Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2211663-Krishna---the-magic-of-love
Rated: E · Article · Fantasy · #2211663
He is the God and also charming, lovely, mighty, majestic and playful. Here is he, krishn.
It was a glowing night under the moonlight. Nearby the Yamuna lake, few gopikas giggled and the maang tikka in their forehead that came from their veil hymned. It took my instant attention. I sensed that they anxiously waited for someone. I went near them and before I could ask them anything we heard the subtle sound of someone walking. They just turned to each other and shouted that he is coming.
I looked at them barely and one of them lifted her veil and told me, "he, his feet are the surface of lotus. Soft and feeble. The golden anklet he wore jingles when he makes his steps cross and walks slowly towards us. You know sometimes I really feel how would someone look at him in his eyes when you can't even take yours off from admiring the way he walks? "

I smiled at her and then the other one grabbed me towards her and told, "he loves the yellow. His silky pyjama with the green border in his hips where the thin golden griddle hung low and loose, the three little silver pebbles from it made a rhythmic sound when he walks gracefully. And this is not less smoothing than the music which he plays his flute. " she gazed.

"Oh come on! have you seen him holding the flute in his left hand? The red silky grand shawl he wore in his right shoulder that comes from his behind and flows to his left hand like Yamuna river itself. And the silver and Golden bracelets he wore in both hands big and strong meant for the men but his palm, like the, just blossomed rose that is soft as ours and the long fingers that are decorated by those ruby rings and his right palm is always held towards us to embrace in love and in the left palm had the special flute which he playfully swift between his fingers, aw! Gopala and his grace! " she sighed.

I'm already eager to know more about him and so I asked them to tell more. They felt shy and that seemed to be new.

"I feel jealous " one started. I listened carefully. "I feel really jealous of those necklaces he wears. I mean it is always there in his chest, it never had that compulsion to stay away from him. It makes him look even more majestic. He is that deserved, our Dwarkadeesh... She smiled at herself. Look at his simplicity, after being this grand and majestic still he proudly wears the simple flower garland we offer. This depicts his deep and true love for us. He always tells us that the things we offer him with love adore him more than these grand props. "She smiled.

I almost had tears in my eyes. And to our surprise the fragrance of all the flowers in the universe with the scent of heavenly rivers and sand made our eyes set off in gaze. Gopikas ran leaving their veil off, its not just their veils but also their sense of existence that they left behind. They surrounded him and laughed happily. I could clearly say that this is the finest and true happiness.

And to my awe, I saw him. Yes. Dark as the night and as glowing as the sun. His face is as lovely as the moon that shined above him. His large eyes that coated with the red underliner that imparted immense compassion he had. His arched black eyebrows that could arrest anyone's attention. The wide smile he had in his soft pulpy lower lip instantly wiped off all the sadness and the big purple earring that swung along his neck just added another beauty to his small ears. His curly dark hair is as dense as the tropical forest that came till his neck and rested on his shoulder as we all do in him. His sharp nose and forehead made me even more restless and the flora turban that he wore embedded by the colourful pebbles and a couple of peacock feathers breezed along his right side of the head, perfectly told that it is my krishn or...our krishn? I looked at all those gopika losing themselves in his beauty. How would I blame them? He is, in fact, this Charming. He is not just the king of Dwarka but also the king of love and purest hearts. My normal body couldn't endure his beauty and I slipped down, but he gently held by back by holding my hand. I saw how he fitted his flute in his waist pouch in his pyjama while holding me. He then slowly embraced me to himself and all the time his charming smile didn't even dim. I was clinging to him and could feel that my body found shelter in all the fragrance of him and my eyes got arrested in his. He softly blew the hair near my eyes and smiled at me, nodding his head cutely to ask whether I'm fine. I couldn't react. I smiled and rested my head in his chest and closed my eyes. I firmly knew that my soul surrendered and sufficed in my Manmohan for eternal.
© Copyright 2020 Krishnavii (aksharaa at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2211663-Krishna---the-magic-of-love