Satyabhama

4 years ago

proteeti

@sambhavami

Satyabhama, the daughter of Satrajit; the most beautiful maiden in the three worlds stood awestruck behind a curtain of vines staring as her brothers led Krishna, the newfound Yadava prince towards the Sun temple in her father's quarters. She had heard the rumours, but never imagined he would be this handsome! As he walked up the long hallway, she ran parallelly carefully concealing herself behind the twisted vines. She felt her heart skipping a beat every time he threw back his head, laughing at a rogue joke, or carelessly adjusted the crown on his head that stubbornly kept slipping down.

She had often found herself at the centre of showers of praise, as others raved upon her unparalleled beauty. Every man who visited her father, old or young, was usually left slack-jawed upon seeing her. They would bring her expensive gifts, dresses and jewellery from faraway lands, waiting hours for even a half-hearted smile. Her father was relentlessly badgered with a never-ending stream of suitors asking for her hand. Sometimes, they would even ambush Satyabhama in a garden or at the temples. Satyabhama would smile and turn all of them down. After all, her father had promised not to marry her off without her consent.

Usually, she enjoyed all the attention she received, yet after seeing Krishna she was bewildered. "Sakhe, devis and apsaras from the heavens must be lining up to have but a glimpse of him, and here I am, being so close but could not still fall at his feet! Oh, how wasteful must be my beauty for he did not even throw a careless glance at me, and admired only the wretched Syamantaka!" She cried, back in the privacy of her personal grove. Her maids gasped at her comments, "Satye, hush your voice! That what you call the wretched gem is the source of your father's pride! You have clearly lost yourself in your pining, for you do not know anymore what is right and what is wrong!" They admonished her.

Satyabhama knew very well of the blessings of the magical gem. Her father had been a lowly accountant in Mathura during Kamsa's reign. Only after he had found this gem on a hunt of his, had their family found their fortune. Now, her father had become the richest non-royal in the kingdom, which had earned him a place in the parliament as well! Still, she couldn't help but feel jealous of it. "I don't know how but I will marry him! By hook or by crook!" She announced, as she stormed off, throwing an invaluable necklace against the wall, which promptly broke, scattering hundreds of pearls across the floor.

---

"Krishna! Huh, that cowherd prat! I saw the greed in his eyes when he ogled at my gem! Give it to me for safeguarding. Safeguarding, my foot! I had refused him then and there! I'm telling you he is the one who stole it!" Satrajit shouted at Krishna, the next morning. The magical gem had gone missing the previous night. Satrajit had openly accused Krishna of stealing it when the latter had come to offer support for retrieving it.

Balarama, the elder prince, roared in anger. Krishna stood holding Balarama back with all his strength it seemed. Gasping, Satyabhama retraced a few steps. How could he?! What had she heard the previous night then? Behind the heavy curtains at the entrance to her father's chambers? She looked at Krishna. He looked more hurt than angry. He was shaking his head, trying wordlessly to communicate his innocence.

Making up her mind, Satyabhama wiped her tears as she ran towards the main exit and waited behind an elephant-shaped bush. Soon Krishna and his brother stormed out. Thinking fast, she threw a flower in his direction. Stopping in his tracks, Krishna gestured for the rest of their party to move ahead while he approached the elephant. For a moment she almost turned on her heels, but steadied her feet and steeled her heart. Pulling him close behind a pillar, she whispered, "I don't know if this will help, but my father is lying. Please don't make me speak against him, I cannot stoop any lower." Krishna was staring at her silently. Gulping, she continued, "Yesterday night my father gave the Syamantaka to my Uncle Prasena."

Krishna nodded seriously, "Where do I find him?"

"Go towards the Eastern forests. He likes to go hunting there. He must be there. And..." She dropped her head in shame.

Krishna smiled at her kindly as he whispered, "That's enough for me, Satyabhame. I promise to keep your honour. I will take care of this; you just wait for me."

---

So, she waited. Krishna left for the forests with his friends and brothers. The official story was that they too were going hunting. Only she knew why they actually went into the Eastern forest. With bated breath, she lay awake the entire night, tossing and turning, pondering whether to confront her father or not. Surely, once Krishna tracked down Uncle Prasena, it'll all be good? However, after the cruel words that her father had spoken to Krishna, Satyabhama seriously doubted the possibility of her ever getting close to him. Surely he wouldn't want to do anything to do with her!

The next day, Krishna returned with the corpse of her Uncle Prasena. He had been mauled by a lion on his hunt. The gem remained lost. Either the lion had carried it off or someone had stolen it off the poor man's body. Satyabhama could barely hold in her emotions. She wasn't very close to her Uncle, but she could see this absolutely crushed her father. He was inconsolable. Krishna stood off to a corner of the salon as Satrajit screamed clutching his brother's body to his chest. Then he turned towards Krishna, "You! You killed him, didn't you? You found him in the forest and killed him, then passed on the blame to a voiceless animal!" Turning to his family he moaned, "You all see my Prasena, don't you? How can a mere animal cause so much damage to a skilled hunter? Haven't we all heard about Krishna's magic? That weapon he has, what do you call it? A chakra?! He must've killed my brother and hid my Syamantaka somewhere, and now he's come to offer his phoney condolences!"

