Finding Radha Page 8

  You become Radha, and I Madhava

  Truly Madhava, this is the reversal which I shall produce

  I will braid your hair and will put your crown upon my head.

  Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda is sung in temples dedicated to Lord Krishna and is quite passionately erotic:

  O Shri Krishna, in a secluded place, Radha is painting a picture of Your captivating form in musk, considering You to be Kamadeva himself. After depicting You with mango-bud arrows in Your hand and riding upon a makara, She bows down to offer respectful obeisance to Your portrait.

  Legend and oral history have a cultural significance. While most scholars believe that Radha was given a formal identity by the 12th-century bhakti poet Jayadeva in his Gita Govinda, there is always more to add over time. The noted Kathak exponent and researcher Uma Sharma imaginatively ended her film Sri Radha, with the words: ‘Radha toh krishna ki kalpana hai. Mahabharat mein jab Krishna akele hotey hain woh Radha ko yaad karte hain, Radha unko miltey hi unmey gupt ho jaati hai’ (Alone, after the battle of Kurukshetra, Krishna remembers Radha, and Radha appears, only to be morphed into Krishna).

  This becomes the ultimate metaphor for the oneness of Radha and Krishna, an integral part of not only Bhakti but also of Advaita philosophy.

  7

  RADHA: BELOVED OF THE BLUE GOD

  BULBUL SHARMA

  KRISHNA IS THE beloved of 16,108 women. Innocent village milkmaids and princesses of royal blood—they are all besotted with him and love him unconditionally. Still, from time immemorial, Krishna’s name has always been linked with Radha’s. They merge together like the petals of an unopened bud, and Radha–Krishna is always chanted together in one breath, as if it is one name—one single, lyrical word.

  Radha–Krishna. Together they form a magical circle of dancing light which bestows eternal love and joy to the world. Though her name is forever linked with Krishna’s—she is not his wife and there is no mention of her in the most important Purana dedicated to Krishna, the Bhagavata Purana. There are just a few mysterious lines about a gopi who was chosen amongst all the other maidens to go with Krishna to the forest. This made the chosen gopi very proud and, her heart swollen with vanity because now she considered herself the best of womankind, the gopi asked Sri Krishna to carry her. He agreed and asked her to climb on to his shoulders, but as soon as she touched him he vanished into the air, leaving her humiliated and repentant. That is all we learn about her, and years later this proud, fairest-of-them-all gopi is identified as Radha.

  Radha’s relationship with Krishna always seems to have fiery elements of pride, passion and longing. When we meet her as a fully developed personality many centuries later as the heroine of a poem by Jayadeva—the Gita Govinda, Radha is still feeling the pangs of passionate love, longing and hurt pride. The poet paints her as the lovelorn heroine always pining for her absent lover. Her restless eyes seek him everywhere and her soul is never at peace.

  The dominant emotion of Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda—a great poetic work created in Odisha during the 12th century—one that was going to influence poets and painters for many centuries to come, is the ‘viraha rasa’, or love in separation. There is jealousy, anger and hurt pride too in the poem, and we experience them all in a short span of time. We see through Jayadeva’s lyrical verses, how Radha loves Krishna with all her being, defying society, against her own will and knowing the fact that he is not always faithful to her.

  ‘My mind counts the multitude of his virtues, it does not think of his roaming even by mistake, and it possesses delight, it pardons him his transgressions from afar; even when fickle Krishna delights among the girls without me, yet again my perverse mind loves him! What am I to do?’ writes the poet Jayadeva, who sees this powerful love relationship of Radha and Krishna as a metaphor for the divine–human relationship. According to legend, Krishna himself came down from heaven and swiftly composed this poem when Jayadeva had gone to the river to bathe. The poet, a great devotee of Krishna, sees Radha as the worshipper who willingly gives up her entire being, her heart and soul, to become one with her beloved God.

  It is after Gita Govinda is written, that Radha comes into her own but we still see her surrounded by a veil of mystery. Unlike Sita, she is not a consort, a crowned queen seated on a throne by her husband. In many mythological stories she is said to be older than Krishna, and a married woman. Her relationship with Krishna is fraught with danger and intrigue. Not for them a palace with a glittering court paying their respects to the couple. Radha always meets Krishna in the forest or in some secret grove hidden from the prying eyes of her family and the people of the village.

