Krishna - salvation through self-love

The sorcerer, the flirt, the heartbreaker who leaves you cold, broken, and lonely after warming you up, after the foreplay, before you can taste the orgasm in this union. I can’t forget, even after so many years of separation and being out of touch! He was the first to invade the heart of a five-year-old, raised in a remote village nestled in nature.

Who in this cosmos would not surrender to his allure, his valour, his love? One would have to be truly deaf, dumb, and blind to resist. He captivated the imagination of poets, painters, and philosophers. I bet if there is a spot left to be discovered, yet to be seen, he explored it all. He was the Superman of our childhood dreams, our childhood friend, always with us in the forests, rivers, and hills.

For him, on this Janmashtami, my daughters will perform a dance routine at the city temple. I eagerly wait for my daughter's performance and reflect on a unique gift I received from our childhood friendship—a scar on my chest, literally close to my heart. I cherish it; I want it to remain, but it fades with age.

I vividly recollect that incident. Other kids stood back while I was drawn to join in and catch the fun with a group of peacocks gathered on the grassland. I ran, fast and furious, and reached them. In my excitement, I caught one male peacock by the tail. I might have scared him, as he turned around and scratched my chest.

I didn’t even notice I was bleeding but joyfully stood there watching them as they slowly moved ahead. After some distance, as they walked past a ridge, the male peacock shook his tail and dropped a feather. I picked it up and returned with the gifts—a feather and a deep scar on my chest.

A couple of decades later, while walking on a mountain, I didn’t notice a snake just inches away from my feet, poised to bite. Then a peacock made a loud cry from somewhere, and the snake retreated.

He proves himself as a protector in times of need. But then, he was missing many times when I thought he should intervene. It seemed he was either utterly selfish or insensitive. Or is he only a construct of my mind, not real at all? He put me in doubts—sometimes showering me with love in abundance, and at other times abandoning me in deserts!

It is a topsy-turvy relationship. I came to realize he is a master of illusion, playing with my trust and emotions. Yet, I couldn’t leave him, with a deep-rooted belief that he is a friend, a childhood friend, to whom I gave nothing in return except my worship.

Years have gone by, and still, when I visit my village, I unknowingly search for him in those grasslands. I look for peacocks; I look for feathers... but find none! I get convinced he is gone; he left with the peacocks!

Or once again, is he playing the game of hide and seek? I can feel the pain the gopis must have felt when he left them. Neither can you hold him, nor can you ignore him. You can never be certain why he hurts those who love him. Is it a ploy to teach real love—the love of oneself? Lately, I’ve started to get an inkling!