Krishna:My Dark Lord


The Lord Krishna is perhaps my favorite God. Possibly because he is not terribly ‘Divine’ i.e he is portrayed as someone who is not too far away, not unreachable. He is a God who has flaws in equal measure as he has his perfections. He is not afraid of his weakness and revels in his strength. He is a lover and a warrior. He has a heart made of flames and burns like fire on a rushing sea.
It was from my paternal grandmother that I heard stories of Lord Krishna. And he appealed hugely to me. I was fascinated with the great power of his mind. Its focus, agility and nimbleness. For even as a kid, it was only a person’s mind that could attract the accidental sufi and sustain her interest infinitely. Being a female, I also resonated to the litheness, the beauty of his spirit and the incandescence of his love. And yeah, he had long hair and played the flute. So absolutely Jethro Tull!
So in my mind and words, I spun many a tale about Him and I  🙂  One such tale comes to my mind, today, as many of my friends ‘like’ ( on FB) the picture that is featured on this blog post. It was also about questioning hypocritical chains that society and we put around love. Chains of honor, birth, caste, religion, ego, fear etc.
It was a dark night. The rains lashed heavily and fell mercilessly, wounding the earth. Thunder and lightning laughed derisively as mortals huddled together and feared/questioned if this was the wrath of the Gods.
But I was not afraid. For I was a woman, tempered like steel, by the love of him. He, who the mortals call ‘Achyuta’( the infallible one), ‘Anantajit’( ever victorious), ‘Akshara’( indestructible’). Impatiently, I put flowers in my hair and darkened the ‘kohl’ around my eyes. I looked beautiful but I had to hear him say that I was. Only then would my beauty be complete.
He waited for me by the banks of the river Yamuna, as always. Behind a boulder of blue-black stone. Tall, dark and tender. He lit up as he saw me. And I gloried in the power I had over him.
His strong arms enveloped me and all the sweetness of love flowed from him to me. I became his flute as he breathed himself into me. That captivating melody, which so few, whether divine or human are blessed to hear, echoed as sacred chants. Primordial and deep.
Somewhere perhaps then the dark Gods laughed? They who like to tear you apart. Make you follow paths of deceitful ecstasy. Get to you because they cannot get to him. Feed hemlock into your veins to hurt him.
So my Lord said to me, “Who is the most important ?”.I answered “You, my Lord”. He smiled and asked “What is the most important?”.I answered “Our love, my Lord”. He smiled yet again and asked “How long will you love me?”.I answered frivolously for humans are trained to mouth such shallow platitudes.“Till death does us apart, my Lord”. He told me “The minute I heard my first love story,I started looking for you,not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along” .He then gathered me up and told me “You are blind. Your vision is clouded by your cleverness. There are lovers content with longing.I’m not one of them There are many who look to me for fulfillment. I chose you. Perhaps, I need to wait for some more time. You need to be worthy of my love.’’
I saw myself reflected in those fathomless and faultless eyes. But rage filled me. And the dark Gods held my hand soothingly as I told him “You are not worthy of my love for you are low born. I wake up to the sounds of the Vedas and the fragrant smoke from the sacred fire. You tend to cattle. You consort with women who are pliant, submissive. Who can see no fault in you? How will you understand a woman who by birth is destined to read and interpret the Scriptures?”
Distantly, I heard clamor. Of a world shutting down. Of an age passing by. The Dvapara Yug. That is when Krishna left me.
As darkness engulfed me, my dark Lord smiled and kissed the palm of my left hand. It is said that there is a vein in the left palm which connects directly to the heart. Only those, who are pure in their heart and fearless in their love, will find it and dare scorch their message on it. So he burned this into me “When love is not madness , it is not love. Return to me only if you are mad”.
The accidental sufi perhaps doesn’t belong to the current age/’yug’? For in her journey of love and its much travail, she hears Borges say “I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me…” Yes, the only mirror that I was reflected in was Krishna’s eyes.
Thus, in the ‘Kali Yug”, I returned to Him. Mad. Truly mad. So like Alice.”But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.”Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.””How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.”You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” You see, the accidental sufi did not/cannot let in/allow those who tried to understand her. For those who understand us, enslave something in us.
I hear him say now, in his beloved ragged and honeyed voice ‘You have been hiding so long, endlessly drifting in the sea of my love. Even so, you have always been connected to me. Concealed, revealed, in the unknown, in the un-manifest. I am life itself. You have been a prisoner of a little pond,I am the ocean and its turbulent flood. Come merge with me, leave this world of ignorance. Be with me, I will open the gate to your love.”
I play the Raag Darbari on flute for you. The Raag has a dark, rich melodic sheen to it. Bathing it in colors of midnight blue velvet and soft gold hue. The colors of my dark Lord. It has a controlled power, emotional richness, philosophical depth, and regality. The qualities of my dark Lord.
Namaaste 🙂
[The statue in the picture is from Frazer & Haws. ( exorbitantly priced, so I couldn’t afford it, actually. Someone has gifted it to me. Someone I loved once also gave me a box full of darkness. It took me time to understand that this too, was a gift. Love, they say is always a gift. You will only receive this gift if you sacrifice your conscience, your reason, your integrity and your invaluable self-esteem.]


11 thoughts on “Krishna:My Dark Lord

  1. Oh soul,you worry too much.You have seen your own strength.You have seen your own beauty.You have seen your golden wings.Of anything less,why do you worry?You are in truth..the soul, of the soul, of the soul- Rumi.
    Enslaved by your beauty my friend.Peace!

    • :)Hey there, once again! I need to Rumi-fy you too 🙂 ‘My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there’…unfolding my own myth.
      Peace, love , rock n roll 🙂

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