Lord Shri Krishna and Shri Radha, a magical episode unfolded beneath the ancient branches of a banyan tree.

The sun painted the canvas of the sky with hues of orange and pink as Shri Krishna, the playful deity, decided to surprise his beloved Radha. With mischievous gleam in his eyes, he led her behind the veil of a majestic banyan tree, where he covered her eyes with his celestial Pitambara, creating an air of suspense and anticipation.

As Radha stood in delightful suspense, her senses heightened, Lord Krishna, wearing the halo of love, disappeared briefly behind the Kadam tree. The forest murmured with the secrets of nature, and a gentle breeze whispered the arrival of something extraordinary.

Moments passed, and Radha, unable to contain her curiosity, called out to Krishna, expressing the sweet pain in her eyes. The melodious response from under the Kadam tree assured her that something magical was in the making. With patience and love, she continued to stand there, eyes closed, awaiting the unveiling of Krishna's surprise.

Meanwhile, under the Kadam tree, Krishna worked tirelessly, his hands weaving a gift that would capture Radha’s heart. His dedication was evident in every stroke, every petal carefully placed. Time, however, played a little mischief, causing a slight delay in Krishna's creative endeavor.

With sweet anticipation hanging in the air, Radha's voice echoed once again. Krishna, with a gentle smile, reassured her and requested a bit more patience. Undeterred, Radha waited, her trust in Krishna unwavering.

Finally, the masterpiece was ready, and Krishna approached Radha with the grace of a thousand lotuses. With tender care, he removed the Pitambara from her eyes, revealing the surprise he had crafted. Radha's eyes sparkled with joy as she beheld a magnificent swing adorned with the vibrant colors of love, hanging from the branches of the Kadam tree.

The swing, a creation born from the depths of Krishna's devotion, mesmerized Radha. She embraced it like a cherished memory and, with the innocence of a child, laughed and swayed with uncontainable happiness.

Seated on the swing, Radha urged Krishna to push her gently, and as he did, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the euphoria of their love. The swing, meticulously designed by Krishna, embraced the softness of Radha's feet, creating a symphony with the gentle waves of the nearby Yamuna river.

In the midst of this celestial dance, Radha's eyes caught sight of a white flower nestled within the swing. Intrigued, she inquired about its origin, and Krishna, with a playful twinkle in his eyes, confessed to bringing it from Tretayuga.

The revelation unfolded a tale of love that spanned across ages. Krishna, in his Ramavatar, had harbored the desire to gift Radha a flower swing since their first meeting in the flower gardens of Tretayuga. The tears of love in Krishna's eyes reflected the depth of his emotions as he recounted the longing fulfilled in that magical moment.

Overwhelmed with joy, Radha kissed Krishna's hands, sealing the bond of their eternal love. The two sat together on the flower swing, enveloped in the essence of Vrindavan's beauty, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the divine lovers lost in the melody of their eternal romance.

Christmas – Embracing Unexpected Blessings

As I strolled past a beautifully adorned house just days before Christmas, the tantalizing scent of freshly baked goods enveloped the air. The world was gearing up for the festive season, and I, too, had elaborate plans to make this Christmas unforgettable. Little did I know that God had a different script for me.

My vision included a warm home adorned with festive decorations, delightful meals, shopping sprees, donning new attire, and moments of prayer and reflection. In a surprising turn of events, my world crumbled, and all my meticulously laid plans were cast aside. Betrayal haunted my nights, transforming the sanctuary I once called home into a desolate landscape.

A home derives its essence from its inhabitants, its family. Yet, unbeknownst to me, my man had another home, another family. The realization of this deception left me cold and shattered, seeking solace in the somber corners of my once-beloved room. Tears stained my pillow as I endured sleepless nights, grappling with the overwhelming sense of betrayal.

However, as written in the Bible, "The Lord is my shepherd," I found solace in the assurance that even when we stray, the Shepherd seeks out His lost sheep. Our human nature inclines us to wander, but God's grace beckons us back onto the path of redemption.

Amidst the darkness, Christmas dawned, and God had orchestrated a different plan—one filled with unexpected blessings.

