KRISHAVYAYAM

50. Retrouvaille

His hazel eyes blazed with fury that bore the capability to burn the brahmanda to ashes. An indignant Yogeshvara snorted, his handsome features begrimed in hot splotches of exasperation at the sick and succiduous mentality of the society who dared to pose a question on the modesty of women who were faultless.

"We are grateful to you, your highness but you must understand the quagmire we have been pushed into," had said one of the amshas of his Lakshmi, who had been freed from the fortress of Bhauma. For, who was to be united with Hari if not Shri herself in multiple incarnations in Dvāpara to aid her lord in ensconcing righteousness?

"Society shall not accept us, GopīNātha."

"We have been robbed off all we had, our families won't take us back and you know it."

"Thus it would be appropriate if this earthen vessel is thrashed and our souls are liberated from a life of misery and torment alone."

"Be a little more generous, O offspring of Devaki, tell us what do we do if not get rid of this cadaver in the name of our bodies hounded by a monster? Where shall we go if not the doors of Kāla?"

16 thousand and a hundred of them, all alike.
16 thousand and one hundred women who were left to the mercy of a demon and he didn't leave a stone unturned to agonise them with his monstrous feats.
16 thousand and one hundred stories of unending grief, of scars, of bruises naked to the irises and masked in the hearts. Their narrations would be perverted with the flow of fickle time as unrighteousness shall once again commence to prevail in the epoch of Kaliyuga.

He was aware of how the people would predict it.
How he would be questioned time and again, much like his manifestation of Raghava.
And the jewel of Yadavas chose to take it upon himself if his ladies would be living a life they deserved thereafter.

Cacophonies infused with blood curdling cachinnation resounded in the brumous ambience. His darling Bhama was by his side, her archer palms squeezing his which held the Sudarshana and reminded him of her never ending affection, devotion and support for him. With an assuring blink of her lotus eyes, Satrajiti dazzled him with a grin that seemed to have breathed life in him again.

"Hearken, O women of virtue and piousness - those who have verily Vaani, Shri and Gauri residing in them," his grand vox soused in sincerity addressed the throngs built at the ill-starred castle. "Bowing to the Prakriti in you, I plead with you not to succumb before the evil by sacrificing yourselves."

He further trudged ahead, a plethora of emotions coalescing in him but everything was overshadowed by his unconditional love. The mighty Sāranga bow dematerialised in thin air from his robust arms as his lips curved in his signature gentle smile. KarunāSāgara's aura outshined the Sūrya and Chandramā for he was the source of everything in existence and his lotus eyes twinkled like the stars sitting on the dark raiment of caelum.

"I want you all to be cognizant of the fact that you have committed no crime to be exposed to the cruelty of society and fate," Satyabhama's Madhava stated this time, "And this you shall be known as Dvarakadhipati's brides with a position no lesser than any Queen of Dvaravati. Come what may, everyone and anyone might utter whatever their mind commands; but Dvaraka shall always be your haven, your home."

He resolved to step closer with the guilt weighing his tremendous shoulders as a sigh made its way out of his bimba fruit hued lips. Kanha smiled, and the stellar jewels residing in AakashGanga beamed with him. He who donned the peetambara, the one who in whose heart resided Chanchala. The one who left imprints in the mind forever, no mortal wits never honed enough to encompass his transcendental form. To her, he was the nepenthe to her wounds of every grief, his advent selcouth in her life.