𝔎𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔦: The virtue of infinite love

Chapter 5

The nascent dawn, an azure expanse adorned with streaks of rose and saffron, bestowed its incipient light upon Srivilliputhur. The atmosphere resonated with the desultory murmur of bees, their iridescent forms flitting amidst a kaleidoscope of vividly hued blooms embellishing the temple gardens. Throughout the domain, calamitous inundations remained absent, as copious rains irrigated the land across all months, nurturing crops to abundant fruition. The fields, adorned with tall, luxuriant paddy, teemed with vitality, while piscine denizens frolicked amidst the verdant expanse. The cattle, akin to benevolent benefactors, bestowed copious quantities of milk from their abundant udders, endowing vessels with their rich bounty.Srivilliputhur, perpetually abounding in prosperity, owes its fortunes to the divine presence of Bhu-devi herself!

Amidst this intricately woven tableau crafted by nature's most illustrious artist, three companions, each a paragon of burgeoning beauty, engaged in a lighthearted pursuit – a flurry of brown fur, as mischievous rabbits darted with the fleetness of sunbeams through the verdant labyrinth.  Kothai, with eyes mirroring the diaphanous cerulean of the nascent dawn – clear, luminous, and flecked with an impish glint. Her eyes resemble those of fish, her brow arches akin to a curved bow, and her tresses cascade in dark strands reminiscent of billowing clouds. Her visage stirs yearnings within men, akin to the allure of a moon that has sought refuge in the fisherman's hamlet, fearing the serpentine threat of sky-bound vipers. Her toes, painted crimson, resemble corals sprouting from the lotus-like softness of her feet.. As she tumbled to the ground, a cascading waterfall of raven tresses, meticulously woven into intricate braids, spilled around her like a river of polished ebony.

 Sudhamani, Kothai's closest confidante, boasted a complexion rivaling the burnished brilliance of purest gold, further enhanced by the vibrant azure of her sari, shimmering with the iridescent sheen of a peacock's plumage with every graceful step. Extending a hand to assist Kothai, a playful glint mirroring the one in her friend's eyes illuminated Sudhamani's pools of deepest umber. "Steady yourself, Kothai! Have you, by some capricious twist of fate, channeled the playful spirit of the divine Krishna himself?" Rising with the effortless grace of a willow branch swaying in a gentle breeze, Kothai brushed the dust from her saffron-hued dress, the color reminiscent of a marigold in its most resplendent bloom. A playful smile, akin to the first blush of dawn upon a rose petal, graced her lips.

"Perhaps, Sudhamani! But the embers of devotion that burn within my heart for Krishna far surpass the fleeting thrill of capturing a mere rabbit. Within him lies a universe of stories, each a testament to his celestial grandeur, waiting to be unraveled. Many arrogant kings of this wide world lose their arrogance and stand humbly in his court beneath his throne. I wish he wakes up and opens his eyes a little bit, like the half-open anklet bells. If he looks at me with his two beautiful eyes – akin to the Sun and Moon rising together – I will be redeemed of everything." Vasanthamalai, the embodiment of quietude amidst the vibrant duo, finally joined them, her breath coming in short gasps that mimicked the rapid staccato of a startled dove. Her eyes, usually reflecting the serene stillness of a moonlit lake, sparkled with a hint of amusement. "What tales of Krishna's exploits are you weaving now, Kothai? I must confess, chasing these furry escapees has left me as breathless as a wilted lotus yearning for the vivifying touch of the morning dew."

Kothai, a natural raconteur endowed with the gift of spinning narratives as intricate as a spider's web, settled them beneath the expansive canopy of a banyan tree, its ancient branches reaching out like gnarled yet benevolent arms, offering a sanctuary of shade from the sun's burgeoning heat. "These are not mere tales, Vasanthamalai," she began, her voice hushed with a reverence that bordered on the numinous. "These are fragments of the divine essence itself – stories of Krishna, the celestial architect who spins galaxies on his fingertips and breathes life into the cosmos with the melodic strains of his divine flute. He is the unblemished golden jewel of the cowherds, who tends to their many cows and is capable of vanquishing his enemies in battle."