#ashtabharya

❛ For in your name, all worlds unite, In your presence, all hearts take flight. Madhava, with your love so true, We sing our devotion, only to you. ❜

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.

The Birth of a Divine Princess

In the golden glow of the celestial heavens, where the sun burned with divine radiance, was born a princess unlike any other. She was Kalindi, the daughter of Surya, the mighty Sun God, and Samjna, the daughter of the celestial architect Vishvakarma. Alongside her twin brother Yama, the god of death, she was destined for a path that intertwined with both mortality and eternity. From the moment of her birth, Kalindi shone with an aura of purity and grace. While her brother Yama governed the afterlife, Kalindi found herself drawn to the earthly realms, her spirit flowing like a river—both free and sacred. As time passed, she would become one with the river Yamuna, a divine entity whose waters would carry the blessings of the gods and the prayers of countless souls.

The Sacred Waters of Kalindi

Kalindi, as a river, had her source in the Kalinda Mountains, and thus she was given her name. The Yamuna River flowed parallel to the Ganges, a twin in the mortal world just as she was in birth. Yet, unlike her fair and luminous counterpart, the waters of Kalindi were dark, deep, and mysterious. The Vamana Purana tells that when Lord Shiva, grieving for his beloved Sati, leaped into her waters, the grief of the great god turned them as dark as the petals of a blue lotus. But her dark waters were not a sign of sorrow alone. They were sacred, carrying divine purification for those who bathed in them. The Padma Purana proclaims that even the most righteous of deeds—penance, charity, and sacrifice—pale in comparison to the sanctity of a single dip in Kalindi’s waters. She was not just a river; she was salvation itself.

A Princess’s Penance

Despite her celestial origins, Kalindi’s heart yearned for something more—a love that was beyond the limits of time and space. She desired Lord Vishnu, the preserver of the universe, as her husband. Determined, she descended to the mortal realm & performed severe austerities and penances, calling out to the divine. Her prayers did not go unheard. The Supreme Lord, knowing her pure heart, had already set her destiny in motion. But the moment of union was yet to come.

The Meeting of Souls

One fateful day, Arjuna, the great warrior prince of the Pandavas, and Krishna, the Supreme Being himself, were walking along the banks of Kalindi. As they wandered, Arjuna caught sight of a woman of ethereal beauty. Approaching her, he asked, “Who are you, O lady, and what brings you here in such penance?” Kalindi with a voice as gentle as flowing water, she replied, “I am Kalindi, the daughter of Surya, the keeper of these sacred waters. I have long desired to be the wife of the great Lord Vishnu, & so I wait here in prayer.” Arjuna repeated all this to Lord Vāsudeva, who was already aware of it. The Lord then took Kālindī onto His chariot and went back to see King Yudhiṣṭhira. The supremely auspicious Lord then married Kālindī on a day when the season, the lunar asterism & the configurations of the sun & other heavenly bodies were all propitious.

A Queen Amongst Queens

In Dwarka, Kalindi found herself among Krishna’s eight principal queens, the Ashta-Bharya. Yet, among them, she held a special place, for she had sought Krishna not for power, not for wealth, but for love alone. Kalindi gave birth to a pious son by name Asruta whom Madhusudana gave to Shrutasena. Having given that son away Hrishikesha delightedly said to his wife: "For long he will be the son of you both. Shrimad Bhagwatam says “Śruta, Kavi, Vṛṣa, Vīra, Subāhu, Bhadra, Śānti, Darśa and Pūrṇamāsa were sons of Kālindī. Her youngest son was Somaka.”

The Festival of Sibling Love

The love between Kalindi and her twin brother, Yama, was not forgotten. One day, Yamuna, the gentle lady of the waters, prepared a feast in golden vessels & invited Yama to dine with her on the Dvitīyā day in the month of Kārttika. Pleased with her devotion, Yama granted her a boon: “Let this day be a festival. Those who eat in their sister’s house today shall be blessed with happiness and protection.” Thus, the festival of Yama-dvitīyā (Bhai Dooj) was born—a day of love between brothers & sisters, celebrated to this very day in India.

