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Love Stories from The Mahabharata  
Parikshit and Sushobhana – 8

For a moment Parikshit remains silent. The look in his eyes grows deeper. Then he invites in a voice full of love,

“Not in the bejewelled palace, but in the chamber of my heart – welcome, lovely lady.  Make my life blessed by granting me love.”
Vina in hand the woman stands up. “I demand a vow, king.”
“Speak!”
“In my life you will never show me the waters of a lake.”
“Why?”
“There is a curse in my life. If on any other day I happen to see my reflection in the waters of a lake, that day I shall die.”
“Remove all fears of the curse, youthful beauty. You will live as the immutable focus of endless celebrations in my inner apartments. You will never have to go near any lake.”

In the recesses of the scintillating bejewelled pleasure-chamber, every moment of Parikshit’s love-steeped days and nights lies overwhelmed by Sushobhana’s dance, song, coquetry and kisses. In this way, one day, in the twilight hour of a Baishakh evening, a dazzling white kaumudi bud was blown from the moonlit sky into that pleasure-chamber. That day King Parikshit did not light the gem-encrusted lamp.  In the cool moonlight he kept gazing lovingly at the face of that cloud-dark haired beloved. Parikshit feels that this picture is no less beautiful than that of the moon in the sky. Like the marks on the full moon, black curls have cast shadows on the forehead of this lovely woman too.

With great care, with his own hands Parikshit keeps arranging the curls on the woman’s forehead. Holding Sushobhana’s hand, he whispers gently into the woman’s ears, like the half-uttered sigh of a seashell,

“Beloved!”
The eyes of the coquettish woman suddenly brighten like the bejewelled lamp: “What do you wish to say, O king?”
“Dearest, you are not the heroine of the palace of my heart alone.  You are the quintessence of this palace of my life. After so very long, a lovely lamp of love has lit up the craving of my desire. That is why, even putting out the begemmed lamp, I want see only with my heart how beautiful you are.”

The coquette’s lips curve in a smile. At last King Parikshit has grown intimate. The lust of the prince for playing with lissom bodies has matured into sincere love. Giving his heart to an unknown woman, Parikshit wishes to make her his own forever.

Holding Parikshit’s hand the playful woman suddenly bursts out impulsively,

“My heart does not wish to stay indoors on such a Baishakh evening flooded in moonlight, dearest. Let us go to your garden.”

Adorning her lovely form in gleaming white royal raiment, veiling her hair with a net encrusted with tiny crystals, her neck garlanded with white flowers, excited like sporting white swans bathed in the moonlight, Sushobhana entered the garden with the king. Looking at Parikshit’s face she demands,

 “Today my heart desires, O king, that sporting in the water like a swan I delight your sight.”
“Do so, beloved.”

King Parikshit comes and stands beside the shore of a lake in the garden. With him is Sushobhana.

– Continued

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