FIFTY-NINE
On Dwaraka, also, it was pouring. Waves climbed over the outer walls and spilled into the streets of the city of miracles, which the Devas had raised in the sea for the Avatara. Krishna was with his wife Satyabhama tonight. It was past midnight and they lay together, after love.
Then Krishna grew restless. He rose and paced the room; often going to the windows that looked out at the lashing storm outside. Satyabhama lay quiescent, watching him. Suddenly her unpredictable husband began to laugh.
"What is it, Krishna?"
"I was thinking what love does to the greatest men. My valiant cousin Arjuna has been on a pilgrimage throughout Bharatavarsha. He has purified himself at all the holiest tirthas and now he has come to Prabhasa disguised as a yati, his beard down to his chest and jata hanging to his shoulders.
The mighty Pandava sits under an old banyan tree, soaked to the bone and staring at the sea. But it isn't a call of the spirit that has brought him to Prabhasa." He smiled in the dark, "I fear he is unhinged with love and too shy to come seeking love's satisfaction here, in Dwaraka. So he sits drenched in the storm and calls for my help."
"Whom does he love in Dwaraka?"
"My sister Subhadra, about whom Gada told him when he was a boy and he has never forgotten her. Poor Arjuna suffers; let me go to him and put an end to his misery."
"Now?"
"What better time?"
He pulled on his clothes and kissing her stole out into the squally night. Satyabhama sighed, but knew better than to protest or worry about him. She turned on her side and was soon asleep.
Thunder and lightning gashed the midnight sky over Prabhasa and Arjuna sat numb in the furious storm. He hardly saw the jagged whiplashes of lightning; he barely heard the heartstopping thunder. He did not mind the walls of rain that fell from the dark sky and breached the canopy of his tree. Once he began to think of Krishna, Arjuna found he had some respite from the relentless visions of Subhadra that tormented him.
A towering bolt of blue lightning briefly connected sky and earth. It fell into the sea, lighting up the swollen waves for an electric moment. Then, all was darkness again and the thunder, which followed on winged heels of the serpent lightning, erupted among the clouds. When the last echoes of that awesome peal died, out of the perfectly black night a voice spoke to Arjuna, "I wonder, cousin, if your thoughts really suit your hermit's garb!" and the familiar laugh, full of tender mockery.
"Krishna!"
Arjuna jumped up and, next moment, they were hugging each other in the storm.
Arjuna cried, "So at last you heard I was here."
Krishna murmured, "I couldn't sleep for hearing you call me."
Seeing the amazed look on the Pandava's face, he laughed and hugged him again. Now Arjuna did not shiver with the wind that ripped across sea and land, but with the thought that his uncanny cousin may have known his other, more intimate fantasies.
"But come, we can't stand out here all night. Let me bring you closer to Dwaraka, though not yet to the city, not until tomorrow."
The Pandava allowed himself to be led to the gleaming chariot that stood nearby, a chariot he could not fathom, this night or ever. He had often imagined it flashed not only over land, but flitted through the air, as if the exotic thing belonged to another order of reality. Yet, he could never be quite certain.
They came to the Raivataka, to the side of the hill away from the storm and the sea. Krishna led Arjuna to a dry cave and settled him there.
"For another night, then; tomorrow you will come to Dwaraka. But first, there is someone I would like you to see, here on Raivataka." Krishna's eyes twinkled at the Pandava. "Someone I rather think you want to see yourself."
He would say no more however Arjuna pressed him. Yawning and saying that he was no yati and Satyabhama would be waiting for him in bed, Krishna went off into the night. Exhausted, but at peace, Arjuna fell asleep in the cave. He dreamt all night of a young woman he had never seen before.
When he awoke the next morning, Arjuna went down to a stream that sprang nearby. He bathed in the crisp water and, standing in the swift flow, performed Suryanamaskara. As he left the stream, he heard voices round the corner of a rough trail that wound its way to the summit of Raivataka. They were full of cheer that the sky had cleared so miraculously; last night, they had been certain there would be no feast today.
"Krishna made the storm pass!" said one young man who had come to prepare for the feast.
Arjuna hid from the Yadavas. He skirted the path and climbed above them. He hid behind a boulder perched conveniently above the flat clearing where the feast was to be. He sat watching the Vrishnis at their outing. The view from here was spectacular, out over a smoky sea stretching away to the curved horizon. The air had been washed so clean by the night's rain, Arjuna fancied he could see out of this world into other realms.
The clearing below him, on the hill's broad shoulder, was obviously a favorite spot for the Yadavas. There was a temple at the heart of the clearing and around it pavilions for a banquet in the open. There were rows of stone tables and seats, on which the servants sent in advance now laid plates of silver and cushions of down and silk. Other Yadavas arrived and, with them, mule-carts laden with piles of fragrant food. Quickly, the tables were heaped with all sorts of delicacies, as the mild sun rose higher.
Arjuna heard singing round the corner of the path and the tinkling of women's anklets. Peering around his rock, he saw a small throng of Yadava women. They were dressed for the occasion and carried lamps and offerings for the deity in the little temple. They were resplendent in the sun. When Arjuna saw the young woman who led the others up the winding path, his chest grew tight and he felt short of breath. She pierced him like a streak of last night's lightning. All his daydreams about Subhadra vanished: Arjuna was on fire for this young beauty, whoever she was.
The Pandava almost fell on to the path when, suddenly, a laconic voice said behind him, "I fear, my good Yati, the thoughts in your heart don't suit your hermit's garb at all."
Krishna stood smiling at him. How he had climbed here, Arjuna could not imagine. The only way was the one by which the Pandava had hauled himself up; and he would certainly have seen his cousin if he had come that way. Behind Arjuna's back was a sheer cliff that fell a hundred feet. But this was Krishna and one quickly learnt not to inquire too closely what he did, or how. Moreover, Arjuna only had just the one question that came tumbling out the moment he saw Krishna.
"Who is she?" he whispered desperately.
"Who?" asked Krishna, innocently.
"She who leads the puja," breathed the Pandava.
Krishna laughed softly. "That is my half-sister Subhadra. She is Balarama's sister. You like her, do you, Arjuna?"
Arjuna clutched Krishna's hand and said hoarsely, "I love her! I love her so much it makes me mad just to look at her. I feel as if my body and soul are on fire. I must marry her, Krishna and you must help me."
Arjuna's eyes never left the lovely Subhadra below, as she performed the arati to the God in the temple. Krishna smiled, "Ah, poor Yati, you are truly lost. I will help you, isn't that my dharma? Come, climb down from here when no one can see you and go back to your cave. Sit there in dhyana, deep dhyana, Yati!" He paused. "Until you are discovered. Then be brave: give no sign of who you are to anyone or your cause is lost. Not even Balarama will recognize you as long as you do not give yourself away. Be perfectly calm, Arjuna and watch what happens."
The Blue One gave a sigh. "After all, of the different kinds of marriage, the one of love is the highest. You cousin, must make her fall in love with you, as you have with her. I will go and mingle with the others. You sit very still in your cave, with your eyes shut, as if you have seen or heard nothing. Lost in samadhi, Arjuna, which should not be too hard, seeing how you have someone to meditate on now.
My brother Balarama is the man for you, he can never resist a holy yati."