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.