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Love Stories
from
The Mahabharata
Sumukh and Gunakeshi – 6
Like freshly
bloomed flowers, suddenly both of Gunakeshi’s eyes too grow larger touched
by some faith: “With what faith had you come to the city of gods, son of
Chikur?”
Sumukh: “I have come to gain amrita.”
In a voice like a tortured shriek Gunakeshi asks, “For gaining amrita?”
Sumukh: “Yes.”
Gunakeshi: “Is only amrita your goal?”
Sumukh: “Yes, daughter of Matali, Gunakeshi. If I obtain amrita, if I can
achieve god-like immortality, only then shall I call you to become my
life-companion, Gunakeshi. Your father, Vaasav’s sakhaa Matali, is aware
of this resolve of mine.”
Gunakeshi: “And if you do not get amrita, then?”
Suddenly Sumukh’s face grows despondent like one afraid, “Do not even
utter such inauspicious words, Gunakeshi.”
Gunakeshi: “Answer my question, son of Chikur. If your dream of gaining
immortality fails, then will you reject the wedding garland of Matali’s
daughter Gunakeshi and depart?”
Sumukh: “You tell me beautiful one, who luxuriate in the scent of the
Parijat, if you perceive that an instant hence the life of Sumukh, son of
Chikur, will be shattered by cruel and terribly Naga-hating Garud, then at
this moment will you be able to place the wedding garland round his neck?”
Gunakeshi: “I will, son of Chikur.”
Thrilled with surprise Sumukh says, “What manner of love is this, lady
Gunakeshi?”
Gunakeshi: “This is a very simple, straightforward rule of love, son of
Chikur. Gunakeshi has loved you, not your immortality. Gunakeshi loves
you, not your life’s eternity. Your heart is a hundred times more
desirable and electable and precious to me than your life-span, O Naga
prince. I am a lover. To me it is that momentary touch of your breast that
will be eternal, son of Chikur, if in your heart there is even a drop of
love for me.”
Sumukh: “Forgive me, daughter of Matali. If I am unable to gain
immortality, then the blood of my shattered dream will colour my heart. No
flower of love will ever bloom in that anguished, despairing heart,
Gunakeshi.”
Gunakeshi: “Son of Chikur!”
Sumukh: “Speak, daughter of Matali.”
Gunakeshi: “Even with loveless eyes gaze only once at the youthful picture
of this dweller of the city of gods, who craves your love.”
Sumukh: “I have seen, Gunakeshi.”
Gunakeshi: “Tell me, what says the desire throbbing in every drop of your
blood? Don’t your lips thirst? Doesn’t your breath quicken? Speak, O Naga
youth, cradled in the waters of Bhogvati, does not any impulse eagerly
strain within the calm prison of your breast for touching your lips to the
forehead of this maiden of the city of gods to win an instant’s honeyed
oblivion?”
Beautiful and undisturbed like the calm gem-encrusted mountain, Sumukh
says, “No, Gunakeshi. In a life without immortality this festival of
momentary agitation and instant ephemeral desire is an utter mockery. Even
though that mockery might appear attractive, I have no illusions regarding
it in my mind.”
Silent, with
bowed head, Gunakeshi keeps standing. Shades of the evening gather on the
eastern horizon. The scent of the Mandaar grove grows even heavier in the
cool breeze.
–
Continued
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Love Stories
from
The Mahabharata
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