Satyabhama felt her throat clench as her eyes met Krishna's. She felt a profound pain sear through her chest as she saw the look of pure dejection on Krishna's face. Looking around, she was horrified to see that even Krishna's own royal guards were eyeing him with suspicion. Looking back, she realized Krishna had understood the same. His expression had turned steely, as he spoke directly to her father, "I have not taken your gem, Srimanta. I am excusing this offense because I respect the grief that clouds your judgment. If this gem is so important to you, that you would attack my reputation so flippantly, then I will bring it back for you." With that, he turned and walked out of their house.

From her friends, Satyabhama learned that he had walked into the deep forest only with a select group of friends. She cursed herself when she learnt that he had refused to eat or drink anything at home till he found the gem and brought it back. What's more, he had had a huge fight with his brother, who also grew suspicious after the whole ordeal. After all, Krishna did have a reputation for thievery, even as a child, or so people said!

As the days turned into nights, Satyabhama found the urge to just go to either Krishna's brother or his wife and confess nearly irresistible. She stopped herself only with the thought that this would utterly destroy her father's reputation, and Prince Balarama would definitely murder him for maligning his little brother's reputation. Her nights were marred by spotty sleep and nightmares. Most nights, she just spent staring out into the night sky.

Every day, Satyabhama went to the royal temple. She spent many minutes just standing outside the main hall, staring at Princess Rukmini, Krishna's wife, and the fair Princess Revati, Balarama's wife, sitting before the Goddess's idol, both praying incessantly. Satyabhama, overcome by shame, would offer her prayers from outside the temple and return to pray at length in the privacy of her own room.

One day, one of the princess's attendants beckoned Satyabhama into the temple's prayer room. It was a small private chamber from where the queens and princesses preferred to attend the worship meetings during public festivals, away from the prying eyes of the citizens. Satyabhama had never been invited to this private room, though she always attended such festivals surrounded by bodyguards. She found Rukmini, wearing a flowing wine-red saree, adorning only the auspicious necklace and nose ring.

"I'm sorry-" Satyabhama started, but was stopped by Rukmini as she raised a hand to call for silence. After dismissing all her attendants, she spoke, "I see you return every day without offering your prayers inside the temple. Are you ashamed? Why, did you do this? Nevertheless, this is a public temple, you have as much a right to pray to the Mother Goddess as me." Satyabhama nodded silently.

Rukmini continued, "I have only one question for you. Did your father lie?"

Satyabhama lowered her head in shame, plucking at the hard ground with her fingernails. She was much taller than the princess but she suddenly felt so small before her. Slowly, she nodded her head up and down. Then, she looked up to meet the princess's eyes. She was surprised to see not reproach but sympathy in her eyes.

Rukmini sighed, "It hurts the worst when your family lets you down, doesn't it? And you still just cannot give up on them, even though at some point you must, right?" Satyabhama was taken aback by her response. How did she know that Satyabhama was not also a part of her family's conspiracy? How did the princess say out loud the exact thing she herself was thinking?

Rukmini sniffled, "I won't make you come forward, but if you choose to do so, and in doing so lose your family, remember, I will always have a room for you in the palace."

With a gentle caress on her shoulder, the princess left, leaving Satyabhama in deep thought.

---

After eight days, all of Krishna's friends returned. Without him. Her heart trembling, Satyabhama watched as they relayed the news of losing him there. They had waited in front of a dark cave for eight whole days, where Krishna had insisted on leaving them behind. Finally, they had lost hope and returned. She watched as her father remained torn, as his paternal instincts clicked and he pondered what a terrible fate he had sent a young boy to suffer. Clutching onto a minuscule sliver of hope, however, she waited.

After her conversation with Rukmini, she ensured to visit the temple every day, offering, rather begging, the Goddess to keep him safe. Today, she walked into the temple, to find Rukmini seated before the idol. She wasn't praying anymore, she sat there staring into the distance. Before her, was laid a sole diya, flickering happily. Satyabhama realized with some shock that the princess was wearing the same saree as the last day. Had she not even moved from her seat since then?

She sat down beside the princess, cautiously laying a hand on her shoulder. Rukmini jolted as if waking from a dream. "Why did you send him there?" She asked, tears streaking her face. Satyabhama found herself at a loss for words. Rukmini cleared her throat, as if just realizing who she talking to, "Sorry, didn't mean to accuse you. You lot might given up on him, but I know him! I've seen him in a fight! Well," She laughed, "Good luck to his enemies! I'm just worried, you know. He is so finicky, with his food and the bedding and room decor! I wonder how he must be managing wherever he is stuck! And..." she trailed off, laying a hand longingly on her belly.

