Lord Krishna

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Lord Krishna
Hi i had a book idea once for Satybhama. The wip has been abandoned since 2021 but here you go. I wrote this in 2021.
The Great War is over. My husband, Krishna, has left the earth. Dwarka has sunk, and my sons and grandsons have perished in the civil war. Some of my sister queens have jumped into the fire and the rest have busied themselves in meditation in various corners of this forest where I live. I can’t find them though.
Tall trees and thick bushes are the only things my eyes can see around. There is absolutely no human living beside me or in my vicinity. Here, the only edible items are fruits and tubers, which taste heavenly. Some years before, I would have grimaced at the mere thought of living on fruits in a forest due to my upbringing and royal status. It never fails to amaze me how time changes everything. A city once ruled by a tyrant is brought down and a city built by the finest of architects gets submerged under a sea getting lost to time and history forever. Time is indeed the ultimate killer. No one can escape it.
I am currently sitting under a Neelmohar tree. Maybe it is their growing season, for the tree is filled with purple flowers. Many of them are lying near my feet. I pick one and gently rub my thumb across one of its petals. The colour reminds me of my purple saree, which Krishna had gifted me, and the flower’s softness reminds me of the saree’s beautiful texture. The saree must be in the seabed now, drifting along the sea-waves. Bhadra loved that saree and would shower me with compliments whenever I wore it.
Dwarka — my second home, where I have spent almost all my life, now lies under the sea, hidden from sight. The once tall buildings where I once walked, the beautiful gardens where Krishna and I spent some lovely times, the archery room which Krishna had specifically built for me, everything now exists in my brain like an old dream. I do not remember how much time has passed since Krishna’s death and the submerging of Dwarka. All the time that I have spent in this forest has been devoted to contemplation about my life.
What is there to contemplate about my life? Do I contemplate about the riches I was brought up with? Do I think about the domestic tensions of my household? Do I wonder about the coming Kali Yuga?
There is so much to think about. What did I do in my life? What will happen once my soul leaves my body? Will someone mourn for me? Will I find Krishna smiling with his perfect rosy lips and pearly teeth in the afterlife? Is there even something beyond death? Wise men say that death is not the end, is it not? These are philosophical questions that Krishna would have answered had he been with me here. Now as I am talking to you, I wonder about my memories which appear in front of my eyes as if belonging to an old dream.
I see my childhood self, running on the corridors of my father’s home with my friends. The scene changes where I find myself aged a little older — I am probably fifteen there, I think. There is a bow in my hand and I am assessing the target ahead. Once again, the scene changes and I can see a marriage ceremony followed by the war and the end of Dwarka. But memories resurface again as if asking to look beyond the mundane. I can hear a voice inside me, whispering, ‘There is more to your story; you must go through it all.’
Now I see something else. There is my father’s house standing tall and proud, and a little girl is playing in the mud while looking at the flower bushes in wonder. I see my mother in a temple where I ask about the goddess Durga. My childhood memory flutters away and my teenaged form arrives. I am young, curious and hot-headed. I am travelling alone in Mathura where I see the exact condition of the people residing. It is pathetic. I see myself now as a wedded woman in the kitchen chatting happily with my sister queens about the day. Now I see my lord, my Krishna, putting flowers in my hair while we talk about the sea. He says, ‘Water when demure nourishes the land, bringing us delight and when water turns wild and frightening, it shall engulf all leaving not even remains behind.’
I realize everything. My life’s story does not start with archery, nor does it end with Dwarka. It starts with me being a curious child trying to understand nature and men, and my story is still incomplete.
“Who am I, mother?” I had raised this question once when I stared into a mirror for a long time, finding my reflection slightly different. I realize I never found the answer.
Who am I now? Who shall answer me?
My mother once told me that there are some questions whose answers lie within our hearts. One must introspect over it and they shall find the answer that has been hiding in their heart all along.
I can feel my heartbeat quicken its pace. My mind is busy with its chain of memories arranging themselves haphazardly. Each incident whispers its lessons to my ears and I feel overwhelmed. I want to share my thoughts with someone. Do you want to listen to me?
I will cease to exist after some time. Historians, poets, and scribes will write stories about me that will be read and heard by people across the world. Fame isn’t my concern nor my desire, for I have had a good share of it. The only thing that concerns me is will the Satyabhama in their scripts be me? How much of my life will they write about? What will they include and exclude? How much of my actions will be overdramatized if by any chance someone gains enough liberty to do so? My life story can even turn into a mythical story, and only I would know that I once existed in bones and muscles.
So before you read and hear about me, I want you to hear me speak about my life, Satyabhama’s life. Here, I promise you that I shall present my story with complete honesty. Satyabhama is my name, which means ‘beaming with truth.’ I promise to be true to myself and you.
Would you like to hear?
This is how it begins…
Taglist: @jessbeinme15 @swayamev @just-another-godless-god @merapehlapyaarwaapasaagaya @pokemon-master-elita @svapnakalpa-mareechi @ma-douce-souffrance @eugenephosgene @savlon-bhoi @arachneofthoughts @reallythoughtfulwizard
Dwarkadisha as Mohini, Dwaraka, Gujarat
May I request a story with my boi Krishna pleeeaaase?
this is about my boi Krishna, who is actually a socialist and vehemently hates capitalism. yes it involves bloodshed.
