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ramayantika · 4 months ago

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Chaand chuppa badal mein...

Krishna and Bhaishmi are back. Enjoyyyyyy

Krishna and I have regularly stayed in touch with each other after the train took me away from him and the serene temple towns of Mathura and Vrindavan. We talk a lot on text and sometimes on call in the late hours of the night. I have to quietly sneak out to the balcony. If I am lucky, I get to go to the terrace without waking my parents up. If I am luckier, our schedules match our free time in the evening, and I get to call him in the quiet hours of the evening.

I chose humanities. Ranvit and Bhumi had to pursue science even though Ranvit likes art more. Bhumi was indecisive about what subjects to learn, but she fares well enough in science and mathematics than her brother and me, so she decided to go for the science stream.

Ranvit has to struggle a lot in physics and math though. He takes out his stress through painting and reading about Indian art. One thing I am happy about him is that he did not let go of his art, nor did my uncle and aunt force him to abandon his hobbies. Their condition: “Pursue science. Get admission into a decent engineering college and then keep doing whatever hobby makes you happy. But science and engineering.”

As for me, class ten mathematics had given me enough nightmares. I did well in science, but I had no interest in pursuing it in more detail for the next two years. Those monkey problems from Ranvit’s physics book and large derivations on Bhumi’s notebook had me in shivers. Maasi supports me choosing humanities though, but would never want her children to pursue anything apart from science.

Ranvit and I are in class twelve now. We have our boards and entrance exams next year. Bhumi is new to class eleven but she is able to handle her subjects well enough, better than Ranvit though.

“Busy looking at the moon…?” Krishna’s honeyed voice draws my attention from the golden full moon beaming right back at me. I breathe deeply and sigh. A sheepish smile forms on my lips, and I place my phone on my left ear. “Uh... sorry, but you are right. How did you figure out?”

I can hear his smile through the breath that escapes his lips on the phone call. He is outside too — perhaps staring at the same moon with me.

“I have a golden moon dangling down the dark sky too, but there is somebody else who is ethereal than the moon whom I would like to see, but my fate doesn’t support that.” He sighs. It is a dramatic one. “Guess, I will have to make do with this golden ball of light.”

My cheeks warm and I smile. It is actually a full-fledged grin with my eyes imagining how he would look saying all that in front of me.

I can easily picture a charming lazy smile and a hand moving through his soft wavy locks while he leans closer to me and tucks my hair behind my ear.

A realization strikes me as my eyes glance at the gleaming moon once again. I am badly whipped for this guy.

“Bhaishmi?” I hear him question.

“Yes. I am here only. Am I audible?”

“Did I get you flustered?”

“Shut up.”

“Yay!”

“You are an idiot.”

“Only for you.”

We don’t say anything for a minute. I can hear him breathing. It is a faint sound, though. I like this comfortable silence. I do not feel restless to hold a conversation forcibly.

Krishna’s voice from the other side enters my ear. “I composed a new tune.” He pauses for a brief second before continuing. “I would like you to hear it.”

My heart picks its pace. It has been a while since I have heard him play flute to me. The last time it happened, we were on the terrace at Yashodhara’s house before we left for our separate ways.

“I would love to.”

“Wow. Cool. I will quickly fetch it. By the way,” I hear a tone of hesitancy in his voice, “are you okay if I play it to you on video call?”

I slap my palm over my lips to contain my excited laughter. Breathing in deeply, I nod and reply, “Yes. I am alone at my society’s terrace.”

“Okay!” He drags ‘okay’ with happiness for ten seconds and disconnects the voice call.

A minute later, my screen lights up with a pretty aesthetic profile photo of Krishna. I slide the green call sign upwards and receive the call.

An excited Krishna waves at me before placing the phone on his table. It is 11.30 PM and he looks as fresh as a lily flower, with a good outfit on top. A cream polo shirt with half sleeves that proudly boasted his toned arms and dark blue trousers.

I fan my face, pretending that I am adjusting my loose hair from my ponytail. After all, he can’t make out that I am fanning invisible hair strands around my face.

He sits on his chair and pushes himself along with the chair slightly backwards to place himself and his flute in the frame, his flute placed near his lips, a place I had been to a year before. The fateful kiss on the evening of Holi seared through my memory, and I blinked hard to bring my focus back on Krishna.

“Ready?” He asks.

I nod quietly while hiding my blush at witnessing the handsome sight in front of me.

