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Preface

I am Krishna. I am the man who knew the

beginning and the end of every story ever

told, and this is my story. The way I see it,

there is no right or wrong, so I let the tales

unfold like theatre, a drama played out with

each minute detail arranged, plotted,

planned, and preconceived. An orchestra of

events that I will make happen. There

remains, however, a one-in-a-million chance

that it won't. How? Ever so often, the will of

the other will find the power to surge

through, rarely perhaps, but it can, it does,

and it's in that one outcome that I feel the

exhilaration of all I am.

It happens so rarely, though, that I should be

thankful for it, but I do not need to express

gratitude. I understand all of it only too well.

I know the importance and the need to be

understood. I know what it is to feel extreme

love and extreme pain. Both are the same. I

feel it all, and I feel nothing at all. Every

word that emanates from a being has an

essence, a meaning which, if understood, is a

powerful thing. I can create a tapestry of

words to blanket the world as it goes through

the ice age, and I can melt that ice with the

warmth of my words. But for me, they are

just words. To you, they must mean

everything.

But I will not talk of all that today. Too

much has already been told. Today, I will lay

bare the man in me. I will show you the child

who was born, the boy who played on the

farms, the courtyard, and the streets. I want

to talk of the trivial, the ordinary, because

that is where you must seek the deep.

I want to talk about love. I loved falling in

love—every time. With Radha, it was about

the senses. She was my friend, and I wooed

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her, but not with all the skill and range of

artfulness I possessed like I did the others. I

wooed Radha because I knew no other way

to exist. Radha, who permeated every fibre

of my being so completely, I felt she was me.

And because Radha is synonymous with

music, I want to talk about music and how I

have always loved it. I find it easier to let the

music flow, and I use my prodigious

knowledge of it to be heard above the noise

that echoes all around. Music opens people

up. It moves the spirit; it heals. It was music

that flowed through Radha and me, bringing

us together till she was everything I would

ever need or want, but music could not make

her leave her world for me.

I have so many women in my life. And they

all give up every atom of their beings to me.

I used to believe that was the nature of

feminine love. A gradual surrender until the

she in her ceases to be a separate entity. But

Radha was not like that. Her will is not like

the flicker I see in the deepest parts of the

other people I meet. It isn't even just a flame.

It's like a fire in the hearth that warms

everything around it. It calls out to you, and

you do not want to leave as you come near

palms open in front. You want to lay there

for a little while, be kissed by the heat of the

flames and as your eyes get heavy, you

remain captured in the comfort of the glow.

She is like that. She is just like the hearth

fire. And I cannot find it in me to not hold

on. She is so much more than the others.

But she couldn't come with me, and I

desperately needed to move on. I can't just

stay and play music all day; I must grow and

be on that journey to build the kingdoms I

am programmed to destroy. I must play my

part, and she chooses not to accept her place

in the script. Ever.

So, I moved on, to acquire all that I must, I

lived, I loved- some more, I killed - for a

better world, I fibbed a bit and built myself a

small empire in a little corner of my world

until it submerged.

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