He had sent a special Santa to take care of me and make my Christmas merry. Suddenly, the best plans were set  into motion, and celebrations commenced without giving me a moment to contemplate what was happening. I simply allowed myself to breathe in the positivity that enveloped me and let my heart beat to the rhythm of joy.

December 24, 2023: I awoke to the joyous surprise of my travel blog being published in a prominent newspaper. The day unfolded with serenity as I attended a Sai Puja at a dear friend's house, experiencing divine grace in the midst of positive energy.

The Christmas eve continued with a visit to Palassio Mall for a vibrant Christmas Carnival, where my heart resonated with joy amid the live orchestra and the exuberant crowd. I shopped, danced, and savored a sumptuous dinner.

December 25, 2023: A peaceful night's rest ushered in a bright Christmas morning. I began the day with a pilgrimage to the sacred shrine of Dewa Sharif, after a hiatus of nine years. Live qawalis filled the air with positivity, reminding me of the universal message of love for humanity.

The evening brought more joy through mall hopping and a shopping spree at Fun Mall. The highlight, however, was visiting the Cathedral to bow before the Almighty, expressing gratitude for His unexpected blessings.

As I stood in the beautifully adorned church, memories of morning masses, hymns, and prayers flooded my mind. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I silently prayed for strength to overcome the darkness that had enveloped my life. In the quiet sanctuary of the church, I added a prayer for healing, knowing that the Lord would answer my pleas and deliver me from the pain of betrayal.

In this unexpected Christmas journey, God's plan unfolded, and I embraced the blessings that emerged from the ashes of shattered expectations.

Where My Krishna Dwells - Tale 1

 

In the enchanting realm of Vrindavan Dham, where the divine Leelas of Shri Radha Krishna unfolded, one cannot fathom the ordinary nature of the Ras Vihar, for it is a place where the beloved Parabrahma, the Lord of all three worlds, incarnated in the forms of Shri Maa Lakshmi Ji and Shri Radharani Ji. The very ground of Vrindavan Dham resonates with the purity left by the lotus feet of the Supreme Lord during His divine play.

The captivating beauty of Vrindavan is an extension of Shri Radha Vrindavan itself. It is where Sri Krishna embodies Vrindavan, Sri Vishnu is Vrindavan, Sri Lakshmi is Vrindavan, and every particle is infused with the divine presence of Radha ji and Lord Shri Krishna.

This Golok Dham, manifested on Earth as Vrindavan, spans across 73.8 km, and the present inhabitants are blessed to witness the various divine pastimes etched into the very fabric of man and God.

The genesis of the name "Vrindavan" traces back to Satyayuga, where King Kedar, the virtuous ruler known as the King of the Seven Lights, had a daughter named Vrinda Devi. Engrossed in devotion to Lord Krishna from a young age, Vrinda Devi, despite being eligible for marriage, chose a path beyond worldly life. Her sixty-thousand-year penance was rewarded with Srihari Mat from the venerable Durvasha Muni.

Pleased with her devotion, Lord Shri Krishna appeared before Vrinda Devi, expressing his desire. Overwhelmed with joy, Vrinda Devi vowed to perpetually adore Him and follow His divine names. In response, Lord Krishna bestowed upon her the name "Vrindavan Devi" and proclaimed that, in Kalyug, whenever His devotees chanted His name, they would also remember hers. Thus, Vrindavan Devi became a blessed Gopika, akin to the cherished companion of Shri Radharani in Braj.

In the present day, the temple of Vrinda Devi stands near Nandgaon, a testament to the divine connection between Vrindavan and its namesake.

During the Leelas of Shri Radhakrishna, Vrindavan bloomed like a lotus flower, illuminated not by modern lights but by the celestial glow of nature, akin to a double-sided night of the full moon. The landscape was adorned with myriad gems and stones, resounding with the sweet melody of the flowing Shri Yamuna and the harmonious chirping of beautiful birds.

