Mathuraraaj

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The lovers knew only one art– that to love, and they did it best while living in the moment. Alas, neither was aware of the atrocities of the world. Fate loved to thrust asunder sweet lovers. It was a favourite pastime of destiny– to play a game of dice with the lives of souls who promised their mind, body and spirit to one another.

Standing under the the night sky at the brink of dawn, bathing under the moon beams soon to be bidding goodbye, Krishna waited for Radha. For one last time...

Had he ever thought such a great destiny awaited him? Had he ever sensed he was to be more than just a cowherd boy?

He was given signs multiple times. From killing the demons and demonesses who came to kill him, to the insane tricks he would perform just like that, as if they were a child's play–  everything pointed to one thing.

He wasn't meant to be ordinary.

"What a wonderful curse..."

"The lives of so many are in your hands, Krishna."

She had come.

Did he deserve her? She glowed like a thousand suns, was as fair as precious gold, glittering like the stars. Her hair was dipped in the seduction of midnight and her voice was like dew gliding down a scoop of honey.

He was dark, as black as coal and such a malice, like the spots on the moon, a mirror that only reflected embarrassment. He was nothing on his own. He needed her to shine, to be seen. He was so dull on his own.

"I am nothing without you. I will not–"

She shushed him with her fingers. "You, as beautiful as Yamuna, the Lord of us all, why are you so afraid?"

"I am not afraid of dying. I am not a coward in the face of danger. But Radha, there's something which I cannot do. Even Shiva was destroyed when he lost Sati. Who am I to live without you?"

Radha placed her hand over his heart. She had to be strong. If he was on the verge of breaking down, she had to be his support. She had to rebuild him from the shards of melancholy. "I will come to you. Just call me."

Krishna smiled at her innocence. Why was she so simple and pure? What good did he do to earn her love? Ah, if he had to be a king, he would be the king of her heart. "We are not going to meet ever again, Radha. I don't want to dream in vain and drown myself."

"You have the whole of me, Krishna. I know," she placed a kiss on his knuckles, "we won't be able to touch each other, feel each other like we did all these years. We wouldn't be able to sneak out at night to meet like this!" She chuckled, tears brimming in her eyes. "We have grown up now. We must face the world. And my Krishna, you know who you are now. You are a prince. A kingdom awaits you. Riches await you. Perhaps, even a princess."

It pierced Krishna like a spear tearing apart his heart into shredded pieces of bloodied skin. "I..." No, he had no words. "Ho-how are you so brave, Radha? They need to worship you and not me. I am no God. I am just a man who loves."

"Loving is selfish. When you learn to give back love to people, selflessly, without any expectations in return, you become a true human. You are here to embrace all and protect so many. Do not, I say, do not run away from your duties." Radha looked into his eyes and cupped his face. "Go to Mathura. Don't worry about me. I will be fine. I have your memories. I will live."

"You are being selfish now. You know you will be fine but I won't be."

"You are to be a king. A king doesn't show his pain. He is here to eradicate the suffering of others."

Krishna shut his eyes, tears trickling down his cheeks. "I am going only because you want me to."

The sun rose up in the sky. The azure was adorned like a newly adorned bride, in colours of sindur and blush. Radha smiled up at the morning. "Time has come."

Krishna hugged her to his chest. Radha muffled her own sobs, caressing his curly hair and letting him cry. He had to go through so much in life... Her agony was nothing. He was born battling the evil, and his life was now going to be sacrificed for the welfare of others.

She pulled out of his embrace. "May you be a victor, Krishna," she said, wiping his tears. "May you be the best."

And then, she ran away. Never looking back. Not sparing a glance. Not even when he screamed for her to return.

Krishna would remember her strength, not her tear-soaked face. Whenever he would be in trouble, he would recall this night.

He would remember her, his Radha, as a warrior in the body of a beauty.