"You're my god." Said Kans, looking at the pregnant belly of his sister, looking at the future that was predicted to kill him. How bad must the child be, if it had the potential of killing him. A murderer. A god.
"You're my god." Whispered Vasudev as he kissed the forehead of an infant, who was covered in blood from his mother's womb still and yet smiled prettily at his father. He had saved him from rain and flood. A rescuer. A god.
"You're my god." Said Yashoda, cradling him in her arms, laughing and kissing his dusky cheeks. She held him close to her chest and somehow, she felt her heart align with every giggle he let out. An enchanter. A god.
"You're my god." Said Nand, as he ruffled his son's hair that curled in ringlets that shined even in darkness. Yashoda had told him of their son's miracles. Universe in his mouth. Somehow, beyond his love for her, Nand believed her. His played with his fingers. A hope. A god.
"You're my god." Said Radha, laughing as he bowed in front of her with flowers of different colours and scents. Tears dried whenever he appeared. She flourished with him, her becoming simply more. A flash of mischievous smiles, and she was his. A melody. A god.
"You're my god." Said Ugrasen. Bones and frail flesh scarring, hands shaking as he was held. Dusky and smooth skin contrasted every silver scar he had and blood returned to his fingers once more. He stained his grandson's yellow clothes with his blood. A healer. A god.
"You're my god." Smiled Rukmini, an open secret between the two of them, eyes shining with love that none could see but him. His hands held her feet and helped her up. He led her, homeward bound once more. Home wasn't a palace, home was at his side. A love. A god.
"You're my god." Said Sudama, tears glistening in his eyes as he gazed at the shredded skin of his friend's feet. Blood that rewrote everything that Sudama ever had been, blood that bled when words failed. A shelter. A god.
"You're my god." Said Arjun, meeting a cousin he never wished to part from, recently married and aching raw. Morals broken, vow forsaken. A hand held him up, a shoulder to lean on. A saviour. A god.
"You're my god." Said Yudhisthir as he knelt before a throne of his own, blood on his hands of those who lived before him. Blood stained hands washed the feet of the man who was the reason the throne was built. A kingmaker. A god.
"You're my god." Draupadi sobbed in his arms, bruises littering her face and arms, lip burst and forehead cut. At his feet, reverently cursing all and blessing him all the same. Lonely, inviting death with every word. A protector. A god.
"You're my god." Gandhari wailed, an accusation on her lips and tears coming to her throat. Blood dripped down her knuckles from where she had hit him fruitlessly. Her words, punctured and breaths shallow, all but dead. A killer. A god.
"You're my god." Balram tells him, calm and serene. So unlike everything they saw in their mortal lives. His clothes suffocate his skin almost beautifully and the sunset is something to watch. He's not watched the sunset since he was six, he thinks. He's not properly felt the sunset in this lifetime.
He smiles at his younger brother. The brother he was supposed to protect. The accusations still make ugly scars on his skin and Balram wants to accuse them all back for a moment. They never knew his god. None of them, except his Mata, knew his god. So serene, so calm, so wise, so innocent. His god is everything and anything and nothing at once.
They don't know what godhood is.
And as Balram leaves his body to return to his abode once more, he wishes they knew better. He wishes they didn't claim to know godhood or his god.
He waits to be reunited with his god and goddess again.