He begins by playing a single note that sounds meditative to me. It is a slow but soothing beginning. I can imagine the moon and the cool breeze blowing around me. A few more slow music tunes flow through his flute, and I observe his face.

Krishna always appears so serene while playing the flute. He is at peace. Each of his facial muscles lie in a relaxed state except the slight curl of his lip. It appears like a soft subtle knowing smile, like that of a talented artist well aware of his craft and the hold he has over his cherished audience.

This time he plays a slow melody, as if taking time to express each emotion through every note. The rise and fall in volume and scale expresses a story of its own. It is hypnotizing.

There is yearning, loads of it. The tunes tug at my heart, as if calling my name. Krishna gently sways. It is a graceful motion. Well, Krishna is perfection incarnate. He is a natural performer.

My eyes close on their own. I can see myself dancing in my head to his music. I once dreamt that I was dancing to his music, only for him, for his eyes to see me and my art, just like he played the flute to me those two nights, only for me.

The yearning melody transforms to a slightly fun tune, as if teasing a beloved to proclaim their love, until it begins expressing bashfulness and devotion. God, he was truly a talented artist. He ought to be on bigger stage shows than post some one minute videos on Instagram and play his genius tunes for my ears to listen.

At one point, the music peaks. I feel my eyes moisten and my heart full with nostalgia, yearning and may I add this secretly: Love. A very tender love blooming like a lotus in the early hours of the morning when its warm golden rays caress its petals, coaxing it awake very gently.

It ends and my eyes fly open. I smile — this time not out of shyness, but of genuine admiration. I wonder if he can see my glazed eyes.

“Oh my, are you crying?”

I shrug my shoulders and blink those tears away. “Have I told you that your music is very moving? It easily makes someone too attached to it. It is like a spell.”

This time Krishna smiles shyly and scratches the back of his head. “Glad you liked it.”

Liked? The word loved too would be an understatement. I don’t say that out loud though. I answer with one of my pretty smiles.

Krishna twirls the flute around his fingers when I see him lean closer towards the screen, his eyebrows furrowed as if trying to focus on something. “Are you wearing my peacock chain?”

I pick the pecock pendant around my neck. “Yes, I keep it around my neck most of the time.”

“So, you still wear it every day.”

I nod with a hum and fiddle with the pendant. It used to be a part of Krishna’s beloved flute until he decided that it would better suit as a parting gift for a girl he met on a train than a beautiful adornment for his musical companion.

His eyes go thoughtful instead of the slightly smug playful expression he bears to mess with my heart with his relentless flirty lines. Krishna’s lips curl beautifully upwards. He is smiling to himself and I don’t question him why.

I know the answer to it.

He brings himself near to his phone. I can see more of his pretty face with more clarity. “The gods did hear my prayer after a long time. I got to see my girl prettier than the moon.”

Rolling my eyes, I reply, “Your flattery continues even though it is past midnight.” Secretly, I preen when I hear him say ‘my girl.’

I am a simple girl. I hear a sweet and charming guy call me as his; I melt into a puddle.

“Flattery for you, sweetheart. For me, it is the truth.”

And like that, my friends, I go quiet except the thudding heart inside my chest.

“So, how are you up this late, Bhaishmi,” He asks, tilting his head. “Your mother makes you sleep by this time.”

Shifting my phone towards my other hand, I flex my right hand a little to ease the stiffness in my wrist and answer, “My parents are out of town. They are visiting a relative’s wedding and will be back a day after tomorrow.”

Krishna’s dark eyes widen in surprise. “So, you are home alone for two whole days.”

Mustering up some courage, I add, “And two whole nights.”

He places his cheek on his palm. He looks like a lovesick fool, a very adorable one at that as he asks, “So, no interruption for two whole nights?”

“Nope.”

He hoots loudly before looking alarmingly at the door. Turning back towards me, he says softly, “Head back to your room then Bhaishmi. You are alone and you must not linger around late at night, especially on a dark terrace.”

I get up from my spot and walk towards the door. My hand accidentally hits the steel door. It creaks in an eerie tone, making the both of us jump.

I jog down the stairs with light feet as images of terrifying ghosts chasing me fill my head, and rush inside my warm cozy room.

“Did you lock the door properly?” Krishna asks.

I nod while curling myself in my cozy pink coloured blanket. My eyes close at the comfort surrounding me followed by the urge to fall asleep right away thanks to the mental exhaustion of being up late at nights for studies and projects for my school.

