Radha's Krishna

51. ||SAGA||

In the many eras we have lived
And loved
We had quite a lot of time
To talk about diverse subjects;
A plethora of topics.

I can still recall
Those nights
When I would come to you, running
We would sit under a bower
And talk endlessly
Sometimes you would appreciate my finesse
And particularity
For removing the tinkling anklets before coming.
And I would giggle
Saying
I might not be able to play your flute
But I am quite a woman.

The moon would gleam
The breeze would blow
The awed birds would gaze
You and I
Would go on
Talking
And talking
And talking.

There wasn't a beginning
And definitely no end.

Everytime when we would have to go back home
Quietly sweep inside the quilts and sheets
Waiting for our mothers to come wake us up in the morn
Every one of those moments, Krishna
Felt like a little death.
Every little transient goodbye
Even with a promise to meet the next night
Brought pangs of pain.
For it seemed like
I had so much to tell you
Yet I could never find the words.
What can I say? I'm silly
Really stupid.

But as I sit here, under the same moon and the same tree
But alone
I realise, my heart gasping
That I do not recall
A single conversation of ours.
It is shocking
I could sit here all night
Coercing this stupid mind
To reminisce even a single conversation
And I just
Cannot.

What I do remember, Krishna
Are the many
Comfortable silences
We sat in.

With our eyes closed
Backs touching
Silence prevailing
In the entire cosmos.

Those were my favourite meetings
For I never felt like I had to say more to you
My quietude made deafening noises
Noises that you would hear
And respond to
In your own silent dialect.

I don't think people slept then,
Krishna
For me, in those moments
Only we existed.
The two bodies
One heartbeat.

I always knew
But in those moments,
I felt.

I felt like we were one.
I felt like we existed.
I felt like
We were
The perfect love saga.