Revisiting RadheShyam

Melody

Kanha,

I apologize, firstly, for how long this one took me to write. I just did not have the right words man! You'll probably laugh at how many rejected letters are sitting on my desk right now. Not because I have to choose my words when talking to you, but because most of the time I'm unsure what exactly I want to tell you. I want to talk to you about so much, tell you about every single thing that treads my mind, every thought, every action. But then I pick up my pen and all I can think about is you. Perhaps someday I'll send you a letter that says only "Krishna", and I hope you'll read pages after pages of my words in just that.

In some ways, I'm glad I came to know about your flute now, and not earlier. It felt so good, so lightening to speak about the "flutist" to you, like one does to a friend. And would you believe me if I say I was secretly hoping, perhaps even knowing, that the flute was yours? Again, call me crazy, but it is hard not to associate that enchanting tune with you. Sometimes I think you don't even need your baansuri to produce melody. You are, if that makes any sense, melody personified. You speak and it's music, you walk and it's rhythm, you smile and it's magic, you look into my eyes... and it's love.

Talking of love, my goodness how many girls exactly are "in love" with you? The whole of my gang spends the whole of their days talking about one single thing and that is you. And this, when they rarely get a chance to meet you individually. They're all content with those little sneak peeks they get of you walking around Vrindavan, like a stream of fresh water threading through a desert. It amuses me to see how much you can love someone from afar, someone you know can never be yours. But then they don't want you to be theirs, they want you to just smile and be their Kanha, their escape, solace, happiness all combined into one.

I have often wondered if what I feel for you is different from what they feel for you. Someday, I'll get an answer to that and talk about my love like I do about theirs. Till then, I can only hope you, with all your maaya, read more than I write and hear more than I say.

That's it for now, Kanha, for I guess I'm starting to sound too much like you – mysterious and emotionally complex. In case I delay the next letter too, just wait okay? It might just be one word, but it'll be there. For writing to you feels like talking to my own, true self, and is an experience I wouldn't trade for the three worlds.

Also, my pink-and-blue dress is ready, so should your flute be. This moonlit night, let's bring my fantasy and your 'reality' together. My feet have resisted your flute's invitation too long. Not any more. See you Yamuma kinaare! 

Yours,

Radhe.