Even when they are all dancing around, Krishna, the spiritual Truth, remains but motionless in the centre of the ring of the dancing crowd, untouched by the Gopi-s moving in their ecstatic trance. The devinely sweet maidens of Vraja dance in thrilled estacy because of the maddening music of the Flute-bearer who, by His breath, draws out the 'melody of existence.' To identify ourselves with the Centre is to be the master of the situation; to play among the whirls of dancers is to suffer the fatigue and exhaustion, the thrills and sorrows of the milkmaids of Vrndavan. This is Rasa-krida.
in foot-note to shlok17,
On Junichiro Tanizaki's The Maids
2 months ago