The Garland for Krishna
It was a cool evening in Vrindavan. The late October sun spread its warm blanket on the land of Braj and bathed it in yellow like a bed of sun flowers. It was that time of the day, when Krishna would usually leave home to take a stroll along the banks of river Yamuna. He had returned after taking all the cattle for grazing along the green trails of Govardhan. While he was busy all day taking care of the cattle, one young Gopi was busy making a flower garland for him. She had been nurturing the jasmine and champaka trees in her garden for years, just for this day. Finally her garden had come to life with the most fragrant flowers. She chose each flower with utmost care and made a divinely enchanting garland for her beloved Krishna with alternating moonlike white jasmine and golden yellow champaka flowers. The flowers were held together not just by mere thread, but with her love, tears and longing. Would he accept it?
With anticipation in her heart and garland in her hands, she reached the house of Nand Maharaj. Not having the courage to go inside, she hid herself behind a pillar and watched Krishna as he was about to leave for his evening stroll. He was dressed in crisp yellow silk garments. The gentle evening breeze played freely with his curly hair. His charming golden earrings moved back and forth as if longing to touch the strands of his lovely black hair. His soft curls began to tickle his slender blue neck and he raised his left shoulder slightly to push them behind. The shimmering pitamabar hanging from his shoulder, began to slide down his long arm. As he grabbed it swiftly with his hand, the shining white pearls in his necklace clinked against one another, as if proclaiming the pride of their proximity to his broad chest! Her eyes got transfixed on this divine form that saints strive to get a glimpse of, through lifetimes of severe penance. Mesmerized by his charm, she completely forgot the reason she had come there for. Even though she couldn’t utter a word, the flowers in her garland gave it all away. Their fragrance did what words couldn’t do. Each petal called out to him, “Krishna”, “Madhava”, “Govinda”!
Krishna began to walk towards her. At that instant, she understood that he had long known that she was here. He knew her more than even she did. He had known her all along and had watched her as she had strung each flower in the garland. It was by his will that she was here. As he lowered his eyes to admire the garland in her hands, she noticed his long black eyelashes. They had lowered down as if acknowledging her entry into this kingdom of divine love. He gently nodded his head and stretched his hand out for the garland. She was going to present her humble offering to the Lord of the universe. Her Krishna had accepted her garland, he had accepted her unwavering love!
