She smiled at her birth; this time around. Left at mercy once more. She spoke to no one of what she felt. She smiled and cried at the same instant.
She was born to royalty and apathy – like so many of us; Mira Bai, her curse remained to be without her lover. She sat next to the river flowing gently past. Like her tears for lives after.
She sang his praise, quietly. She danced in her mad love. Her love for her divine consort. Her hari. Why did he leave her here in this mad beautiful world alone she wept and thought! Why did he not come and quench her love. This was beyond logic. This was beyond what she or anyone could explain and cajole her to understand. Godhood was such an affair! Of lifetimes, where the beloved stayed hidden and the self sought it in intense pain.
Mira the suffering lover, she was like us in some respect. But her devotion and intensity was so true. She knew nay! she felt! what she knew was missing. Her beautiful damsel lover! Her male/female/asexual lover indeed. This was the divine to be quenched by divinity itself (who can say that Mira and her pure intent love was not itself divine – even if she lived in a life of schizophrenia or lovelessness!)
Mira sang out from her heart, oh you fool – Khuda! (the self and godhood) Why have you abandoned me, why have you left me to prove myself another lifetime indeed. If this is the requirement, if this is the sacrifice needed to prove that one is worthy of love. Then so be it! I shall be your first and prime proof. I shall drink the poison worthy of love without a personal cause.
Her love was not motivated by a fucking body (I choose these words carefully – as most of us find first love by a body who we would like to fuck?) or a vested interest (like so many of us who say we are in love cause the lover gives us what we so have never ever got in our life – attention, material appreciation or what not).
Her love and lover were chosen by her, she felt it throbbing so hard. In her heart. She could never ever lie., she drank the poison; smiling crying loving singing her praise to her lover. What a life! What a lovers life!
Her story is shrouded in mystery, she lived a life aloof and when she could not fathom that her lover was going to materialize; she drank the poison; accepting death to a loveless life. What a brave lover. What a wanton lover in this day and age.
In a dream, mira and her lover embraced and kissed each others forehead. They were the ascension to another grander lovelier pain and ecstasy filled dream. Love is quenched finally satisfied in a simple embrace. God and divine tears are present in her heart; like ours. Porous and eternally rewarding.
Peace and Love