T.P. Kailasam  (1884-1946) was a South Indian writer of Tamil Iyer Brahmin ancestry settled in Mysore and Bangalore, but Kannada did not repel him. He was a geologist of the British time and got his education from England too. He was primarily a dramatist apart from being a poetry-writer, but humor had been his forte. As a writer, he is not so serious here. His frivolous and flippant nature comes to the fore as we can see it. To read him is to be reminded of A.K. Ramanujan. But the critical sense is so strong in him as he can reason it psychologically. To create fun is his job. He is a comic-maker.

Krishna as a nuisance-maker, a fiddler, a flirter has been pictured in here, stealing curd and butter from the pitchers of others’ houses, a flirter he keeps romancing with the gopis of the village. A stealer of the heart he is Krishna. What are you? We know it not.  You are dept in the art and craft of love-making and can play with hearts which is but your deception and coquetry. Why are you as such? Why do you play with someone’s emotions and feelings? Why do you disturb the gopis going to sell curd? Why do you intercept them midway? Why are you so womanly piping and dressing attractively? Why do you steal the hearts?

Your guile even gods cannot the way you belying. You are a master of all, love, music, drama and romance. You can do the drama of being sad and happy both. Your histrionics, theatrics even gods cannot what are you Krishna, what metal are you made of! A master of all arts, deceit, strength, affection, bonding and it all. You can do the drama and can act as you are supposed to be.

Yours is a dubious character, yours is a love mania. O music-maker, how long will you go making music? O stealer of hearts, how long will you go stealing and deceiving, the deceiver number one? O colorful heart as Rangeela as you are, how long will you go presenting colorfully? I know you are a man of colors and you go changing colors, changing your strategies just as a chameleon does.  Your politics beyond our comprehension. Krishna, why are you unprincipled and unscrupulous? Why are you morally so loose? Why do you go deceiving? Why do you make one fall in love and make the heart broken? Why do you keep breaking the hearts of the simple gopis on the path of love through your love dramas and operas? Are you a theatre man, a stage artist, a disguiser?  Your drama of love, we cannot. Your love is deception. Why are so fraudulent?

You can change your colors, your character and your appearance, sometimes you a child, sometimes a young lover and sometimes parting as a counselor. What are you, Krishna, a dubious character? A master of every art, a master craftsman eloquent in plotting and craftsmanship. A romancer, stealer of heart are you, a flirter, a lover! You are frivolous and flippant.

A woman's witching face, her ways, her eyes;
A panther’s frame, its grace, mayhap its heart;
An eerie mastery of ev'ry art;
A honey-tongue that steep’d all truths in lies
And yet could strip all lies in light of Truth
A smile that mock’d at plight of friend in Woe;
A breast that bled at sight of fallen foe;
Ador’d and yet afear’d of all, in sooth:

Thou tangl’d mass of man and god and brute,
What mortal mind may con thy rainbow-life
That blazed undimm’d ’mid storms of human strife,
And glean the wisdom of thy madd’ning flute,
Thy love-lit crimes, thy kindly cruelties,
Thou paradox for all eternities !