Suddenly, it hit Satybhama. The princess was expecting! "Does he know?" She whispered. Rukmini shook her head, "I thought I'd tell him, once this Syamantaka nonsense blew over. But now, who knows when his highness will brighten our doorsteps! All I can do is pray, right?"

Satyabhama nodded. She was happy for Krishna and the princess, but could also not ignore a pang of jealousy. Surely, if he was already a father, he would not want to marry again? Even if he did, would the princess allow it? Surely, she would have some sway on his decisions now, as mother of his firstborn? Shaking off these thoughts, she whispered, "But, then, princess, shouldn't you be resting, in such a delicate condition?"

Rukmini smiled, "I know. I just made this vow to the Goddess, that this diya shall not be extinguished till Krishna has brought back the gem successfully."

Satyabhama thought for a second. Then, she smiled. "You vowed, the diya must not be extinguished. Not that you have to sit here pouring oil into it day and night!" Clasping the princess's palms, she said, "Let me: it's the least I can do!"

Rukmini peered into her eyes, finally nodding weakly.

As the princess left, Satyabhama was left alone in the temple, surrounded only by her thoughts, as she poked occasionally at the wick of the diya. Then it hit her, she had really let Krishna just walk into whatever danger lay in wait for him, instead of coming forward and clearing his name. The princess might not blame her, but how could she forgive herself? Satyabhama found herself rapidly chanting all the prayers that she knew, some to the Goddess, some to the lamp. She would never even talk to Krishna again, she wouldn't be jealous even if he had a hundred more wives, she would retire to the forest if necessary, only if the Goddess returned him to his wife safe and sound. Satyabhama imagined Rukmini telling Krishna about their unborn child. She could almost feel the tears of joy that Krishna would shed at the news! Only if he would not dally this way, causing pain to all who loved him, and return at the earliest!

After twenty and one agonizing days, the drums at the gate of Dwarika sounded again.

"He has come!"

"Victorious at last!"

Ripples of this jaya-dhhwani tore apart the grief in the sky of the city as laughter and happiness cascaded down the ether and down Satyabhama's cheeks. He had returned at last. Glorious, the Syamantaka bouncing off his chest, tied in a flowery garland, his new wife in his arms. Strangely opposed to her daydreams, Satyabhama did not feel even a hint of jealousy. Instead, she joined Rukmini, the crown princess, as they shed tears of overwhelming joy together and rushed in unison to witness this triumph of the man that they had both accepted as their Lord.

In a special parliament meeting, Krishna explained his delay and relayed the full account of his adventures. They had ventured into the Eastern forest to find Prasena. Instead, they had found his mangled, lifeless body. A lion had attacked him mid-hunt, killed him and ripped his right arm off along with a jewel clenched in it. A few miles further, they had found the carcass of a lion, and following strange foot-marks had found the entrance to the land of Jambavan, the king of the Bears. Krishna had left his companions at this gate and ventured in alone. Satyabhama sat close to her father, listening enraptured to this fascinating tale. Slightly amused, she noticed, Balarama had an arm around Krishna's waist. He still seemed pretty shaken from the ordeal. It seemed as though he did not want to let him go out of his sight again.

He continued his story. Inside the cave, he had been challenged to a duel by King Jambavan and after a furious battle of twenty-eight days, he had finally defeated the bear-king and returned with the gem and princess Jambavati. His friends had returned after only eight days, thinking him to be a lost cause. Satyabhama was mildly annoyed at this but decided to stay quiet so as to not draw any further attention to her already guilty father.

Right as the sabha broke up, her father took Satyabhama's hand and led her to Krishna and requested his attention. Krishna smiled back at them with not even the slightest hint of anger or gripe.

"Please my son, Krishna," said Satrajit, "Accept this gem. I do not deserve to be the owner of this. Not after all I put you through!"

Krishna shook his head, laughing shyly. "Please, Sir. You keep it. I have no interest in keeping it. I only asked to take it to safeguard it in the royal treasury. But I have understood now, nobody can take it from your home unless you yourself are willing."

Satrajit folded his hands, "Taunt me as much as you like. I deserve it, but please let me do something! Yes! Accept my daughter's hand in marriage then?!" Satyabhama was stunned. She had all but given up on the idea by now. "Please, my child. I will not consider myself forgiven unless you accept her!"

Krishna turned to her with an incredulous expression as she felt herself go beet red. In shame, she hid her face in her palms.

"You too, Satyabhama?!" He cooed, laughing a little. "Guess you truly are the better gem in your father's house! Mind coming to mine?" Blushing she vigorously nodded her head as her father enclosed her hands in his.