The Eternal Goddess

As centuries passed, Kalindi’s name was spoken with reverence. Her river became a sacred pilgrimage site. Her story became a lesson in faith and love. In temples & scriptures, she is depicted riding a tortoise, holding a water pot, her complexion as dark as the depths of her sacred waters. She is no longer just the daughter of Surya or the wife of Krishna. She is Kalindi, the goddess of purity, devotion, and salvation.

The Legacy of Kalindi

Even today, the Yamuna River flows, carrying the whispers of an ancient love story. Devotees believe that those who bathe in her waters are freed from sin, that her presence is a bridge between the mortal and the divine. Kalindi’s journey—from a celestial princess to a river, a queen, and a goddess—reminds us that true love is not just about seeking, but about waiting, believing, and surrendering to the divine.

Their eyes, still gazing at each other, were conveying the words of the heart, reaching them to their respective souls.

"So you did it, hmm?"

"I did," she said. "And now, I know why you advised me against it when we were together."

"Why did I?" Govardhan's eyes, fond and loving, made Ramaa blush, and she looked away partially, her pink cheeks endearing to him. She felt his fingers very lightly touch them before pulling away, and she turned to look at him with a pout, about to argue. However, she paused.

They used to argue like this, because he always only lightly touched her, till she pouted and grumbled at him.

"You wanted me to gain independence from the restrictions of my elder brothers by myself, and not to try and balance our relationship," Ramaa wrote said softly. "But love.. I mean, Vardhan, our relationship was and memories of it still is my highest motivation. You taught me to grow personally, you gave me everything. You are everything."

"As you are mine," he said gently, his eyes holding tears when she called him love. It was her favourite term of endearment, and just seeing him had opened up all that.

*****

A snippet for an OS I wrote, with the character aesthetics up! These aesthetics WILL be expanded into a full story eventually, but for now, enjoy them with the OS’ I will keep posting.

Roughly five thousand years ago, in the auspicious land of Aryavarta, when the pseudo emperor wrecked havoc upon the Yadava tribes— there came a savior who uplifted their melancholic spirits. Fighting off Jarasandha seventeen times, during the eighteenth ambush, Krishna: the sole surviving son of Devaki and Vasudeva, took his kinsmen to the safety of the sea.

The thalassic city of Dwarka as it was named, the one with numerous gates was the capital of the Yadavas. There lived a prosperous merchant named Satrajita. He had the gem Syamantaka, and a gem among women for his daughter— Satyabhama. Several springs back, while offering his dawn worship to the solar god, he had found her in a gigantic lotus bloom floating on a pond.

Now, it was when the Syamantaka jewel went missing that the merchant lost his senses, clouded by roaring vexation.

“This! This Vrishni prince, this Krishna of notorious mien has stolen my property which was a blessing from Suryadeva!” Satrajita shrieked, fixing a furious gaze at the dark-complexioned lord who had arrived at once when he heard of the unfortunate incident. Krishna gaped at him incredulously, wordless at the pang of emotions that hit him like the celestial Vajra. With his signature grin robbed away, he shook his head ever so slightly, war-like shoulders sagged in sadness.

The father of Satyabhama continued his lament, “He had come wishing for the Syamantaka to be submitted in the treasury. Surely I turned him down, for it belongs to me. Now he took it away by force when his vanity was injured!”

Behind the slightly parted gates of her residence stood Satyabhama, aghast and devastation written on her golden visage, oddly mirroring the turmoil of the accused. An emptiness swirled in her chest and she staggered a step, never knowing when her knees would give in.

The lotus born was not a stranger to the kingmaker. She knew him like the back of her palm— like the rains know petrichor, like the constellations know the moon and how the sun is wont to the seamless ether. She’d admire him from a distance, barely in touch but so much in his mind, Krishna could never truly shake off her orphic presence.

All her dreams and all his exuberance shattered at the wrath of Satrajita.

“Father, you sent Uncle Prasena to the eastern forests with the gem, didn’t you?” Satyabhama strode into the privacy of her house, turning the heads of her extended family along with the beautiful dusky prince. Her eyes pooled with fury driven tears and she turned her head down, ashamed by the shock in her father’s eyes and found him let down by her gall. But how could she let go of her strong sense of justice?

