Srikrishna- the Lord of the Universe

by Shivaji Sawant

  Ten veteran Yadavas were going to bear the onus of the ministry of Dwaraka – the kingdom of millions of Yadavas. One of them was Uddhava’s aged, experienced, composed, loving father Devabhaga. Veterans Devashravasa and Vikadru were going to bring in their diplomatic expertise. Hardika’s son, accomplished charioteer Kritavarma also known as Hardikya was there. Aahuka, Satyaka, valiant Satrajita and Satyavrata were also part of the ministry. Then there was Chitraka, the aged and expert father of minister Vipruthu, along with Akrura.

  That evening I came to the ocean beach through the western gate ‘Aindra’, along with Uddhava. Daruka stayed behind with the chariot. There was an array of reddish pink clouds touching the ocean at the horizon. I was captivated and kept staring at them. Uddhava asked me, “What are you looking at in the colourful sky dada?” I looked at him smiling and answered, “The sky is of your complexion today...”

  He was no less; and always loved to speak enigmatically to me. He exclaimed, “Crazy people like me are always eager to look at the perpetual azure behind such colourful clouds.”

  I realized what he meant and wanted to keep him guessing. I called for the fisherman chief in front of us. He was engrossed in unloading the cane baskets full of fish that he had just caught from the sea. He humbly came forward with his palms joined and said, “Your command, sire?” I asked him smiling, “Can a few of you go back in the sea with your boats? Can you dive in and search for the shells with pearls in them and gather them on the shore for us?”

  “As you wish Maharaja.” He agreed willingly and gave no excuse. By this time other fishermen had gathered around them; they were also ready to join him. About ten-fifteen boats entered the ocean again.

  That group of daring Yadavas collected plenty of shells, and after cleaning them, filled them in cane baskets and lined them up in front of me. I instructed them to dispatch those to the royal palace and returned with Uddhava.

  On our way back Uddhava asked me as expected, “Dada, Vasudevababa’s coronation today was an extraordinary event. Everything went smoothly. Nothing bothered anybody. I am the only one to ask you, when are you going to fill the vacant seat on your left? Who is going to be our not yet seen, lucky, virtuous vahini?”

  Soon the Yadava kingdom in golden Dwaraka settled into a routine. Warriors, attendants, artisans and civilians started commuting easily between both islands. The sounds of tolling of temple bells began blending with the ocean sounds. Most of my stay was in my residence neighbouring the royal assembly hall. I began living in the resting chamber above the golden staircase. Uddhava used to attend to my needs. One day he and the minister presented a middle-aged, lean, and bearded Brahmin in my resting chamber. It was clearly visible that the Brahmin had made a long and arduous journey. His originally neat clothes were now torn at places and soiled. His fair complexion was tanned due to the journey on foot in scorching sun. As he approached me, he instantly prostrated in front of me. Holding his shoulders, I pulled him up and comforted him. He handed me a soft, silk pouch that he had carried carefully in the shawl on his shoulder and said briefly, “Maharaja Srikrishnadeva, it is only in your hands now, to save the precious life of our princess. Her father and brother have arranged for her wedding against her wish. It will take place very soon. You should immediately leave with your army for our city Kundinpura in Vidarbha.”

  Kundinpura! The moment I heard that name many white swans of reminiscence fluttered in the sky of my heart. The image of Rukmini floated in front of my eyes – the one whom I had never seen before, the daughter of King Bhishmaka and Maharani Shuddhamati. Pages of an emotional epic that could not be put in words, instantly fluttered in front of my eyes. The name of the city Kundinpura and the name of Princess Rukmini were blended in that flicker. Hearing these two names the deeply rooted divine mantras of the Sudarshan chakra spontaneously resonated in my mind.

  “Your name?” I asked the humble servant.

  “I am a Brahmin; my name is Sushil. I am the priest for the daily religious rites performed by Vidarbha princess Rukminidevi.” He answered.

  I seated him on a chair. A Yadava attendant offered him fruits and a glass of milk. The courteous envoy was reluctant to eat anything in my presence. Patting on his shoulders I comforted him again. He then finished the fruits and milk. He looked quite fresh now. I collected all precise details about the princess’ wedding. I instructed the minister to take care of him and to arrange for the Brahmin to rest.

