✵POTS

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Strange, how someone we had not even met had come to occupy all our thoughts. Our days were spent in conjuring up scenarios of this much awaited meeting, while our nights?--- Our nights were occupied by dreams of a beautiful pair of eyes, bright, lotus shaped and fringed with long dark eyelashes.

Lalita had overheard our mothers discussing about how us girls had taken to day dreaming a lot lately. Our chores were being performed with an evident reluctance. Not only our mothers but we too heartily wished to be cured of this strange '𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒'.
But for that, we needed to have our curiosities satiated. We needed to arrange a meeting with this 'samasya ka jar' as soon as possible.

Of late, the whole village had taken to waking up at the crack of dawn to the tune of a flute floating down from somewhere above the hillocks and travelling in soothing ripples across the whole stretch of the land that comprised our Barsana.

Who WAS this magical flute player, whose dhun stirred up such unknown emotions in our heart and filled us with such inexplicable joy?~ that made us want to spread out wings and soar high- higher and higher,  away from the chains and obligations of this material world; that made us feel that we were not simple village milkmaids anymore, but our existences were part of something larger,  something inexplicably beautiful, something beyond the boundaries of time and space.

An abrupt clatter of pots, coupled with the mooing of cows and the notes of a rustic song which our Mahesh chachaji was singing in his high bass voice jolted me out of my brown study and I realized that my day had begun!!
I braided my hair and adorned it with freshly plucked flowers. I put a bindi on my forehead, collected my pots and was all set to go and fetch water from the Yamuna.

Radha, Chitra, Lalita, Vishakha, Chandra and the others were already waiting for me by the time I came out. Nowadays, we were taking the long route to the Yamuna tat, that led right through Vrindavan in the hope of catching a glimpse of 'him'. The mysterious never fails to attract and this particular person was mystery enough. No wonder, the mere mention of him had started making buttetflies flutter in our stomachs and tender blushes appear on our cheeks.

A complete lack of activity on our way to the Yamuna had left us a bit disappointed and we were slowly and carefully traversing the path back home,  trudging under the weight of our water filled pots; when suddenly---

"Wheeeeeeeezzzzzz" and "Crackkkkkk"
And voila!! Chitra was completely drenched in water, her pots broken to pieces.

Before any of us could comprehend what exactly was happening, Lalita too had been reduced to the same sorry state. Lalita was followed by Radha and Radha was followed by the rest of us in unbelievably rapid succession. As we stood there,  drenched, bewildered and angry, a soft musical giggle emanated from begind the foliage of the near most tree.

"Who....who is it?? How DARE you??", Chitra, who was a little braver than the rest of us, demanded to know.

We were nearly scared out of our wits when a lithe figure suddenly jumped down from the tree and presented himself to us.

"I am Krishn,  Kanha? Kanhaiyya?....and I just broke your pots."

Saying thus, he grinned;

and we knew that it was too late;
too late to be angry, too late to feel disgusted,  too late to give a befitting reply to his cheekiness - too late to cherish hopes of getting cured of our so called '𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒' ever again!!

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RADHEE RADHEE!!

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