A mischievous cowherd, he was lovingly called Shyam, for his dark evening complexion. She, with her lovely sun-kissed skin and unwavering devotion, was Radha Rani, the queen of his heart.
Aeons ago in the gardens of Vrindavan, the crescent moon had borne witness to the bloom of their divine love. Dancing on a carpet of red and yellow blossoms in tandem to his melodious music; in a lilting voice, she had woven their song, transcending the norms of propriety with the innocence and purity of their bond. The sweet notes from his flute, a siren’s call floating in the cool breeze of the moonlit evening, had lured many a women companions, gopis and sakhis to join in their celebration.
Night and Day, Yin and Yang, God and Goddess, Narayan and Shri. Opposite but connected, to balance the world and its creations.
The red blossoms are the Gulmohurs (Royal Poinciana), called Krishnachura in Bangla and the yellow blossoms are the Yellow Poinciana, called Radhachura in Bangla.
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