  In one popular tale still narrated by Bengali folk singers, we see Radha stealing out in the darkness of night to meet her beloved. ‘Abandon the noisy, capricious anklet, go to the dense dark grove; wear a dark blue cloak,’ Jayadeva had written earlier, describing her tryst in the forest with Krishna.

  Radha walks quietly through the dark, lonely forest but she is not afraid since she knows Krishna is waiting for her in the grove of trees. Soon they will be together in ecstasy. The heady scent of night blossoms makes her dizzy but she forces herself to walk faster and then suddenly she hears footsteps. She turns around and sees a group of women from the village following her. Her mother in-law, Jatila, is there too, glaring at her with angry eyes. ‘Where are you going, Radha, at this late hour? Who are you going to meet in the forest?’ the women ask suspiciously. Radha turns to them and says, ‘I am going to pray to Goddess Katyayani at midnight. She stands in the middle of the forest in a bower. I pray to her every night. Let me go or the auspicious hour will pass.’ Radha then quickly runs into the darkness. Krishna is waiting for her in the bower, his blue skin glowing in the dark. Radha falls into Krishna’s arms, trembling with fear. ‘I have lied to the women of my family. I told them I was going to pray to Goddess Katyayani in the forest. They will follow me here and soon find out that I lied,’ she sobs. Krishna smiles and caresses her hair. He soothes her with gentle words. ‘You told no lie, my beloved. You will pray to the Goddess,’ he says, laughing, and takes her in his arms. Then suddenly the forest is set ablaze with a flash of blinding, golden light and there before Radha stands a beautiful image of Goddess Katyayani. When the village women reach the bower they see Radha bowing to the shimmering image of the goddess, offering her fruits and flowers. The women of the village go away sheepishly, feeling ashamed that they had doubted Radha. She is left alone in the forest to be with her beloved for the rest of the night.

  Though the love of Radha and Krishna defied all social norms, in Bengal, Assam and Odisha she is worshipped in her own right by Vaishnava Hindus. Radha and Krishna idols form the inner core of many temples in the Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, Vallabhacharya and Chandidas sub-traditions of Vaishnavism in Bengal. Here we often see Radha seated next to Krishna, bedecked in jewels like a bride.

  Most mythological sources say Radha was never married to Krishna and is thus called a parakiya, or another man’s woman. Yet, an episode from the Brahma Vaivarta Purana tells us a different story.

  In this legend Radha’s marriage to Ayan is shown as a trick of illusion, and it was really Radha’s shadow that was wedded to Ayan. She was always Krishna’s wedded wife.

  This is how they first met.

  Radha was born in Barsana, and a few years later, Krishna, as ordained, was born of Devaki, in captivity, and carried to the house of Nanda to be safe from Kansa. There he grew up amongst the cowherds, a beautiful, lotus-eyed baby. One day Nanda, Krishna’s foster father, had taken his baby son along with him when he went out to graze the cows. He placed the baby on the grass and, as soon as he did that, the skies became overcast with dark clouds and a strange sapphire light filled the forest. Thunder and lightning began crashing all around them and Nanda ran around in fear. Just then, in a flash of light, he saw Radha standing under a tree. ‘Do not fear. I will take care of your baby son,’ she said, and reached out to take the baby. She carried him to the safety o
f a bower and as she held the baby in her arms, her face began to glow with joy. She shut her eyes and remembered her past life when she was Krishna’s beloved in a celestial city high above Vaikunth.

  As the storm, created by Krishna, roared around them and pillars of dust surrounded them like a wall, Radha recalled her glorious days of rapture with Krishna. She recalled the bed made of fragrant flowers in a palace of gold and she began to cry with happiness.