“Should we do a virtual sleepover thingy? You are sleepy.” Krishna points out.

I laugh and lay my head on my fluffy pillow. “I don’t have enough data pack for that.”

Krishna walks to his bed and covers himself with his blanket. His voice goes soft. He should sing me some lullabies, and I would fall asleep like a baby.

“Go to sleep, Bhaishmi. Try visiting me in my dreams.” He says with a teasing grin.

I smile in content instead of blushing hard. His face and his beautiful eyes are the last thing I see before my call screen changes to my lock screen wallpaper.

A ping awakens my tired eyes. My screen lights up.

“Goodnight Bhaishmi❤️. Sweet dreams.” There is a heart emoji beside my name. It is a red heart this time.

I wonder if he accidentally sent the red heart, since we generally stick to pink and blue ones.

Another ping.

“I will try to visit you in your dreams ;)” He adds a winking emoticon and a laughing emoji.

I grin and press my palm to my forehead before sending a text.

‘Goodnight Krishna 🩷🩷’

I don’t mention the part where I tell him that he has been in my dreams quite often.

--xxx---

Taglist: @ma-douce-souffrance (idk if you are using tumblr. you still haven't read the full series for this, but i am tagging in case you find this in the future hehe byeee) @jessbeinme15 @manwalaage @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic (hii sakhii) @krishna-priyatama @krsnaradhika

I kinda forgot the taglist for this fic. Many have different user ids now. Let me know if you all want to be tagged for krishna fics

#samridhi writes #krishna #gopiblr #modern au #krishna x rukmini #mahabharata fics #fics #fanfiction #teenage romance

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blackknight-100 · 4 months ago

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I'm absolutely obsessed with how mythology portrays parent-child relationships, especially when at least one divine party is involved. I've talked about Karna and Arjuna's relationship with their fathers, and how it might tie up to their characters and situations, and the Mahabharata as a whole, but they're not the only ones! Speaking exclusively about father-son dynamics in this post, and we have a lot of them!

You have Yudhisthira, whose father Yama/Dharma shows up in his son's mortal life twice (iirc), gives him a 20 min quiz each time and then tells him that no son, we don't allow dogs in heaven (which, how dare, but we all have that one parent). This is so in line with Yudhisthira's arc, poor man that he is, having to spend his whole life finding answers to questions about righteousness and honour, losing his friends, brothers, wife and children in the process.

Rama-Dasharatha and Ganesha-Shiva are pretty straightforward - there's plenty of mutual love and respect despite the horrors ™️ , but then there is Rama and Luv-Kush. If you're counting the Uttar Kand, then these boys literally saw their mother die because there father could not stop questioning her honour. That has to mess with your head. There's no way it's a happily ever after story.

Another man who interests me greatly is Yayati. Like sir... what were you doing. Who grows old and thinks, "You know what would be great? Me borrowing my son's youth" and then curses them when they refuse? What were you thinking. What were your kids thinking. I need to take your heads apart with a scalpel, this is so incredibly insane. A father should give to his children - the only thing this man "gave" was to spare Puru from his curse.

You have Bhishma and Shantanu, another wild story. I understand that Bhishma chose to give up his birthright to make Shantanu happy, but can you actually tell me Shantanu wasn't at least somewhat interested in the plan? Shantanu is Bhishma's father, it's his job to stop him from doing things like this. I feel like pulling my hair out everytime I think of this. You can tell that Bhishma was afraid for his father's well-being when he made this decision, and that so... unfair.

On the other end of the spectrum are Krishna and Vasudeva, who are wholesome to the point of despair. Vasudeva giving up his everything just to get his boy out of prison?? Waiting years and years for him, but never lamenting or cursing Krishna for not coming fast enough??? That's peak fatherhood (Shantanu take lessons). And Krishna honours that sacrifice!! He comes from idyllic Vrindavan, slays the tormentor of his parents and rips the bars of their prison!!! And that old married couple trapped within those dank, dreary walls, with no one except the other for company, watches their godly son turn up to free them and show them the sky for the first time in more than a decade - the thought of it brings me to tears. Possibly the only part I like about the change from baby!Krishna to adult!Krishna is his reunion with Vasudeva and Devaki!