  As Jarasandha had been unable so far to defeat the Yadavas, dada and me on the battlefield, he had conspired again to fulfil his devious motive. Inviting Bhishmaka’s son Rukmi from Kundinpura to the Magadha capital Girivraja, he had honoured Rukmi in a royal assembly by offering him a gold-hilted sword, a large shield and silken royal vestments.

  Rukmi! Ruddy complexioned like our Uddhava. He was impatient and quick-tempered like Balaramadada and Satyaki, and also valiant like them. He was good-looking like his sister. As his father Bhishmaka, also known as Hiranyaromana, was getting old, the eldest son Rukmi was running the kingdom.

  Jarasandha was trying to corner me by forming an alliance with Rukmi. He had sent Rukmi to Shuktimati, the royal capital of my paternal cousin Shishupala. Rukmi had proposed that Shishupala should wed his sister Rukmini, and Shishupala had eagerly accepted it. Both of them had persuaded King Bhishmaka to fix a date for the wedding. Magadha emperor Jarasandha had astutely designed the entire plot from his capital Girivraja. He had an axe to grind. So, he wanted to pull Bhishmaka and his sons on his side by keeping them under obligation using Shishupala as bait. They did not take into account Rukmini’s wish or choice at all; for she was merely a woman to them.

  I began reading the letter written on birch parchment delivered by Sushil. It was not merely an epistle, but the ultimate lamentation of a sensitive and effervescent Kshatriya lady who had the earnest wish to get married to me without even seeing me. She had openly expressed her emotions in her own handwriting using a peacock feather,

  “Oh Srikrishna, the most enchanting one of the three worlds, those who perceive your superiority, are relieved of all their grief instantaneously. Those who see you with their own eyes and place you in their hearts are blessed for their lives. Ever since I heard your acclaim I have been yearning for you unabashedly. I simply cannot help it. I am penning this epistle, surrendering my modesty at your feet.”

  The very commencement of her epistle gripped my mind in an unbreakable hold. She was imploring me for pure, genuine Love. And what else had I done in my life so far! What was I going to do in future? Offering pure, genuine Love without expectations was the essence of my life after all. Wasn’t it?

  Curiosity got the best of me and I started reading further, “Madhusudana, everything about you is simply exceptional – your character, your lineage, age, lustre, wealth, beauty, power, eloquence – everything. You enchant the universe, so it’s no wonder if a lady of marriageable age like me, surrenders her life like a Prajkta flower at your feet.” She had perfectly captured the Krishna and Srikrishna in my name with a precise choice of words. I smiled to myself in appreciation of her brilliance and began reading further, “Oh beloved, you can say whatever you wish to about me, but I have already surrendered myself to you in the heart of my hearts. Therefore, please leave no stone unturned to do whatever is necessary at this time!” The articulate emotional rendition in her epistle amazed me further, “You are the lion, the monarch of millions of Yadavas. But if you delay even a bit to take your share, then a jackal named Shishupala will lay his hands on it. It will be like a crow grabbing the share of an eagle. Won’t it?”

  She had skilfully used striking words that would instigate the pride of any true Kshatriya. I could clearly sense the dynamic beauty of her intellect along with her physical beauty. She wouldn’t let the reader stray from the topic. Even while realizing that, I laughed to myself. She had written further, “You might think it as my audacity to write an epistle to you like this. But only for your sake I am ready to sacrifice my f
amily, my womanly modesty...everything that I have.”

  Her brilliance evident so far in her epistle had reached its zenith in the content ahead. It was like a gesture of a guru who holds his disciple’s hand to teach him how to play the game of Hututu. Indeed, she was a pure manifestation of a woman’s innate brilliance. She had further written, “You may be concerned that there could be trouble when you enter the wedding hall, but be rest assured about that. The Bhoja dynasty has a familial custom of the bride visiting the temple of Goddess Ambika on the outskirts of the city. Be present and ready with your chariot at the time of my visit to the temple of Goddess Ambika with my friends. The moment I come out of the temple, take me into your captivity and abduct me. As I have been wedded to you in my heart your character will not be tarnished by the sinful abduction of an unknown woman. You have no reason to harbour such doubt!” Her clearly suggested solution produced a dimple in my cheek. Overly curious about how she had concluded, I read further.

