The Epics

"To be Indian, or to simply live in India at any period in her recorded history, is to open oneself to the benign moral influence of two epics - the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Caste, creed, colour do not matter here; what matters is the degree, range and subtlety of exposure, which in turn determines the quality of the affected person's 'Indianness', whatever that very large word means" - Professor Purushottam Lal

Oct 5, 2012

Krishna's Diary: Entry 1

Slight hiccup today.
Emerged from Chandravali's house after a very, ahem, pleasant afternoon to run straight into Radha. 
Which means another long round of tears and tantrums in the very near future. Tiresome.

Guess I'll just recycle my old line about "You are the queen of my heart while the others are mere distractions". 
Given that I have trotted this out in various guises, oh, at least a dozen times before, you think she'd see the pattern by now. But of course not.

That's the problem with the people here in Vrindavan.
Not that I'm complaining mind you. Life is decent. Low expectations, low pressure. 
Plus loads of women - generally quite shapely and more important, extremely eager to please !
No surprises there - I am the only decent prospect for many yojanas around and their desperation is quite apparent, really.
In fact, once, on a lark, I decided to test if said desperation extended so far as to step out of the river into full public view in the nude, just to please me. And believe it or not... but I digress.

The problem with the people here is that they are dumb as rocks.
Makes them easy to impress, though.
Like that time, when I killed a large-ish snake by the riverside. The tale grew in the telling and soon I was "Conqueror of Kaliya - Snake King of the River".
Snake King, indeed. Anybody paying the slightest attention, instead of running around in wild panic, would have noticed it was not venomous - I was never in any danger.

Or even better, the incident when everyone panicked during a thunderstorm and I suggested that they shelter in the rain shadow of Govardhana Parvat nearby.
That time I became "Saviour of Vrindavan from the Wrath of Indra."
Which, of course, made the gopinis even more willing to please, if you can imagine that !

But honestly, I find this all rather pointless. At the end of the day I am merely a hero among simpletons, a playboy among cowgirls, a smallish fish in a very tiny pond.
Balarama is quite happy here - all he desires is a chance to swing his club, a large pot of local brew (preferably a very large pot) and perhaps, an occasional roll in the hay.
As for me, I am bored stiff.

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