All's fair in love and war

A new morning. Something happened last night that festers when I open my eyes. An opening of my heart. A silent revolution…
I will no longer beg and plead for something that is denied me – who has the right to deny me anything? Not even my Krishna can tell me to forget Him.
I will take this bull by the horns and lead it where I need it to go, later, rather than sooner. If marriage is a part of this game, I will commit to the meaningless words – they cannot have any meaning and it cannot be a true marriage when I merely utter them but do not believe them. Is it lying when you are coerced to say what is very clearly untrue? I have not kept any secrets. The world is aware that this madwoman belongs to Giridhari. Yet they insist on saying I must consent to belong to another. I will consent with mere words.
After all, what is marriage in this mortal world, save a political alliance that will keep peace in the realm? I will commit to this maneuver. I am not an idiot to see how it will benefit the kingdom and the people thereof.
The Rana is aware that I am in love with my Krishna and yet he wants my hand in marriage. There is no way I can make him comprehend the ridiculousness of his request. I believe him to be a reasonable man, I have reasoned with him.

“Rana, this cannot be. In marriage, there must be fidelity. When I am loyal to my Krishna, how can I be loyal to you?”
“Ah, but Meera, I am loyal to my countrymen, yet I have a family and friends as well.”
“That may be so, but this is different! How can I love you when my one true love is Giridhari?”
“Love me as your child. Or as your friend, if you will have me.”
“I cannot bring myself to depend on you when you will not honor my single desire and goal in life.”
“Depend on my wealth to pass the years before you reach your goal. I will build you a temple where you can pursue your goal, I do not ask you to let go the feet of the one I cannot compare to. I do not try to be your Krishna; I am but a mere Rana, requiring this political alliance for the good of my own true love – my country.”

I have explained these to him, and yet he insists. In the knowledge that he is a reasonable human being who will not resort to extremities, I will do this thing.
I will stoop to conquer. I will play this game, with the handicaps dealt me.
If I cannot convince the world that I am who I am – I am Meera, dasi of Krishna for every birth in this world – If they refuse to be convinced before this worldly marriage and insist on humouring me as though I am a child reluctant to give up a toy, they will pay. They will find out as the years pass that my mind and purpose are set, I must reach point “B.” All the obstacles that fall in my path shall be circumvented, or bull-dozed. This is my battlefield, and my weapons are few. I will see victory, and if I do not, there is no meaning or reason to my existence.
Good morning, world. Ready or not, here I come…

You are mine. I am yours.

My little Meera,
I watch over you as you play, sing, dance, cry, hope and sleep.
I am always with you, every footstep of the way. Do you not realize, I cradle you in my arms at this very moment? I love you, sweet child! I cannot bear to look at you, my little one, for maya threatens to take me once again.
I adore you more than you can imagine. More than *you* can imagine – you with the fire in your eye and the strength in your heart. You with enough love to bind and shackle the Almighty Supreme Lord of the Three Worlds yet have enough love remaining to spare for the world.
I am but a slave to your song. I am the little bells on your gunguru. I long to draw you into Myself, to dance a blissful, fiery thillana. I long to gaze upon your graceful curves and sparkling eyes just as you gaze upon my own. To wrap my leg around your waist as yours wraps my own, to rest my hand upon your shoulder as yours rests upon mine, just as we were long ago when you were Radha, dancing the Rasakrida. I long to be your charioteer, my little Satyabama. Together, no evil could rear its head against us. No Jabberwocky would go unslain. No fears would remain in the world.
But realize this, little love. Were I to take you away from your pain and away from the pain you would cause the unworthy Rana, our selfishness would manifest as a tiny tulasi leaf of guilt, as weighty as the leaf you placed on the scales when you were Rukmini. Such is the power and curse of karma.
I promise you, when your ordeals are over, when you have given to the world what you set out to give when you were born as a bardess – that very minute I shall make you mine forever. Your lover’s bed shall remain in the sky, waiting for you to shed this life.
Do not think that means I will let you go. I will pull at your pallu every time you tug at my heartstrings with your coy smiles. I will hide and watch as you search in vain – for you tease my by your very existence. I will appear at your bedside in your dreams and claim you; the Rana shall not have my betrothed, in body or spirit.
Do not ever doubt that I will hold fast, never to let go.
You are mine, Meera. I am yours.
~Meera ke prabhu giridhar