  “Oh lotus-eyed Hrishikesha, after all this, what if you decide to turn down my request? In that case Manamohana, Madhusudana, have no doubts that I will end my life remembering you. Probably then at least you will be my husband in the next life if not in this one.

  Oh Srihari-Sridhara-Srikrishna! I desperately await you. Don’t forget Anandakanda, Mukunda, and Govinda that for me even a moment’s delay will be the end of this world! Just drop everything and leave urgently!”

  Uddhava was lost in himself observing the iridescent peacock feather in my golden crown. I said to him, “Udho, you always question me about who is going to occupy the seat on my left in the Yadaava royal assembly. She is the one who deserves that honour. Rukmini, your vahini!” I handed over the birch parchment to my dear brother Uddhava. He also read it thoroughly.

  “Go Udho, hurry. Dispatch a scribe, royal envoys and the cavalry chief immediately. Order the treasury chief to keep a few platters of royal gifts ready. Tell Daruka to take along the four white horses of the Garudadhwaja chariot, their backs covered with decorative garments. The chariot will remain behind. We will only take the horses with us. I will leave for Kundinpura today evening itself along with Sushil. Tell dada to follow me along with the army, and you come with him too.” I dismissed him with instructions.

  Ecstatic Uddhava scurried away promptly. A scribe showed up within a few moments; I dictated four letters for the four Yadava kings in the south to meet up with us directly at the border of Kundinpura with their armies. The sealed missives were dispatched with the royal envoys. I ordered the cavalry chief to be at the ready with a few nimble horses and combative Yadava warriors. We had learnt a lot by the experience of travelling twice through Dandakaranya. Dwaraka to Kundinpura was a long journey. We had prepared special troops to assist us during this journey. All of them were ordered to be at the ready.

  The wheels turned fast. We bade farewell to all and received some customary curds and blessings from Devakimata, whom we always called Thorali out of habit though she had now become the Maharani. By this time the news of our departure to Kundinpura had spread through the royal families of Yadavas. Everybody knew only this much – Maharaja Srikrishna is leaving for Kundinpura along with gifts to attend the wedding ceremony of the Vidarbha princess Rukmini.

  This time we crossed through Dandakaranya within two weeks, and immediately dispatched a royal envoy with the news of our arrival to King Bhishmaka. He dispatched his minister Rukmavarma to welcome us. He tried his best to persuade me to enter the city along with the army. After giving many excuses I cleverly declined his invitation. Our encampment was set on the outskirts of the city. The next day itself the wedding ceremony was going to take place in the royal assembly hall. Many southern kings had arrived for the wedding ceremony. From the north Jarasandha, Shalva and Dantavakra had arrived together. Shishupala, the bridegroom to be, had already arrived in Kundinpura. Many other kings had arrived with their armies either because they were in awe of Jarasandha or due to his coercion. From the south the four Yadava kings – our kith and kin – had camped on the southern boundary of the city as per my instructions. Skilfully, using my own Krishna style, I gathered succinct information of all those who had arrived from minister Rukmavarma.

  Convinced by Shishupala, his prospective brother-in-law, this time too, Prince Rukmi had not invited us Yadavas for the wedding ceremony considering us as lowly cowherds. He had become wary due to the fact that we had arrived for the wedding ceremony in spite of not being invited. He had sent his informers to our camp disguised as servants. I had to design a counter-strategy to keep an eye on his informers and plan our course of action accordingly.

  King Krathakaishika had camped on the southern boundary of Kundinpura. I requested for his embellished royal chariot to be dispatched to our camp. As per my instructions it was yoked with four hefty, dark black horses.

  As expected Rukmi had received the news during the night itself that a black-horsed royal chariot had arrived at our encampment. He called for his secret service chief and warned him, “Keep a close eye on the black-horsed chariot of black Krishna! Surely, he will plot some dark scheme and do anything any time!”