In this captivating Braj Mandal, situated on the middle lotus, the revered Shri Vrindadevi, from her abode in Golok Dham, considers the picturesque scenes of Kalyug as a divine haven. The enchanting pastimes of Lord Krishna and Shri Radharani, as they grazed the cows, unfolded in Vrindavan, now located just 10 kilometers from Mathura. Even today, the echoes of Radha Krishna's divine play linger, making it a place where one can immerse oneself in the joyous presence of the Supreme Lord and His eternal consort.

His Christmas - My Christmas

 

As the Christmas bells began to jingle, signaling the festive season, the world prepared to celebrate the birth of Christ. It was a time for family and joy—Christmas carols, delectable food, new outfits, the warmth of home and the companionship of loved ones defined the holiday spirit. 

In a twist of fate, I found myself entangled in a consensual affair with a man who brought immense happiness into my life. Despite our share of disagreements, our love blossomed. I welcomed him into my life, recognizing his longing for love and a home. We started as two friends who had lost everything, finding solace and intense love in each other's company. Together, we pledged to build a home, a family, share cuddles, embark on travels, enjoy movies and indulge in sumptuous dinners—those were truly enchanting days.

Our lives were filled with sunshine, laughter, and playful teasing, all within the comforting embrace of each other. However, shadows lingered from his past. I had willingly left behind my comfort zone to create a new life with him, but he remained tethered to his past relationship of two decades. His past love cast a long shadow, a constant presence in his thoughts that often left me feeling insecure and cheated.

Despite my protests, he struggled to fully let go of his past. The fear of him leaving haunted me and unfortunately, it became a reality. Multiple times, under the pretext of various excuses, he would run back to his former life, weaving a web of lies to conceal the truth. Unbeknownst to me, my love for him slowly withered away, not due to a natural death but a brutal murder by the layers of lies, manipulations, and deceit. 

His lies were not malicious; rather, they were attempts to sustain our relationship while unwilling to sever ties with his past. Our secret vows remained hidden and the glow of our love became a well-kept secret. Gradually, our relationship deteriorated, each sentence laced with lies and his eyes betraying me. When the time came for him to make a final choice between me and his past, he chose me and we continued our journey together.

Yet, something was amiss. Despite physically being with me, he had left his heart behind.

The guilt of our affair began to consume me and I felt nauseous and profoundly sad. Consciously, I wrestled with the thought that I had taken someone else's husband. Despite knowing the torment he endured in his previous relationship, his deep-seated love for his wife never waned. He showed me pictures of their beautifully decorated home for Christmas, expressing the pain in his heart.

The revelation came when I overheard him professing his love to his wife and discovered endearing messages exchanged between them. Broken, I confronted him and he responded with endless abuse, attacking my past, health and worthiness of love. I smiled through the pain, realizing I had nothing left to lose.

He stormed out, never to return and I closed the door behind him. Amidst sobs, I thanked God for orchestrating his return to his original home. It was Christmas, a time for family and I was glad he could be with his loved ones again. Christmas is about love, sacrifice and giving gifts. Perhaps the most precious gift I could give him was his family back.

My love for him was like an ocean slowly drowning me and I was clinging to the last piece of driftwood that was my hope.

Those walks in the beautiful lanes lined with eucalyptus trees, those evenings when we sat down to have tea together after retiring from work. Those endless chats, the dreams we shared... How can I forget those?

But how can I even forget how he abused and cursed me when I confronted him? Cursing me never to be a mother, cursing me for my ill health, cursing the nights we spent together... cursing every bit of my existence.

Love is not a constraint; it is about surrender and sacrifice. If Mother Mary could sacrifice her only son for humankind, couldn't I sacrifice my love for his happiness? My Christmas might not be merry and warm anymore, but I found solace in knowing that his would be and for that, I am grateful.

Indeed, gifts of time and love are the essential ingredients for a truly merry Christmas.

Lonely Winter Nights

 

As the mercury plummeted to eight degrees last night, memories of my arrival in Lucknow a decade ago flooded back. It was the exact same time of the year. Career aspirations had drawn me to this city, but I was blissfully unaware of its harsh winter climate.