  Suddenly she heard Krishna’s voice and when she opened her eyes, he stood before her—a young boy of immense beauty. His skin was dark blue and his lotus eyes sparkled with love for her. As she gazed at him with wonder, he said, ‘My beloved, remember the days we were together. You are dearer to me than my life. You are the container of the world and I am the cause. Therefore, O chaste one, come and occupy my heart. As an ornament bedecks the body, come and adorn me.’ As his honeyed voice filled Radha with ecstasy, Lord Brahma, the priest of the Gods, suddenly appeared. Trumpets and drums began to play and a shower of flowers fell from the skies as Radha and Krishna were married. ‘Let us dance the eternal dance of love once more,’ said Krishna and embraced her. The storm continued to rage around them but Radha lost her reason as thrills of rapture flooded her. She did not know if it was night or day any longer. Then the forest fell silent, the sky cleared and she opened her eyes. She could not find her beloved lord, her Krishna, anywhere. He had vanished in an instant.

  The baby now lay in her arms, crying with hunger. With tears flowing down her face, Radha ran swiftly, carrying the baby back to his home. She handed him gently to Yashoda and turned away. Her heart was filled with a secret happiness because now she knew she was the true beloved of Krishna. She would always remain his true beloved. Had he not promised her that? ‘In the sphere of the rasa, you will sport with me. As I am, so you are. I constitute your life and you constitute my life.’

  In lyrical verses Jayadeva tells us about the turbulent love life of Radha and Krishna. Radha is in a jealous rage because she has heard from the gopis that Krishna has gone away with Chandravali.

  Radha runs home in tears but takes care to hide her grief from the people who greet her. She stays awake all night, crying softly as she imagines Krishna with Chandravali. ‘O cruel love, do you remember me at all as you make love to her? Or has she erased all memory of our love from your heart?’ Radha watches the moon through tearful eyes and finally when dawn breaks over the groves of Vrindavana, she goes out. There, standing in front of her, is Krishna, his chest marked with vermilion streaks, his lips red and swollen. ‘How he humiliated me by standing there, so openly showing the marks of his lovemaking on his body.’ Seething with rage Radha walks away though Krishna tries to placate her with loving words.

  The following day a sadhu comes to their house, begging. Radha’s mother-in-law and some young girls go out to give him some alms but he refuses. ‘I will only take food from a woman whose husband is living or else I will go away.’ The women, afraid of the sadhu’s wrath, cajole Radha to come out and give him some food.

  The sadhu looks at her and says, ‘No, you must give me what I want.’ Radha suddenly sees Krishna standing before her, dressed in saffron robes. Only she can recognize him.

  ‘Radha, Radha, give the holy man what he asks for,’ say all the women, agitated.

  Radha, bewildered, looks up at Krishna, ‘What is it that you want from me?’ she asks softly.

  ‘I want your pride,’ says Krishna.

  Radha, overwhelmed with love, bows her head. She can no longer be angry with her beloved. Krishna takes the offering of fruit from her hands and goes away, promising to meet her at midnight in the bower. Their secret is safe and Radha’s eternal dance of joy with Krishna, her divine love, continues in an endless cycle of Raas Leela.

  8

  ENJOYING GOD: THE DIVINE PARAMOUR

  MAKARAND R. PARANJAPE

  Meri bhavabaadhaa harau radha naagari soi

  Jaa tan ki jhaaim paraim syaama harit duti hoi.

  INTRODUCTION: THE RISE AND FALL OF RADHA

  SRI RADHA, KRISHNA’S soulmate and paramour, is a unique phenomenon in the religious and spiritual history not just of India but of the world.1 In no other tradition is there a female character quite like her, a humble milkmaid elevated to the supreme status of the erotic and holy beloved of the Supreme Godhead. What makes her story unique is that she is not mentioned in the classical sources or scriptures. Even later, during the medieval period, while the name of Radha occurs in various places, her rise to prominence as an important goddess alongside Krishna is actually a comparatively recent phenomenon. According to Charlotte Vaudeville (7), ‘Her emergence in the cultic and devotional sphere of Vaishnavism as Krishna Gopala’s beloved and shakti is known to have taken place rather late, certainly not much earlier than the 16th century.’

  In the Bhagavata Purana, the source of much of the later Krishna cult, there is no reference to Radha.2 The only clue to her identity is the single, unnamed girl with whom Krishna disappears in the Tenth Canto, which celebrates Krishna’s amours in the forest on the night of the full moon. While all the gopis cavort with Krishna in that scene, there is one he takes aside, much to the consternation, even dismay, of the others. Perhaps, that exceptional partner gave our medieval myth-makers the germ of the story of Radha which Jayadeva narrates in the Gita Govinda. As Guy L. Beck (72) notes:

  Within the entire Sanskrit canon that is accepted by normative Vaishnava traditions, Radha is actually never mentioned by name. In the earlier canonical texts there is only the suggestion of Radha’s character, not her actual name, as one of Krishna’s favorites among a number of ‘unmarried’ (Harivamsa) or ‘already married’ (Bhagavata Purana) cowherd girls (gopis) who nonetheless seek his attentions during his childhood life in Braj.

