Krishna: Do you really love me?
The woman smiled sadly at him and looked away. Tears pouring. Blood pounding in her head. Did she really love him? Her lord? Her man? Her lover?
He had asked the question, for he did not know her as his Meera. The woman whose existence depended upon him. The woman who chanted his name even when he was nowhere in sight. The one whose being belonged to him. Whose soul, darkened by the shade of his skin had turned into the perfect blend of passion. Of reverence.
He had asked the question, for he did not know her as his Radha. The woman who danced to the tune of his flute and had lost herself only to find him. The woman who had broken all the boundaries of social norms to love him like no other. The one who wanted his divine love. Whose beauty, smile and happiness belonged to him and only him.
And he had asked her, "Do you really love me?"
