Before Radha Rani was ever the goddess of love, tenderness, compassion and devotion, who was she?
Before an eternal lover, who was she?
An endearing baby, left alone in the curling laps of the mighty Yamuna River?
A charming, mischievous child, who...
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'Perhaps try diamonds instead of circles?' I suggested as Lalita drew the design for the rangoli on the soil.
'Just as you say, Radha Rani!' Lalita chuckled as she drew the design for the rangoli. I was sitting under the forest's blanket with my friends, planning for the fair. I glared at her as she called me Rani. 'I am sure I will forget this design by tomorrow though! My memory is as strong as a petal.' Lalita winced. She stared hard at the rough design she had made on the ground as if trying to scrape it off and stick it in her brain.
'Don't worry Lalita, for unlike you, my brain works quite fine,' Vishakha teased Lalita, making me chuckle. 'Vishakha is right!' I added, making Vishakha laugh harder. 'See, even Radha agrees!'
'You both are so mean! I am going! Try having fun without me.' She got up and turned to leave. I got up quickly and hugged her from behind to stop her. 'We cannot without you,' I told her, pinching her cheeks. Lalita smiled, but it was short-lived for Vishakha to say, 'Or your foolishness!' Lalita's mouth fell wide open, and she ran towards Vishakha, making Vishakha run too. I laughed at their goofiness. I adored them, and could die for them if I ever got the fortune to.
It's strange how I remember the littlest of incidences. Small moments like these, have made my life what it has been. Small moments like these, have made me who I am today. I am proud of myself, and I will never change all of what happened – horrible or delightful.
I remembered churning makhan with Yashoda Kaki. She taught me how to churn it the exact way so that the makhan came out free of lumps and bitterness. All the while we were together, she kept talking about her sons and their addiction to makhan, especially Krishn. She told me, that Krishn would many times steal makhan too. She told me that he always found a way to get makhan, no matter how high she hung it or how hidden she kept it.
'One day, I knew I had to punish him when drenched gopiyan came to my door and complained about him. I was already angry at him, for he had tried stealing the makhan again, that day. So, I dragged him by the ear, and – I do not know what came over me – I tied him to a big mortar. I wanted him to stay there, and calm his mischievous self down! I wished to teach him a lesson, but he ended up teaching me one!
'I left him there and went on to complete my duties. After a while of quiet, I heard the snapping of trees and was instantly alarmed. What if it was a monster like Putana again? In horror and frenzy, I ran to where I had left Kanhaiya. I was shocked, when I saw two broken trees, and his mortar stuck between them. My silly boy had somehow managed to drag that mortar by himself, and he was only five! He sat between the trees, unaware of what he did, chortling. '
I laughed with her in wonder and surprise and noticed the gleam in her eyes. She brightened up whenever she talked about her son, and she glowed even more when her sons were around her. It was adorable, how selflessly she loved them. I wondered if every mother's love for her child is the same. If my mother's love was the same, as I imagined it to be.