  Thus it is to Jayadeva and his remarkable Gita Govinda that the real credit for creating Radha goes. As Valerie Ritter (180) says:

  The Gita Govinda, a highly popular and influential Sanskrit poem by Jayadeva, thought to have been composed in the twelfth to thirteenth centuries CE, was the first to focus extensively on Radha, in a manner evocative of the courtly nayaka and nayika (hero and heroine) of Sanskrit poetry.

  But when Jayadeva makes her a full-fledged nayika, or heroine, of his most influential poem, Gita Govinda, it seems as if we have always ‘known’ or at least craved Radha’s presence, nay, predominance in the love story of Krishna.3

  Once created by Jayadeva, Radha steadily rose in importance as Krishna’s chosen paramour, partner, spouse (as she was later in the Radhavallabha sect), and thus the supreme Vaishnava goddess. Chaitanya Mahaprabhu (1486–1534), who gave the Krishna cult its decisive form, at least in much of northern India, contributed a great deal to the character and theology of Radha (Beck 180):

  Radha’s presence in poetry and her theological importance increased with the growth of the Caitanyite sect of Vaishnavism in Bengal, which saw the integration of poetic theory of the sringara rasa (the erotic sentiment) and its taxonomies of the nayaka-nayika with theology concerning the love of Radha and Krishna.

  But we cannot forget Jayadeva’s fundamental contribution to this apotheosis. According to Barbara Stoler Miller (quoted in Beck 73):

  The compounding of Krishna with Radha into a dual divinity is central to Jayadeva’s conception of Krishna, not as an incarnation (avatar) of Vishnu, but as the source (avatarin, dasavidharupa, dasakrtikrt) of all the incarnate forms he himself assumes in order to save the world.

  While the Gita Govinda institutionalized and legitimated Radha’s centrality in Vaishnavite Bhakti literature, her character, persona and role was further embellished and moulded by eastern Indian poets like Chandidas and Vidyapati, who created the platform for the great devotional and political upsurge marked by the advent of Chaitanya. But others, notably, Nimbarka, closer to Jayadeva, and Vallabha, around the same time as Chaitanya, also played a crucial role.4 Later, most of the great Krishna-worshipping poets such as Surdas also exalted Radha til
l she became almost secularized and universalized in the Ritikal with poets like Bihari (1595–1664).

  With the beginnings of modernity, Radha the goddess, underwent another drastic modification, now coming more often than not to represent illegitimate sexual desire. In the new puritanism fostered during the so-called Indian renaissance, Radha and her dalliance with Krishna proved an embarrassment to the agenda of social reform that the proponents of Hindu modernity espoused. Yet, Radha persisted in folk songs and, later, in many popular art and craft traditions. The final twist in the Radha tale was added by 20th-century feminists, who began to see in her a victim of the patriarchy or, even, the special symbol and voice of a male poet, as in Ramakanta Rath’s celebrated Sri Radha.5 Sometimes, Radha became a symbol of the degraded and exploited woman, or she was even depicted as a fallen or abandoned woman, her tale a cautionary reminder of what happens to such women in our society.

  All told, the story of Radha is extraordinary, not only in itself, but in the larger context of the history of Indian art, culture, religion and spirituality. The reasons for the rise of Radha are not merely historical, but theological, metaphysical and spiritual too. If such a methodology has explanatory power, then it may also account for the decline of Radha, to which I shall come later.

  RADHA’S PRIME

  It might be appropriate to glance, briefly, at Radha in all her glory in the middle of the 16th century. Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda has already been in circulation for nearly 400 years. Nimbarka and Vallabha have already accepted, even celebrated her, in their own compositions and in the theology of the church. But it is Chaitanya who really established the centrality of Radha in the worship of Krishna. As Graham M. Schweig observes (458):