Oh, and last but not least, our favourite problematic pair: Jamadagni and sons. I'm slightly terrified by how Jamadagni was like "kill your mother for me she's sinful >:(" and when four sons refused, he actually killed them. HIS OWN SONS! Admittedly, in some versions he asks Parashuram to do the killing but like... those are his brothers. Who probably swaddled him and rocked him and fed him and played with him. And all this is presumably happening right in front of Renuka. And then Parashuram has to kill his mother as well, unless he wants to be a heap of ashes.

(In some versions, including the one I've always heard as a child, Parashuram is said to be "aware of" his father's immense power, which just seems to me a really polite way to say that Parashuram knew disobeying his father had consequences ™️ that weren't always right or rational)

Worse, after the killing is done, Jamadagni is so pleased he offers Parashuram a boon, presumably with the remains of the rest of his family still nearby, and when Parashuram asks for his mother and brother to be revived, Jamadagni is all like "ooh actually I got really angry, I think I'm going to renounce rage forever. Dw btw your brothers and mother forgot you killed them you're welcome <3"

Sir??? This is what you got out of the whole issue???? No wonder Parashuram killed a whole bunch of kings, this couldn't have been healthy.

#the best part is that literally all of these fathers are around even today #yama is the father whose exacting nature drives you to ruin #dasharatha and shiva are father's who make wrong decisions but their love withstands their follies #whether or not they make it right #shiva is always THE father though #dasharatha is... human. poorly so.#rama is the father whom your mother forsakes. you bear his presence. you accept his love. it makes you feel guilty #as if you're betraying your kind and gentle mother. but she isn't there. so you take what you can #clinging to the last remnants of warmth. you cannot be left alone.#yayati is the father who takes everything except a 'no'#and when you refuse #he will curse you and loathe you and name you selfish #and give everything to whoever curries his favour the most - a father of syncophants #(and as an added flavour he will blame your mother for it because why not)#shantanu is the father who takes advantage - of your grief your loss your fears and your immaturity #vasudeva is the father who tries: “yes i am far away. but i am with you. always and forever”#and jamadagni is a case of his own - a spectre of rage dressed as an authority and guardian #fatherhood #father son relationship #rama #yudhisthira #yudhisthir #parashurama #jamadagni #yama #hindublr #hindu mythology #ramayana #mahabharata #mahabharat

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krsnaradhika · 4 months ago

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Oh my God in your recent post (BTW I am a different anon) when you said Shri Sampraday call to you I gasped bcoz SAME. I also love the fact that our Shri 🌸 is considered the first guru and hence the name. PS. I have seen bhakts hating on Kanha's loved ones in his adulthood like what? From belittling Arjun to making passive aggressive comments against Dwarka-Shriyas is absolutely wild to me and I think people are just so used to it that they don't even see anything wrong with it . Apart from the Gita DWARKADISH KRISHNA AND HIS LEELAS IN DWARKA ARE SO UNDERRATED. I love Vrindavan and kanhaiya there as well obviously but I have a strange fondness for Dwarka. I don't know how to phrase it but just thinking about Dwarka by the sea with Kanha and his Shriyas feels like home. And once again I think Dwarkadish and all his Dwarkeshwaris deserve the world (i mean they own it but still-). This was kind of a vent because I am kinda tired of this behaviour by Hindus themselves, anyway I love your blog and your writings. Everytime I read a new chapter a new word is added to my vocabulary so thank you for that as well😭😭❤

You have gotten me started on this one, anon. I'm not to be blamed.

Dvaraka is my forever muse. Like, yeah Vrindavana and Barsana and Gokula are home too but Dvaraka is a whole different vibe. The many many Maa Lakshmi roopas, Kanha highlighted as a husband and a father, Maa Devaki (yes she gives me the feels too. God I love her), Baba Vasudeva, Dau, Bhabhi Revati, Subhadra, Gada, the kids, the wondrous city skskskskskaaaaa.

And yeah, this is Kaliyuga. You see Arjuna being slandered and people literally glorifying Karna. Arjuna is literally called Narottama and is revered in the very first verse of the Jaya Samhita, and the fools have this audacity🤦🏻‍♀️

I absolutely HATE how they dishonor my Shriyas cuz tf did they do to these ignorant lil shits? Leave my queens alone. I will start throwing hands now, with no regrets.

Dvarakadheesha Krishna is so so 🤌🏻✨💗 like- the vibes? The aura? The rizz? The mor mukut and the gold armor? The serenity? The mischief? The sweetness? The teachings? The platonic and romantic bonds? THE MAN? I'm obsessed ehehe.

