Sandesha Rasaka

SR No.: 002918
Original Sutra Author: N/A
Author: Abdul Rahman, Jinvijay, H C Bhayani
Publisher: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan
Publication Year: 1945
Total Pages: 282
Language: Sanskrit, English
Classification: Book_Devnagari & Literature
File Size: 17 MB

Page 139

SAMDESARASAKA
more attractive hues. The flames of separation flared up in my mind and enveloped me. I recited a Nandini, a Gatha and a Bhramaravali (170): With their throats clear and astringent due to the fresh lotus-fibres, swans and Cakravākas scream in the water and move in a wonderful manner-as if, one heard the shrill tinkling of the anklets of the Autumnal Beauty (171). In the month of Aśvina, the cries of the cranes in the rivers that flowed with a stumbling velocity made me weep again with grief (172). In the moon-lit nights, the white, lofty ramparts looked lovely. I wallowed in my lonely bed, crying, as if I were struck with Death's blow (173).
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The shores of lakes were pleasant because of the ladies sporting there with their husbands. Youngsters occupied themselves with games. Drums were beaten in every house (174). Boys danced in a circle and sauntered through streets playing music. Beds were graced with the presence of young ladies (175). On the Dipavali night mansions were decorated with lights resembling the crescent moon. Ladies applied collyrium to their eyes (176). Darkcoloured garments were put on. Various wavy lines and curves
were drawn as decorations on the bosom. The breasts were besmeared with musk (177). To every limb thick sandal-paste was applied. But it worked as poison from Cupid's arrows. Flowers worn artistically on the head gave the appearance of the half-moon mounted on a black cloud (?) (178). The betel-roll with a good deal of camphor was placed in the mouth, which then resembled the rising sun. Toilette was done in hurry and confusion. Tinkling of bells was heard in beds (179).
Thus some had given themselves up to sport, while I passed nights in anguish. Fascinating music was played in every house. Only to my lot did it fall to suffer the collective woes (180): Again I recalled my husband who was away since long. And, on a daybreak, shedding profuse tears, I recited an Aḍilla and a Vastu (181): Not an hour's sleep do I get at night. Reminiscences of my loved one now fail to give me diversion. I have not a moment's enjoyment. Thus circumstanced, who fervent with passion, would not be torn? (182). Does not the lucid moonlight stream in that country? Are there no swans feeding on lotus-fruits? Is there nobody who recites Prakrit poems in a graceful voice or who