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Love Stories from The Mahabharata  
Sumukh and Gunakeshi – 5

Suddenly, Gunakeshi starts, as if having realised what is passing in her mind. In the depths of her heart, in the waters of a lake is floating the face of handsome Naga youth Sumukh, crowned with a wedding garland. And Gunakeshi also realises that water is streaming down both her eyes.

It is these, perhaps, that are called tears. There is no place for these in the life of Amaravati. Then from where, and why, do these tears appear in the eyes of this dweller of the city of gods? Are these tears the first gift of love? 

“Whether you be immortal or blessed with long life or short-lived, whatever you might be, it is you indeed who are the beloved man of Matali’s daughter, Gunakeshi. As if silently the music of a resolve keeps echoing within Gunakeshi. Your faith shall not be fruitless. Should death come to snatch you away, even if the opportunity to proffer the wedding garland does not arise, still Gunakeshi will cast around your neck the garland of her love-lorn arms. I am not amrita, nor am I the giver of life, but I can turn your death itself nectareous. Should the city of gods deprive you, should the king of the gods not give you amrita, still do not sorrow, Naga youth. Matali’s daughter Gunakeshi will not deprive you. If you should truly go out like a short-lived tongue of flame, then, before you die out, feel on your breast the anguished, infatuated breath of your beloved, the daughter of Matali.”

The painful emotions of Gunakeshi’s heart seem to have grown honeyed and agitated by the touch of these strange tears. But within the recesses of the Mandar grove have any similar anguished feelings, touched by tears, grown sweet and restless? One would like to know whether he is awake or has fallen asleep, that traveller who has arrived in the abode of the immortals from Bhogvati seeking a glimpse of his beloved’s face.

Sumukh had fallen asleep. As if, overwhelmed by the scent of Mandar flowers, Sumukh were dreaming: The king of the gods has gifted amrita and Sumukh, son of Chikur, has gained immortality. No fear, no anxiety; an ever-joyous life, free of tears. No pain of leave-taking, no anguish of estrangement, no heart laden with sighs. Youth does not fade, body does not tire, complexion does not pale. But suddenly, at the touch of someone’s scented hair, this dream laden with the scent of Mandaar is broken. Sumukh opens his eyes and looks up.

Before him stands Matali’s daughter Gunakeshi.

Surprised, Sumukh exclaims, “You? Today, at this inappropriate time, why have you come here, daughter of Matali?”
Gunakeshi: “Why do you say ‘untimely’, son of Chikur? If the evening star rises a little earlier, does that distress the sky’s breast? If the crimson rays of the dawn awake a little earlier, then does the lotus protest? You will take my hand, it is by greeting you as husband that my Parijat garland will be blessed. In a festival of the blowing of conchshells and the recitation of hymns he who will accept me as his beloved for all time, it is to him that I have come.”
Sumukh: “Speak, why you have come.”
Gunakeshi: “I wish to know what were you dreaming of so long, Naga prince?”
Sumukh: “I was dreaming that the faith with which I had come to this city of gods has been fulfilled.”

– Continued

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