SHRI JI IS OUR GURU ALL THE WAY YAYYYYYYY CUZ SHE'S LEADING US TO HARI'S LOTUS FEET 🪷🫶🏻✨

I love you too anon. And you're welcome. This really is the most frequent compliment I've gotten as a writer 🤣🫶🏻

#krishnablr #krishna #gopiblr #kanha #ashtabharya #dwarka

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moonlitmistyforest · 5 months ago

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Nihâl Chand - Bani Thani as Radha, 1750s National Museum, New Delhi

Bani Thani was a singer and poet in Kishangarh during the reign of Raja Sawant Singh who like the lady, also practiced poetry and worshiped Radha and Krishna. Bani Thani, originally named Vishnupriya, was employed by the king's foster mother. The poetess and the king fell in love, and the lady later became one of the his wives. Their relationship has been compared to Radha and Krishna. In the end, the king chose divine devotion over power, leaving his kingdom to spend the rest of his life in satsang dedicated to Krishna. The lady stayed with the king, they lived in seclusion in the city of Vrindavan, where Krishna also lived. They died a year apart.

The artist depicts Bani Thani with elegant and charming details: arched eyebrows, elongated lotus-like eyes and a pointed chin. We can see her in traditional Indian attire with a cheerful expression, with small details on her clothes and jewelry. The painting is considered one of the finest examples of Indian miniature painting with its vivid colors and realistic expression of the singer's beauty. She is also celebrated for her graceful posture and ethereal quality that captures the essence of the Rajputana kingdom. Bani Thani's beauty and talent have made her an icon of Indian culture. Even two centuries after his death, the Indian government issued a stamp with her portrait. The painting not only expresses the love of two devotees of Krishna, but also the power of art to create emotions and the beauty of devotion.

#indian art #bani thani #hinduism #radha #krishna #art history #classic art #far east #18th century #indian miniatrue painting #nihal chand #portrait #dress #lotus

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realtyassistant126 · 29 days ago

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Keshav Majestic Vrindavan is the best residential project offering 1, 2, 3 and 4 BHK flats. Located on Sunrakh Road, its prime location ensures serene living with modern amenities.

#Keshav Majestic #Keshav Majestic Vrindavan #Keshav Majestic Sunrakh Road #Keshav Majestic Reviews #Keshav Majestic 1 Bhk Apartments #Keshav Majestic 2 Bhk Apartments #Keshav Majestic 3 Bhk Apartments #Keshav Majestic 4 Bhk Apartments

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sunbeam2002 · 1 month ago

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#flats in vrindavan #plots in vrindavan #property in vrindavan #flats for sale in vrindavan #affordable apartment in vrindavan

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sambhavami · 1 year ago

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The Lost Flute - Part 3 (A Golden Bridge)

Yashoda was packing a small suitcase when a golden-complexioned woman appeared in her doorway. "Maiya!" The woman called. Her beautiful face burned like fire as the last rays of the setting sun bathed her. Her dress was dishevelled, its now-faded colour reminiscent of the night sky.

"Radha!" Yashoda exclaimed with joy, as she pulled the woman into a warm embrace. "It's been so long! Do you not miss us?" Yashoda complained. Radha shook her head absentmindedly as she stood playing with her long, unruly curls.

After a long pause, Radha whispered, "I heard from the gopis that you were going to visit him. Dwarika is a long way from here. I thought I'd come and see you before you left."

"Yes! That pesky Subhadra finally talked me into going. Krishna is performing a yajna. She invited us for that!" Yashoda's face fell, "I'm so sorry, my dear. I should've invited you sooner. I just didn't know how to ask you, when it was my child that left you behind!"

"I did not come here to ask you to take me with you, Maiya. I just came to say goodbye!" Radha smiled softly.

"Why not, Radha? Come as my companion, I am sure your family won't object to that!"

"My family is not the problem. I just don't want to go."

Yashoda sighed, "I know! You must be very upset with him! I understand. You must be thinking that he got married to other women and forgot all about you!"