Financial constraints prevented me from acquiring warm bedding to endure the severe cold. Armed only with a thin blanket from home, my attempts to sleep at nights were futile. Midnight brought shivers, and I would awaken, trembling, yearning for the comforting warmth of home. Tears would stream down my face as I longed for someone to share the chill with, someone to cuddle and nestle with on cold winter nights. Yet, it seemed that fate had its own plans for each of us. The dream of finding true love to embrace on such wintry nights remained unfulfilled.

Fast forward to yesterday night, and the chill was just as intense as it was a decade ago. I Found myself once again with only a thin blanket for solace. A profound sense of loneliness crept over me, and I yearned for someone to call my own. Someone with whom I could share warmth and comfort. However, it appeared that God had different plans for me. This chapter of my quest for love and companionship on a cold winter night remains a poignant, unrealized dream.

Even now, a warm quilt eluded me. It wasn't a matter of affordability now, but rather the absence of a home. I currently reside in a temporary accommodation at a temple's ashram, making do with whatever provisions are available. With both body and heart ailing, I tried to find solace in sleep, wrapped in my thin blanket as the temperature dipped to seven or eight degrees Celsius. I whispered a silent prayer to the Lord, "O Lord, I am cold and shivering. Please, lull me to sleep." I drifted into slumber without realizing when it happened.

The following morning, as if by magic, a knock sounded at my door. To my surprise, a man stood there with a thick blanket and a room heater. He explained that they were sent to me to ensure my comfort amidst the falling temperatures. Overwhelmed, tears welled up in my eyes as I expressed my gratitude to the divine.

 Although the room still feels lonely, at least it is warm now.

Our Daughters

In this unfamiliar land, life takes on a different hue, far removed from the freedom and openness of our childhood home. Raised as free spirits, my sisters and I were encouraged to pursue art, music, and passions that brought us joy, unencumbered by blind customs and superstitions.

Yet, here, existence is governed by stringent rules. "If you don't cook, you won't get any food," echoes as an unyielding decree. Arbitrary guidelines dictate the colors one must wear on specific days, threatening ill luck and a doomed future for non-compliance.

The pace of life is stifled by the weight of customs. Even as a high-ranking official, returning home tired and late demands immediate attention to familial duties, or risk being cursed and denied sustenance.

In this peculiar society, daughters' parents are expected to bow low, as if their crime was birthing daughters. Gifts flow one way, from the daughter's family to the son's, yet reciprocity is a distant notion. A daughter, once cherished, becomes the target of relentless torment upon marriage, suffering for every aspect of her life, even the love of her husband.

A food enthusiast by nature, I find myself relegated to mere leftovers, with no expectation of fresh meals. Falling ill elicits blame instead of concern, and seeking assistance is met with reluctance, as a wife's role is confined to servitude.

This land, with its peculiar practices, manipulates the names of deities to instill fear and enforce detrimental customs. Despite gaining independence from British rule, we remain enslaved by our own misdeeds, and our daughters find their freedom curtailed, treated as inferiors in their in-laws' homes.

As we annually celebrate Dussehra, symbolizing the triumph of good over evil, the persistent darkness within us remains unvanquished. In a country where goddesses are revered, daughters-in-law, who sacrifice everything for their husband's family, endure perpetual torment.

I endure hunger, listening to the curses heaped upon my parents for failing to send gifts to my in-laws. Yet, in the tears that go unnoticed, I find solace, believing that one day, liberation will come for all who suffer silently.

“yada yada hi dharmasya
glanir bhavati bharata
abhyutthanam adharmasya
tadatmanam srjamy aham

Paritranay sadhunam vinashay ch dushkritam,
Dharm sansthapnarthay  sambhmami yuge yuge”

Whenever there is a decline in Dharma and increase of adharma, the Almighty will manifest Himself.

For the protection of the pious, the destruction of the evil-doers, and establishment of virtue.

The Wife of a Warrior

I wait for you as the sun descends,
I wait for you till morning mends.
Through changing seasons, my heart's refrain,
Alone I wait, amidst joy and pain.

I know your purpose, the task you bear,
To earn our keep, you toil and care.
In the furnace of solitude, I burn,
For your return, my love, I yearn.

Your smiles and hugs, my guiding light,
Illuminate my world, banish the night.
Without you near, days lose their spark,
In the depths of longing, I embark.