  Immediately after my arrival here I had sent a message with the Brahmin Sushil to the Vidarbha princess – “I have arrived. Do not worry. Be rest assured. Be patient.”

  The day of the princess’ wedding dawned on Kundinpura. Their royal palace resonated with holy sounds of various instruments. Family members clad in royal attire gathered around the wedding platform. Shishupala stood near the wedding platform, with the twisted gold-bordered turban on his head and ‘Mundavalya’, the dangling pearl strings tied on his forehead. After the wedding, he was going to wear his formal Chedi golden crown. He was going to crown Rukmini with the Chedi diadem meant for the Maharani, with his own hands. He was daydreaming about his blissful wedded life. His mother Shrutashrava and father Damaghosha stood behind him. Jarasadha’s son Sahadeva stood as the groom’s best man. Rukmi and his four brothers, clad in flashy royal costumes strutted about with golden crowns on their heads. Due to the terror of her armed brothers Rukmini was first going to place the wedding garland around Shishupala’s neck as her ‘own wish’! In the packed hall Rukmi was hunting only for me to banish me from the ceremony. It was a well-planned scheme by all of them. As the time of the wedding ceremony drew closer I began my strategic movements swiftly on the northern boundary of the city. First of all, I started dispatching troops of Yadava warriors towards the royal palace of Kundinpura, with my royal gift platters. They were going to go till their destination but not going to enter the palace and participate in the wedding ceremony. In fact, from there they were going to disperse and return to our base.

  The selected warriors who remained behind let loose the black horses of Krathakaishika’s chariot and yoked the four white horses of my Garudadhwaja chariot that we had brought along, and hoisted the Garuda pennant on the chariot.

  The most exciting moment of my life so far, the moment of my wedding that was going to be reminisced for ages to come, stood in front of me. Daruka brought the chariot with four white horses, boasting a saffron pennant marked with the golden Garuda in front of my pavilion. Dropping the reins, he descended from the chariot. Walking swiftly, he approached and bowed to me and Uddhava standing on my left. I verified with him, “Everything ready? Anything missing?”

  “No, sire, venerable Yadava, everything is in place! Arrows-quiver, Ajitanjaya bow, chakra, Agnikankana, Kaumodaki mace, Saunanda pestle, Nandaka sword in a scabbard – everything has been kept at the rear of the chariot. All is set.” He answered promptly giving me a pleasing smile.

  Both of you stay right here. I will visit the Aandhrabhrutya Goddess Ambika’s temple and be right back along with her blessings!” In a single leap, I was on the chariot and took the charioteer’s seat. Unfastening my beloved Paanchajanya conch from the blue scarf tied around my waist, I held it in my palm and momentarily touched it to my forehead. On the boundary of Kundinpura, pointing it towards th
e sky I blew it with bulging veins. I could feel that I had never blown it with such intensity before. I held the reins of my dearest friends, the four horses, in my hands. Remembering baba, aai, Aacharya Sandipani and our ancestors from Maharaja Pururavas to Shura I hollered from the core, “Megha, Shaibya, Bala, Sugriva, go!” Responding to my voice the horses neighed exultantly and sprinted forward. I left alone, with my chest brimming with self-confidence.

  Within a short time, taking many twists and turns, I brought my Garudadhwaja chariot in front of Goddess Ambika’s temple located at the base of the dense mountain range. I positioned it under a Champaka tree at a little distance from the temple. The priest and the attendants of the temple were stunned. Moving forward, briskly climbing the steps I passed through the central square and entered the temple. Bowing down to the divine Goddess Ambika I put my moist forehead on her holy feet. Slowly walking around the idol of the goddess, I spread my right palm resting on the left palm in front of the temple priest to receive the Tirtha-Prasada. Still baffled, with his eyes wide open he kept staring at the peacock feather tucked in my golden crown and the pure white Vaijayanti garland around my neck. Consuming the Tirtha-Prasada offered by the priest who was still in the bewildered state, I removed a pearl necklace from my neck and keeping it gently in his hands I asked him, “How come you didn’t go to the city for the princess’ wedding?”