Krishna and Balram stared out at the sea of crying faces looking up at them. The tears on the faces were for them.
The people of Vrindavan would never get to see their smiling faces again. They would only see their children's tearful faces as they longed for their lost friends, Krishna and Balram.
Never again would Yashoda and Rohini get to hear Krishna and Balram call them Maiyya in their velvet-sweet voices. They would only hear the other children call their mothers, asking where Krishna and Balram were.
Never again would they hear the complaints of the Gopis when Krishna and Balram stole their butter. They would only hear them reminiscing about all those blissful days.
Never again would they get to feel the sweet bliss that Krishna's music brought. They would only feel the wind on their faces going helter-skelter as if searching for Krishna.
No more would they get to see Krishna and Balram's lotus faces that put you at peace with one glance. They would only get to see the seasons changing, every season one more season without Krishna and Balram.
No more would they see the peacock feather waving around in his hair. They would only see leaves in the trees waving as if looking to Krishna.
No more would they witness the brothers' amazing feats from all their demon killings to their timely rescues of the people of Vrindavan to the miracles that brightened up everyone's days more than the sun. They would only witness the emptiness of the houses without Krishna and Balram sneaking in and stealing butter.
No more would Krishna's friends come with him in all his mischief. They would only lead the cows, day after day without Krishna and Balram's jokes and laughter.
No more would Radha get to dance to the notes of Krishna's flute. She would only get to listen to rain against her roof, the sky crying for Krishna.
Yashoda just stood there. She had cherished all those moments with Krishna. And now she would not get to cherish any more. What sin had she committed to lose her beloved Krishna so soon?
Everybody cried that day. Even the cows and if they could, the trees too. Vrindavan had been brightened up by those two smiling faces and now they would be gone leaving just a looming sense of sadness.
The blue-complexioned boy with a peacock feather and flute that brightened up everyone's hearts would be gone. The brother that participated in his mischief all the time- even if unwillingly-, the one that loved Krishna so, would be gone too.
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Krishna Leela
Historical FictionKrishna. Leela. Very simple to make the connection between those two words. In short, the connection: Krishna has made all his magical leelas which have captured the heart of even the King of the Devas. So why can't they capture the hearts of humans...