Yes, this is about the mythical Syamantak Mani.
The story starts with the wealthiest merchant in Dwarka, Satrajit. Imagine Jeff Bezos, but not as politically powerful or cruel. This dude was an ardent devotee of Lord Surya, the Sun God. One day, while he was walking along the beach, Surya decided to spook him for fun by appearing before him spontaneously in a flash, to which Satrajit responded by lying down before him. Since this was an awkward situation (imagine Jeff Bezos bowing to the Human Torch in the middle of a beach on a Sunday morning), Surya offered him a boon, and Satrajit, our greedy clever little merchant, asked for Surya's necklace - the Syamantak Mani.
Now this was a 170 pound solid gold necklace, embedded within which was the mani (gem)(legend says that the Koh-i-Noor diamond is a fragment of that mani, but instead cursed following Gandhari's wrath). Whoever possessed the necklace, woke up to a shower of gold coins each day. The land where this person would live would become the richest, most prosperous and happy land anywhere, and the person themselves would become the richest human ever.
Rumours reached Krishna's ears about Satrajit's legendary wealth, and he himself inspected the situation. Since Krishna was a good person and did not believe in the concentration of power* or money in the hands of an individual, he demanded that Satrajit give up the Syamantaka Mani to the Yadava council treasury, so that it could be used for the common good. We all know where this leads too. The necklace was given to Satrajit's brother Prasena promptly for safekeeping. Proof that shitty audaciously rich bussinessfolk have endured since ere.
Prasena had a stone for a brain, for he wore that necklace while hunting in the forest (yes. he wore a 170 pound gold necklace which grants eternal fortune. while hunting). Sadly, he was eaten by a lion which ran away with the necklace. The lion in turn was killed by Jambavanta, the immortal Emperor of Bears, who took the necklace for himself.
Meanwhile, there was uproar in Dwarka when people got to know of Prasena's death. Satrajit immediately accused Krishna of his brother's "murder" (bitch that's what you get for giving your necklace to a knucklehead), and Krishna was produced before the Yadava Council. Krishna, flipping everyone off, said "You dumb cucks. Imma show you who did it. Heck imma even bring the cursed necklace back. So long bitches." and then set off on an epic quest to find the necklace. All this time, he was being stalked by Satrajit's daughter Satyabhama, who was heels over heads in love with him.
Krishna followed Prasena's trail, then the lion's trail, and then talked to some monkeys who told him that they saw a cave glowing. Krishna, approached said cave, where he saw Jambavanta's young cub chewing on the necklace. (why. was that kid dumb enough to not know it was not chocolate?) Anyway Krishna was sneaking away with the necklace when Jambavanta "caught" him. They fought for a month (idk how) over the gem, when finally the tired Jambavanta accepted his defeat and gave over the necklace. Krishna was also married on the spot to Jambavanta's daughter Jambavanti, to cement an alliance between Dwaraka and the bear kingdom.
Krishna returned back after a month, victorious, and all charges against him were dropped. Satrajit was remorseful when he heard what actually happened with his brother, and apologized to Krishna, allowing him to keep the necklace and even married him to his daughter (yes the one who had stalked him in Dwaraka), Satyabhama.
Yay happy ending. No you dumb bitch we haven't reached the bloodshed part.
Krishna though didn't keep the necklace. He gave it back to Satrajit since it was his "divine property" and just instead increased his taxes by like 1000%. Now, at the same time, the Pandavas had escaped from Varnavata, where they were almost burnt alive in their newly constructed summer palace (made of wax. Madame Tussaud's somewhere turning in her grave). Krishna went to meet the Pandavas, and immediately Satrajit's enemies took use of this opportunity. They murdered Satrajit in his sleep, robbed his house and the Syamantak Mani. The main culprits were Satadhanwa and Akrura. Satyabhama immediately rushed to Hastinapur where she approached Krishna for vengeance. Krishna pursued Satadhanwa, and then killed him near Mithila. Only, he didn't posses the gem. Akrura had stolen the gem for himself and fled to Kashi. Akrura was brought back to Dwaraka in chains and apprehended, where he plead guilty. He was made a political prisoner for life, and the necklace was returned to the Yadava treasury.
PHEW THIS WAS LONG
*The Yadavas were a democratic community with no single king, and instead a committee and council of different factions, clans and people of all backgrounds.
Love so pure that even in the darkest times our heart is syncing. One is Radha and the other is Krishna , their love is endless and boundless they are pure form of live with simplicity and storms which they eliminate together from the heart , in the heart, of the heart and for the heart.
I always feel safe and emotional whenever i think of their love . I never witnessed but my heart feels nostalgic as if my soul did witnessed them their love and their separation yet .
Lord krishna is known as a perfect yogi , being an avatar of Bhagwan Vishnu, he was master at pure love . His heart is lovesick yet he can control his desires perfectly.
He gave all the love to them who loved him . He stayed with them who desired him .
To this day , he plays cupids for the lovers . Helps the one who needs him and yet he never asked for what he wants , so selfless he is .
And when the time comes if i ever get to see him either here or elsewhere i would ask him what he wants , what he desires , whom he desires , although i know the answer i will still ask him so that i could fulfill his wants . I wonder how he feels how he thinks and how much he misses his past times .
Sri Dwarakadish, Gujarat
Krishna Paramathma