To breathe, to live, a daily strife,
An endless wait, a challenging life.
Yet, you venture forth to earn our bread,
In solitude's fire, my soul is spread.

You fight for us, a noble quest,
Struggling on, doing your best.
While I spend my nights in quiet despair,
Like leaves falling in autumn air.

Come back to me, my heart implores,
Reunite with love, that sweet discourse.
The world is barren without your grace,
Yearns for the warmth of your embrace.

You're called to duty, to earn and strive,
To ensure our future, in which we'll thrive.
Enough of distance, enough of pain,
Come back, my love, let joy regain.

Together, we'll sip tea in evening's glow,
Watch the sun set, its golden show.
In your arms, my sanctuary found,
Worldly treasures, we'll leave unbound.

 The lush green field echoes my plea,
The dove in flight, a symphony.
Stars in the sky, a chorus above,
All sing, "Come back to the one you love."

My Journey

I walked with you past the beds of roses,
Hand in hand, where love composes.
You vowed to stay, my soul's one light,
A promise eternal, through day and night.

We sang, we laughed, life brimmed with bliss,
Every moment sealed with a tender kiss.
Yet shadows crept where dreams once lay,
And joy, like fleeting dusk, slipped away.

I search, I ache, for answers untold,
The pain lingers, the nights grow cold.
I cry, I crumble, bound to the past,
In chains of memories that hold me fast.

I was a girl, my heart aglow,
With dreams of love's unending flow.
But to you, I was a fleeting desire,
A vessel to stoke your selfish fire.

Daughters are burdens, our culture says,
Our worth weighed down in dowry's haze.
From brothel whispers to marriage vows,
Society decrees, and daughters bow.

When we dated, you spoke so true,
“No dowry matters, I love only you.”
But promises fade when greed takes hold,
And love is bartered for glittering gold.

“You and I are a perfect pair,”
You whispered sweetly, beyond compare.
But at your home, I was cast to toil,
A life of servitude, dreams to spoil.

From dawn to dusk, I bore the strain,
Two lives to lead, yet nothing to gain.
Your love turned cold, your words grew few,
The woman you cherished, forgotten too.

Festivals come with joy for some,
For me, they’re shadows where demands come from.
My parents, bound by tradition’s chain,
Gave till their tears could hide the pain.

Spring once sang with fragrant air,
Now it whispers of my despair.
Buds bloom, leaves fall, the cycle turns,
Yet in my heart, a sorrow burns.

Remember the night of roses and stars?
The moonlit glow erased all scars.
Rippling waters bore our vow,
A love so pure—what happened now?

Had you loved me for who I am,
Not as a pawn in society's sham,
Had you seen the wounds I tried to hide,
Perhaps our story wouldn’t have died.

“Marriages are made in heaven,” they say,
Yet heaven seems so far away.
When love is lost to greed’s cruel hold,
Even beauty withers, even hearts grow cold.

To you, my husband, I gave my all,
Yet you let my joy and spirit fall.
Was I to be a servant, meek and mild?
A shadow of love, neither wife nor child?

My mornings, my nights, my soul were yours,
Yet love shut its unforgiving doors.
I was plain, I was simple, my love was true,
But none of it mattered—not to you.

To every daughter, every woman who dreams,
May love be pure, not torn at the seams.
May hearts be free from chains of greed,
And life be nourished by love’s true seed.

To you, my Man

It was just an ordinary day,
But you turned it into magic in your way.
Days, months and years have flown,
Yet that moment remains the most beautiful I've known.

The evening stars whispered their light,
A melody lingered, soft and bright.
You tried your best to win my heart,
For in love’s game, you played your part.

Deep inside, I felt the stir,
A quiet song, a gentle whisper.
But words eluded, I couldn't say,
Until your arms took me away.

You held me close, time stood still,
The world vanished, bent to your will.
The moonlight danced upon the stream,
As we became one, within a dream.

I loved you, and you loved me,
A fate entwined, a destiny.
Your love, a warmth that made me whole,
The sweetest song that touched my soul.

