The ordained fateful arrow
finally arrived.
In hit the tired feet
of the cowherd boy, Arjuna's charioteer
the primeval lover, the wily envoy, the romantic emperor;
trembled and, in a moment, went still.

The long wait to return to Vaikuntha ended:
the working of Karma
the litanies of treachery and retribution
the heart - breaking silence, the remorse
that had dawned
after the din of Kurukshetra,
all of it ended.

A great wind from the sea across Dwaraka
carried the piteous wail of Jara the hunter
soaked in the black rain
of mango blossoms and Koel's song.

Bent under the weight of guilt
the dark voices of ancient rituals wept
in the wombs of prison houses
in frolics and rasas of yesterdays
on forsaken moonlit river banks
down glittering royal courts
and avenues of falling armies.
Unshaven lean face
disillusioned, sad, pale as plaster
crumpled yellow garments
once the heartthrob of the gopis
lips still smelling of
a little earth stealthily swallowed,
stolen butter, half - truths
loveplay in moonlight
and the myriad deceits on the Yamuna banks

Newspapers flashed buried obituaries:
untimely accidental death
leaves a void difficult to fill
and yet, from now on,
husbands would sleep in peace
no more would there be fratricidal wars
or darkness in the harts
and cancer in the soul.

Conflagration of unknown joy
leapt into the sky
as the crowed sang
'The age of guilt has ended.'

In Jara's heart darkness swelled
as the sun went out
and his tears flowed as river.

The same evening
at the hurried convened meeting
condoling the sad demise
they declared another public holiday.