Prasenajita, the brother of Satrajita and Satyabhama’s uncle was known to be fond of hunting. Since not many days, neither him nor the gem were heard of.

“The jungle is guarded by the king of the bears, the immortal Jambavan. I apologize for the humiliation, Your Highness. I’m terribly sorry for my transgressions against you too, father.” She hastily brushed away her tears and swallowed the guilt gnawing at her throat. Her parents were rendered mum by her demeanor, known to maintain dignified silence unless not spoken to. She was immensely self respecting and knew her strengths— but this was something not envisaged.

“Be victorious in your pursuits. I must take my leave.” And she marched into her chambers and shut the doors in a frenzy, cursing at her stars.

Taking his cue, Krishna set off to find the jewel and clear his reputation. Even the common folks were influenced by the senseless words of Satrajita and eyed him with suspicion, him who had earned a venerable position for his clan in the political dynamics of the subcontinent. But he was known to steal butter back in his boyhood days, and old habits die hard.

Krishna’s ilks who had accompanied him in his quest, returned from the frightening jungle. However, without him by their side.

For twenty-nine days and twenty-nine nights, Satyabhama neither knew rest nor sleep. Her thoughts would often drift to the ignominy of the man she had come to love and the dejection in her father’s eyes. She tossed and turned on her bed all night, haunted by all sorts of morbid possibilities. “Why did you pit me against my own father, Gauri Maa? Will you not protect the marital serendipity of Princess Rukmini who has left everything and all for him?” She wept afore the mother-goddess presiding over the local temple, never knowing how to face the first wife of her beloved. Am I the root of her sorrow? I shouldn't have led him to his doom. The wretched thing isn’t worth the dust of his feet.

On day thirty, His Highness made a grandiose reappearance. Darker and gleaming like winter eventides, brawn and glorious in the same vein as that of rain clouds— Krishna came, like an elixir upon barren earth, with the Syamantaka tied around his nape in a flower festoon and a new wife in his arms. The woman was about as tall as him, if not more, which was surely a lot. She had the complexion of blue water lilies and embodied the goddess of the forests, Aranyani. Like Seeta would follow Rama and like how Rama would be fond of his bride, Krishna and the woman casted coy glances at each other. Satyabhama added two and two to find she was Jambavati, the daughter of Jambavan.

Prasenajita had been mauled to death by a lion and the beast was vanquished by Jambavan, who had then acquired the jewel. Nearly two moons of a brawl later, Krishna had defeated the bear king and revealed to him that he was the Raghava Jambavan had aided in the previous era.

Satyabhama knew neither envy nor dismay. All that mattered was Krishna being safe and sound, and happy.

Dwarka clamored in bliss once again, echoing the chants of the god incarnate’s name. People fell at his feet and he patiently made his way through them, making them rise again and beaming their way. Eventually, he reached the palatial foyer and formally greeted his family and friends.

Satrajita mumbled endless apologies, bowing to the usually gregarious youth who was going beet red in shame at the wallowing of the merchant. Elders weren't supposed to be belittled so, Krishna believed.

“Please- this is the least I can do, son. I have falsely tarnished your image when—”

Krishna shook his head, the opal diadem with a fluttering iridescent feather the only thing adorning him. He was ethereal through and through, the ocean of compassion. “I cannot have your gem, Arya. It should be under your protection. I have never desired it for myself. Besides, this is not the best jewel that you have.” He turned to glimpse at Satyabhama who gaped blankly at the trio— Satrajita, Krishna and Jambavati.

The bear princess winked at her. I know your secret, her mischief seemed to articulate.

“In that case.” Satrajita took his daughter’s crimson painted palm in his own and led her entranced self to the kingmaker with a flute. “You may have the best one, Vaasudeva. You are the only one I deem competent to have my true fortune. She has guided my maligned mind away from the dark and brought me undying glee. My sweet child Satyabhame, do you consent to this marriage?”

Flustered, she nodded in affirmation and her bridegroom gladly looped an arm around her. Rukmini circled the veneration platter around the three of them, a broad grin splitting her gentle face.