Butter Thief of Vrindavan

It was that time of the day when the sun was finally getting ready to retire for the day, after serving Krishna and his cowherd friends. The horizon turned crimson and the air in Vrindavan was filled with the chirping sounds of birds, returning to their nests.

All the streets and houses were empty. Only one gopi did not leave her house that evening! She wondered why all the villagers madly rushed to the outskirts of Vrindavan every evening, to see some cowherd boy named Krishna returning home. She had heard her neighbors tirelessly describe the beauty of this boy, who charmed them with his sideways glances and left them frozen on their feet! It had just been a week, since she had moved to this village. She could not comprehend how the villagers could be so blissful in this place! She was already tired of coming home to broken pots with only traces of butter left.

She had a hunch, this was the doing of that Krishna. He was mesmerizing innocent villagers and stealing all their butter. Today, she was going to prove it! She was determined to catch this butter thief red-handed or more appropriately, white-handed! She had worked hard all day, alongside other gopis, to gather the most aromatic butter, with no other thought in her mind, but one, that the mischievous Krishna was going to come and steal it. Even without knowing what Karm yog was, she had been a Karm yogi of the highest order, that day!

She hid herself in the darkest corner of the house, in that twilight hour, contemplating on what she would do the moment the charmer arrives. With her eyes widened and her senses focused on the door, she waited with the concentration of a seasoned yogi! As the last few rays of the sun entering her little door and started dimming gradually, a strange bluish brightness began to engulf the house. The jingling sound of anklets broke the silence and united with her heartbeat. “What kind of careless thief doesn’t even bother to remove his anklets?”, she wondered.

As the jingling gradually became louder, the smell of sandal wood from his body, permeated the room and overpowered her. There he was, the blue complexioned Krishna, his feet trying to tip toe into the house! With one hand tucking his flute into his waist cloth, and the other hand signalling his companions to follow him, he intently looked around the house. The eye shaped spot on his peacock feather, seemed eager to serve his twinkling eyes, in the search for butter. The moment he spotted the pot of butter, a smile creeped on his ruby red lips, forming endearing dimples on his bluish cheeks! The dimples got even deeper, as his lips pursed and eyebrows frowned in contemplation of how to reach it! Her soul swam out of bhav saagar (ocean of sins) only to drown helplessly in those dimples!

He was indeed the Choura Agraganya (the leader of thieves), because not only did he steal the butter, but he also stole her heart and mind so effortlessly! She sat there in a trance, long after he left! Tomorrow she would tie the butter pot even higher, as that would make him stay there for longer!