Radha chuckled, "Radha is not someone you just forget Maiya. Even now, after so many years, with just one word from me," she snapped her fingers, "He will come running from his Dwarika and fall at my feet! Still, I trust my Krishna. If he chose to get married, his queens must be remarkable women. It's not so easy to move on after you've known me!" She smiled, "Whatever it may look like, I am thrilled for him! Believe me when I say that I pray every day. I practically beg the Gods that he may forget me. How will he be happy unless he does? You might ask me Maiya, do I not love him anymore? Tell me this, who in this entire world has ever gotten over your son?" Radha smiled sadly, "If you must know, we did not part willingly. We only gave each other up in the face of his destiny. Let us not fool ourselves into thinking that the society that tore us apart all those years ago will let us live in peace now. Like it or not, he and I are done! I refuse to reopen this old wound just for a moment's delight." Radha forcefully wiped a lone tear from her cheek, "Think of him also, Maiya! He will be torn apart if we come face to face again. I cannot in good conscience put him through that!"

Radha started laughing. Yashoda looked at her, puzzled. Radha said, "I am just so happy for you Maiya! You will get to see him, touch him and listen to him! Oh, what wouldn't I give to have just a glimpse of him, but alas, that is not to be! You know, the greater good and all that nonsense?" Radha gripped Yashoda's palms, "Promise me, you'll bring something of his? Even if it is a scrap of cloth he touched or something he threw away! Don't tell him it's for me, just get me something?"

Yashoda felt her eyes well up as she pulled the now sobbing Radha close to her chest, running her fingers through her distraught hair.

---

Yashoda leaned back against the cushion on the chariot seat. The journey from Vrindavan to Dwarika had been a long and tiring one. It did not help that their escort to the city, one of the Yadava cousins, could hardly stop talking. Yashoda let her mind wander back to Vrindavan for a bit. Radha had come to see them off. She had walked alongside the chariot up to the edge of the village, beaming the entire way. However, Yashoda had noticed her puffy, red eyes. She kept turning away to hide her face, trying not to upset them.

Ever since Krishna had left, the poor girl had been left completely exhausted. Yashoda had also heard from people about how Radha had left her family and lived in a makeshift shelter near the river bank. People had also found her talking to birds and trees as she wandered through the forests of Vrindavan. Whenever Yashoda thought of Radha, she felt a painful twinge in her heart. She felt as though she had somehow let down the poor child. Even though people in the village gossiped about her apparent insanity, Yashoda had seen a rare resolve in Radha. This was a person who lost the one thing in her life that she actually cared about and still refused to give in. Only if life had been a little kinder to her!

---

"Kaki!" Yashoda was shaken from her thoughts by the cheerful voice of Satyaki, their escort. They had reached the gates of Dwarika. "Kaki, the chariot only comes this far. Do you see that stone bridge over the ocean? That will lead us right into the city. Shall I order a palanquin to be brought over?" Yashoda declined with a smile.

Nanda had already started walking, clearly impressed with the grandeur that lay ahead. Every shikhara of the city, built on an imposing island off the coast, was wrapped in gold. The buildings were painted in varied, attractive colours. The moon-marked flag of the Yadavas flapped proudly over the tallest spires.

"Is that real gold on the pavement I see?" Nanda exclaimed. Satyaki nodded, laughing, "Well, we had an excess and couldn't figure out where else to put it!" He explained. Nanda nodded approvingly, "And this bridge? We heard of the Rama-setu, and now you guys seem to have figured that out as well! How did you pull this off?"

"Oh, Krishna hired some fancy architect, he took care of the science for us. We don't usually get involved in cosmetic matters!" Satyaki beamed as Nanda raised a brow.

Yashoda let the men walk on ahead, engrossed in their discussion.

The ocean splashing up against her feet made her feel strangely giddy. She had always wanted to see the ocean ever since she was a little girl. She turned away from the dazzling city and took a deep breath. The salty air seemed to alleviate all stress from the arduous journey. The ever-stretching skyline of emptiness seemed to fascinate her. Was she standing on the edge of the world itself, she seemed to wonder. Why had Krishna chosen this place to be their haven?

The last few decades had been tough on the whole family. First Kamsa, then Jarasandha! Yashoda wondered if choosing this island, in the middle of nowhere, was Krishna's tiredness finally seeping through the cracks.

Yashoda had asked Rishi Garga when he had come over to perform Krishna's namkarana, back when she had still known him to be her own flesh and blood, "Swami, how much happiness will my lalla get in his life?" She had asked the clairvoyant sage.

"He will bring endless joy to anyone who sets their eyes on him," the Rishi had replied. No matter in how many ways Yashoda had framed her question, the Rishi had stood firm in his answer.

Yashoda sighed as she now wondered if Krishna was happy at all.

#krishna #hindu mythology #balarama #fanfic #original writing #india #subhadra #vrindavan #mahabharata #the lost flute

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