"Whoever takes Your name Radha, with love, I'm instantly drawn to the service of such a devotee. Such a devotee is very dear to Me, who believes in the magic of Your name and worships You before Me."
Reminisce and relive the omnipresent love of the...
The screeching sound of a chariot coming to a halt disrupted their chatter.
Vishakha turned Her head around, trying to peek in and have a glance.
"I have never seen such a chariot before. And that flag on top, seems unfamiliar too." Lalita whispered, with a hint of gloom in Her voice.
The royal chariot had drawn everyone's attention. It stood and parked right in the middle of the city. A red flag was whirling on top, with markings of a royal kingdom. It was magnificent, painted golden, and was decorated with princely ornaments.
A group of women were passing by. They stopped when they caught sight of the chariot. Their mouths dropped in a gasp.
"This chariot…" One of them whispered, pointing towards the horses. Even the horses had royal emblems and robes.
"Yes, this chariot belongs to King Kamsa." The other whispered.
They turned towards each other and shared horrified glances. Then, they quickly picked up pace and began walking towards the other way.
"Did You hear that Radha? This is Kamsa's chariot."
Radha could not decipher what was going on. But still, She nodded as Vishakha continued to stare at the chariot.
"Come, We must go and inform Nanda Maharaj about this." Lalita held the hands of Her friends and nudged them.
But before They could turn and take a step forward, an old man emerged from the chariot. He walked towards them and stood in front of them, blocking Their way.
"Can You please tell me the route to the palace of Nanda Maharaj?" He asked, in a hoarse, broken voice.
It was Akrura, the messenger sent by Kamsa.
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"No!!!"
Yashoda screamed and fell on Her knees, covering Her face in Her hands.
"My baby Krishna!" She sobbed uncontrollably. Nanda Maharaj came to Her side and lifted Her, making Her sit on the cushioned chair.
"Yashoda, You must let Your children go and fulfill the purpose of Their lives. No matter what You do, nothing can stop the intervention of the Divine. Don't worry, Your children are not mere mortals. Nothing will happen to Them."
Yashoda threw Her head back, Her eyes red and swollen with tears. "How can a mother part ways with the pieces of Her own heart? He may be different but to Me, He is always My dear baby son."
Small footsteps knocked at the door. They all turned around to face the entrance. Krishna and Balarama had returned from the pastures.
"Ma… Don't You trust Me?"
Yashoda ran towards Her sons and dragged them inside. "See, Akrura has come to fetch You both. He is saying that the King has invited You to Mathura. Is it truly Your destiny to rule as Princes? Will You forget Your foster mother once You meet Your real parents?"
