Mayajaal: the snares of illusion || On hold ||

Chapter Three: Part one

Brajdas would always give Vrinda a glorious surprise on her birthday: a lecture on historical depiction of Krishna, His real life stories in short. This year, Vrinda sat on the front row every year in the palace stadium, large enough to occupy thousands of people. She bit her lips and waiting for her father to just start. She couldn't wait anymore.

The lecture itself felt more alive. She felt she was living within the historical stories, with her Krishna. She smiled at the thought and looked at Brajdas, who stood on the stage speaking one of those stories she loved.

Indeed, she heard these stories many times but every time she hears its, she feels more and more alive. It's as if someone has spoken sweet and kind words of love over and over again. And the feeling kept increasing every time she hears those stories.

Did you ever feel so happy that you desire to cry out loud in extreme bliss? That's how Vrinda felt right now after hearing it all.

"Now ladies and gentlemen," Brajdas looked at Vrinda after finishing up and grinned, "I will call upon my beautiful daughter to speak before you."

Vrinda gulped. What? She shook her. It wasn't like she never talked with people. She did and she love to discuss philosophy with everyone around her on serious topics. She was always careful enough to have a clear head while speaking.

She didn't want to mislead people by talking nonsense. And Vrinda knew her mindset was pretty much cloudy because of the flood of intense emotions in her heart. She feared she would end up muttering instead of actually saying something good. She didn't want to let her father down.

But she didn't have any choice. Everyone was watching her. They expected her to go up there.

She got up and walked slow steps marched upstairs ignoring the stare of people behind her back. Heart started thudding loud for some reason.

She smiled at the audience, "father," She whispered, "What should I speak about?" She seriously had no idea what to think of other than talking all about the story her father just spoke about.

"Tell them about how you were born. Many don't know that yet."

Before Vrinda could object, Brajdas turned at the audience, "she will speak about her divine birth!" He knew she would say no. What an embarrassing situation!

Vrinda's fingers were still holding the edge of my sparkling green saree. She looked at the king sitting on the seat adorned with pearls behind the stage. A small smile came on his lips. "Alright," Vrinda turned at the crowd, "My father used to tell me that he came here two years before I was born and he struggled so much to spread Krishna Bhakti, but nobody accepted it. And during those nine months of my growing up in the womb of my mother, all of a sudden his Majesty became my father's disciple, and through his influence everyone became Krishna conscious. My father always told me that I brought devotion to the Lord with me, but I don't believe this.

"And on the occasion of my birth, as a gift to me, his Majesty handed keys of this big mansion to my father, where we live now. I remember my father told me a year ago that he really didn't want to have this mansion, because he liked simple living in a small hut. But, the king went prayed so much! So my father agreed. And that's why he goes every day to the palace. So as to serve his own student in gratitude."

Everyone clapped. She looked at Brajdas, "Devotees are rare as a rainbow. They give relief to the eyes and soul. They are the purest individuals since Krishna steals the sins and envious thoughts away, leaving behind pure love for all loving beings," She looked at the audience again, "My father is the ray of sunshine that has come to enlighten with the love that is purest of all."

She bit her lips and looked at Brajdas. I didn't deserve these glories. I just spoke what my father told me. I just spoke his words. She thought.

"Amazing story Swamiji!" Vrinda heard a new voice and she looked on the left. She saw a small figured man wearing blue garments and various ornaments. He had a red turban on his head that was studded with diamonds. He smiled at Brajdas and marched on the stage. She was surprised to see a brilliant and purest shade of white colour on his hair. She had never see someone like that.

"So you liked it?" The king smiled at Chiran from the back. He got up and walked towards Vrinda. They would look like four people standing in circles with Vrinda in the center. She gulped. She wanted to get off of there.

Chiran nodded, "Of course. The story had everything: emotions, love, and a protagonist. A perfection for amazing drama."

Brajdas nodded, "That's good. But you should know that these are not just stories. It all happened at some point of time."

The king said, "Mr. Chiran, why don't you perform the dramas on Krishna?"

Vrinda's ears perked up. A drama performance on Him by professionals? That would be good. She looked at Chiran. Would he agree? She could no longer see him smiling. He looked down, seemed to be in a deep thought.

He slowly nodded and smiled. He adjusted his big turban, "Well, I would like to know more about the protagonist."

The king nodded, "Of course. You're free to ask anyone in our kingdom."

Another day passed by and nothing really happened. Vrinda saw Chiran sitting on the bank of the river and talking to the old saintly people. He looked quite surprised by our culture. He should be, of course. Where in the world would you see people immersed in the thoughts of compassion and kindness?

Vrinda was beside Brajdas in the first row in the palace stadium two days later. The stage was well decorated with flowers and leaves to make it look like Vrindavan. She was so excited! You would see it in her wide grin.

"Ready?" Chiran clapped like a kid.

She could hear murmur of various people around her. She turned her eyes at the stage where red curtains blocked the artists and her.

Finally, the servant removed those curtains leaving many teenage girls and one skinny boy of same age wearing blue robes. And the drama started. The party danced and ran on the stage. What was Chiran trying to show?

And then, something happened that wasn't supposed to. The "artists" on the stage started doing nasty things. They were dancing way too closer. The girls started throwing off their robes until they were wearing small skirts and blouse.

Vrinda closed her eyes shut. It was too overwhelming for her. This was not the real story that was meant to be shown. What was he doing? Why is this man trying to do the complete opposite? Did he not understand the difference between the relationship activities of humans and divine? Did he really think he could bring God down to the level of human beings and show pleasurable activities?

For Vrinda, the act was nothing but an attempt of Chiran to show an illicit dance drama that is meant to increase pleasure. Certainly, people would say what's wrong with that?

For Vrinda, everything was wrong with it. She wanted to feel the overpowering sensation that came with hearing Krishna's name and stories. The warmth that flows continuously from foot to head, filling the heart with unlimited bliss. But what she saw just made her empty in a way, she just felt disgusting. It was as if someone gripped the pit of her stomach and decided to twist it. She felt like she would end up puking in front of everyone.

"Hey! Descent people live here. Stop with this vulgar show!" A guy yelled behind Vrinda and many people joined him. The crowd got louder and they started throwing things on the artists. Everything happened fast. The artists rushed off of the stage and Chiran started to 'shush' people up by apologizing. The crowd scream at him.

"Silence!" Finally His Highness king Vishnugupta said literally silencing everyone. Vrinda could see Nakul shaking his head. Did he enjoy that nasty performance?

°°°

Thank you for reading. Please vote and comment.

Pooja.