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The Six Seasons
Though each of the seasons is the best and different from the others, in Vrindavana there is no loss in manifesting their glories simultaneously. Con¬trary elements live together in harmony. Can all living entities not learn this lesson from the seasons of Vrindavana?
In a place on the river cooled by the breeze' the kiki and haritaka birds call out (birds of the Hemanta and winter seasons), and in places bright as if shining with jewels, crickets chirp (summer insects). Cataka birds warble near water falls cascading from mountains (monsoon birds). When the clouds disperse, swans float in spotless water (autumn), and the cuckoos call out in flower-filled groves (spring). Vrindavana, giving birth to all seasons at once, is a place to be discussed by logicians. Out of envy all the lakes in Vrindavana steal the sweet water dropping from Murari's mouth as He drinks. The rivers, swelling due to the invisible, sweet sound of Krishna's joyous flute, meander here and there in Vrindavana out of extreme greed to attain the mood of love of Vraja. With its low intonation, the flute calls the herds of milk-laden cows in Vrindavana to the new succu¬lent leaves of the rows of trees and invites them to eat them. The wind from the Malaya hills journeys here in its program to perfume the whole earth. Bu! overcome with the natural, incomparable fragrance of Vrindavana, it dances in ecstasy with the quivering creepers.
Here stands one youtntui, praisewortny desire tree, dark as a mmaia tree, which delights the whole world by fulfilling their desires with inconceivable loving exchanges. Here the cowherd women, endowed with qualities attrac¬tive to millions of Laksmis, pick flowers. Their master Syamasundara taxes them or holds their hands and satisfies them with loving pastimes. In Vrindavana, the bees gather in attractive groves, which contain jeweled plat¬forms in the middle. There are brilliant flowerbeds and many items brought by the sakhis for the pleasure of Krishna. In Vrindavana, dense with flowers, the effulgence of the moon-faced, playful gopis shines like lightning in the lap of the rain clouds.
Conversation of the Sakhis
"As the sweet winds of Vrindavana bathe Shri Radha, we think of Her up¬coming abhiseka and become blissful. O sakhil When will we bathe trem¬bling Radha in front of Krishna with water from jeweled pots, and bathe our own bodies in the streams of Her dilated glances? When will we, on Radha's advice, feign neglect and prevent the gentle smiling King of Vraja, who plucks the Vrindavana flowers, from approaching Her?
"When will we reveal to Krishna the truth about deceitful, punishable Padma, who carelessly stole flowers after rejecting the sweet, consoling words of Radha, the queen of the forests belonging to the killer of Putana? O sakhis! Do not be pained, for the festival is fast approaching. If not, then why is my left eye continually twitching?" In this way the sakhis talked to each other in a distant place and became stunned. Then the effulgence of Radha, who was nearby, attracted their atten¬tion.