CC Madhya Lila 1.76 [Radharani said]
- “My dear friend, now I have met My very old and dear friend Kṛṣṇa
on this field of Kurukṣetra. I am the
same Rādhārāṇī, and now We are meeting
together. It is very pleasant, but still I would like to go to the bank of the
Yamunā beneath the trees of the forest there. I wish to hear the vibration of
His sweet flute playing the fifth note within that forest of Vṛndāvana.”
It was during a solar eclipse that Radha and the Gopis got to meet Krishna
again, after long days of separation since He had left Vrindavana on Akrura's
chariot to Mathura. But now in front of their eyes they do not have the
cowherd boy, covered of dust, wearing a headband and flowers amidst His
curls.
So, His turban
appears to their eyes even more big and glitzy, all studded with gems, but
eclipsing the image of that bluish boy, Who has stolen their hearts in the
groves of Vraja and had accompanied their dreams and secret thoughts every day
of their life.
Even though
the joy of seeing Him again is in no way reduced, this meeting, compared to the
feeling of their rendez-vous in Vraja, is missing some flavours. Radha
and the Gopis resolute that it is because they are away from Vrindavana.
So, with the ropes of their love they put Krishna on the chariot of their
hearts and pull it toward Vraja .... this is the churning emotion that moves
the devotees around world during Jagannath Ratha Yatra.
Caitanya Caritamrta ML 1.82 [The Gopis thought ] "Dear
Lord, if Your lotus feet again come to our home in Vrndavana, our desires will
be fulfilled." -
~~~
In these days
of eclipsed sun rays
has also the
Moon lost its radiance?
Your moonlike
face
beneath this
grandiose turban
full of gems
seems
shaded.
Where is the
moonlight of our desires
and the flute
tormenting our minds,
the mineral colors, the dust, the perspiration
that adorned
the blue luster of Your skin,
the pearls and
feathers swaying in the wind,
the blue
flowers graciously embracing your face,
the You, that
ocean in which our eyes used to bathe?
.... It is only there,
under the bowers,
loitering on
the sands of the Yamuna
and always within the hearts,
of Your women
in Gokula.
Now dressed in
silvery veils,
recalling the
stars
of the nights in Vraja,
with raised
arms
to attract Your
smiling glance
we’ll move in
circling steps
to remind You
of our dance
by the riverbank,
we'll move along on the way to Vraja
singing and
waving our hands,
pulling the
ropes of our Prem
to draw You
back,
with
trembling skin,
with anticipation,
of the sweetest moment
to see You,
coming down the large road
entering Vraja
at dusk,
like so many times before.
But now ~
nothing will ever be the same
since You
might leave again.
