Come, beloved.

Let's talk.

Tonight my heart is going places

My body sits here, on the bed of ketaki flowers

Yet my soul traverses lands and oceans known and unknown

Near and far.

Sit, Krishna.

Let's talk.

It's one of those nights

Not idealistic, like the ones described in the lyrical Gita Govinda

But realistic, you know?

There's no full moon

Crickets don't chirp

And the city chokes our throats.

Yet

It's a night.

Our night.

I'm weeping

I'm reeling

Oh, the things I feel

Haunting me in the secret chambers of my body

Is love unexpressed

Suppressed by the mortal duties

I bear on my tender frame.

I'll tell you about my travels tonight.

How each night

Each sleep

Takes me to unknown lands

I see creatures that I've read in books alone

And sit amongst flowers that only the Lord's heaven can enshrine

I never feel like waking up

But like I said

Mortal duties

On my tender frame.

Tell me about your travels, Krishna.

Yes, I've heard them

So many times

That I can recite them

Like hymns engraved on stone slabs

But I'd hear you still

Your valour, unparalled when you took the evil Kansa down

And how you earned the name of beloved Ranchhod-Rai

How you constructed your prized Dwaraka

And don't even get me started on your weddings.

You've always loved

An element of drama.

I often need to vent

Too much happiness

Or too much gloom

Gets overwhelming

You listen, with that everlasting,

Mystic smile.

Nobody asks you if you're okay, Krishna

Which is why

I'm here

And so are my arms

And ears.

I will listen

To what you cherish

And what you regret

For societal expectations from a man are high

From a woman as me, higher

But the same from a God are highest.

The dawn is cracking

I see the sun god on his chariot

Evilly grinning at me

We talked a lot today, Krishna

Visit me again tomorrow?

It's time for me

To get up.

Like I said

Mortal duties...

On my tender frame...