Satyabhama laments to the Sun God. The divine gemstone – the Syamantaka – that He had given as a boon to her father had turned out to be nothing but a curse for her. The stone that had bestowed loads of wealth upon her father left her but impoverished, for what she desired was not wealth but the flute-playing cowherd of Vrindavan. She longed for the dusky hero who had subjugated the black venom-spitting serpent of Kalindi. Like every cowherd girl of Vraj, she awaited the prince of yadus who had stolen their garbs and danced with them in divine love. She always dreamt of him, who was dark as the clouds, and he stirred up thousands of rainbows in her heart.
Alas! The splendour of the divine gemstone
had blinded her father with greed! She implored the Sun God to take back His
magnificent gem, for what she yearned for was the emerald of Ambady. But will
the “dark cloud” ever find this “lightning” that pines to embrace it?
The poet lets his imagination fly while articulating
Satyabhama’s love for Krishna. His expressions of love take many different
forms. Here, the poet becomes one with the lovelorn Satyabhama. Love of Krishna, for those who have not just
skimmed the surface of the Puranas but delved deeper into their layers
to draw the essence of them, is beyond physical and temporal boundaries. The
narrative is but a vehicle to transport you to the ultimate experience.
It’s up
to you whether you revel in Yashoda’s maternal love for her mischievous son,
the gopis’ romantic love for the eve-teasing adolescent, the gopas’ binding
love for their playmate who is their protector in all perils, Radha’s selfless
love for her sweetheart, Sudama’s undemanding, unconditional love for his
childhood friend, Kubja’s self-surrendering love for the prince whose touch
changed her life forever, Rukmini's and Satyabhama’s ardent love vying for
their beloved’s attention, or the love of the many, many others – not to
mention the unswerving, obsessive attachment, albeit negative, of the
perpetrators, including Kamsa who had deliberately chosen a life of evil only for
a quick deliverance at the hands of Krishna.
Every
form of love, here, is a divine union with Krishna. Like the lightning and the rain
cloud. The former cannot but unite with the latter. Indeed, it has little existence without the latter.
Sreedevi Unni's lilting rendition at once conveys Satyabhama's despair and longing that
flash through the entire poem.
സത്യഭാമ
സത്യഭാമ ഞാൻ സൂര്യ!
നീ പിതാവിനു സമ്പ-
ത്തെട്ടെട്ടു ഭാരം നൽകും
ദിവ്യമാം സ്യമന്തകം
വരമായരുളിയ-
തിന്നെൻ്റെയിളംനെഞ്ചിൻ
മലർവാടികയ്ക്കൊരു
ശാപമായ് ഭവിച്ചല്ലൊ!
എന്നുള്ളം വൃന്ദാവന-
മാക്കി ഞാനതിലൊരു
പൊന്നോടക്കുഴലൂതും
കണ്ണനെ സ്വപ്നം കണ്ടു.
മച്ചിത്തകാളിന്ദിയിൽ
കാകോളമൊഴുക്കുന്ന
സർപ്പത്തെ ഹനിക്കും കാർ-
വർണ്ണനെ പ്രതീക്ഷിച്ചു.
ഞാനൊരു ഗോപാംഗന
ചേലകൾ കവർന്നൊപ്പം
രാസലീലകളാടും
യദുനാഥനെക്കാത്തു.
എന്നുള്ളിലൊരായിരം
മഴവില്ലുണർത്തുമാ-
മംഗളമനോഹര-
നീലമേഘമെന്നോർത്തു.
സൂര്യ! നീയരുളിയൊ-
രീ മഹാരത്നത്തിൻ്റെ
ഹാരിയാം പ്രഭ താത-
ന്നന്ധകാരമേ തീർത്തു!
നീ തിരിച്ചെടുത്താലു-
മീമണി, മരതക-
നീലമാമമ്പാടിത-
ന്നനർഘരത്നം പോരും.
കൃഷ്ണ! നീ കണ്ടെത്തുമോ
ശ്യാമമേഘമാം നിന്നോ-
ടൊത്തിണങ്ങുവാൻ വെമ്പു-
മീ സൗദാമിനിതന്നെ?
© 1990 KTK