"Thank you" feels too small a phrase,
To honor the love you give and raise.
My man, my friend, my guide you are,
My perfect match, my brightest star.

To you, I give all of me,
A heart that's yours for eternity.
No one else was meant to be,
For me, there’s only you, endlessly.

 

On The Road To Paradise

चारों ओर बिछी हुई बर्फ की सफेद चादर, देवदार तथा चीड़ के पेड़ों से गिरते बर्फ के टुकड़े सच में यहाँ आने वालों को नई दुनिया का आभास देते हैं। जिधर नजर दौड़ाएँ, बस बर्फ ही बर्फ दिखती है और उस पर दिखते हैं बर्फ के खेलों का आनंद उठाते हुए लोग जो देश के विभिन्न भागों से आते हैं।हर शख्स कह उठता है : 'अगर धरती पर कहीं स्वर्ग है तो यहीं है, यहीं है, यहीं है।'

अब जबकि वादी बर्फ की चादर ओढ़ चुकी है। चिनार के पेड़ सुर्ख हो चुके हैं। पहाड़ों पर शीन की चमक से लगता है जैसे चाँदी का वर्क डाल दिया गया हो। वादी के इसी नजारे को तो जन्नत कहते हैं और जन्नत का शौक रखने वालों के लिए यही माकूल समय होता है सैर करने का।

राज्य में यूँ तो कई पर्यटन स्थल हैं जहाँ जाने की चाहत हर आने वाले पर्यटक की होती है पर गुलमर्ग, सोनमर्ग, पहलगाम जाए बिना शायद ही कोई रह पाता हो।

सबसे पहले बात करते हैं गुलमर्ग की। यह कश्मीर संभाग के बारामूला जिले में स्थित है। यह श्रीनगर से 57 किलोमीटर की दूरी पर है। गुलमर्ग में स्कीइंग, गोल्फ कोर्स, विश्व की सबसे ऊँची केबल कार है।

हमने इससे पहले सपने में भी इतनी खूबसूरत जगह नहीं देखी थी । ऐसा लगk  हम किसी और दुनिया में आ गए हैं।

पहलगाम को बॉलीवुड के कारण पहचान मिली है क्योंकि इसके आसपास स्थित अरू वैली तथा बेताव वैली में कई फिल्मों की शूटिंग हो चुकी है और अमरनाथ की यात्रा का परंपरागत रास्ता भी यहीं से है। लिद्दर नदी के दोनों ओर बसे पहलगाम की सुंदरता अपनी मिसाल आप है। यहाँ पर घुड़सवारी, ट्रैकिंग, गोल्फ, फिशिंग आदि की पूरी सुविधा है। 

कहते हैं पहाड़ों वाली माता वैष्णो देवी सबकी मुरादें पूरी करती हैं। उसके दरबार में जो कोई सच्चे दिल से जाता है, उसकी हर मुराद पूरी होती है। ऐसा ही सच्चा दरबार है- माता वैष्णो देवी का।

 

माता का बुलावा आने पर भक्त किसी न किसी बहाने से दरबार पहुँच जाता है। हसीन वादियों में त्रिकूट पर्वत पर गुफा में विराजित माता वैष्णो देवी का स्थान हिंदुओं का एक प्रमुख तीर्थ स्थल है, जहाँ दूर-दूर से लाखों श्रद्धालु माँ के दर्शन के लिए आते हैं।

माँ वैष्णो देवी यात्रा की शुरुआत कटरा से होती है। अधिकांश यात्री यहाँ विश्राम करके अपनी यात्रा की शुरुआत करते हैं। माँ के दर्शन के लिए रातभर यात्रियों की चढ़ाई का सिलसिला चलता रहता है। कटरा से ही माता के दर्शन के लिए नि:शुल्क 'यात्रा पर्ची' मिलती है।

पूरी यात्रा में स्थान-स्थान पर जलपान व भोजन की व्यवस्था है। इस कठिन चढ़ाई में आप थोड़ा विश्राम कर चाय, कॉफी पीकर फिर से उसी जोश से अपनी यात्रा प्रारंभ कर सकते हैं।

Our Travelogue published in Navbharat Times - 05.04.2016