The month of Ashwin had begun; the days were getting shorter and winter was setting in. In the Mahagambheerā-mandir of Nadia, Gour-virahini Priyāji’s Bhajan had become all the more strong. Kanchanā and Amitā, the two confidantes of Priyāji knew what was going on in her heart, and they were full of sorrow.  They were worried ofr her. They could not rest in peace even for a moment.  They would try to seek newer and newer means to assuage her scorching Gour-viraha.

One evening, mahā-tapasvini Priyāji, her heart brimming with Gour-viraha sat facing the window.  Her day had been full of strict Bhajan, and just now she had taken some prasādam. Gouranga’s house had everything but one – Gouranga himself! Priyāji was lost in Gour-conversation with her sakhis. Suryadev was faltering in the sky of Nadia. He was scattering his last bit of splendorous rosiness on the banks of the Ganga. Slowly, the moon started rising. The moon-god too felt the absence of the Moon of Sridhām Nabadweep (Nabadweep-Chandra); as a result he was pale. Virahini Priyāji could sense the pain of the Moon-god, and shed copious tears. All three were gazing silently at the sky, they had their Harinam-mala in their hands, tears of prem in their eyes, and Gour-viraha in their hearts. If one thing was predominant in this Mahagambheerā – the Gour-devoid Gour-home – it was silence.

Amitā could bear it no more. She broke the silence by starting Gour-kathā.

“amitār goura-kathā, kānchanār gān,

Birahini Bishnupriyār rākhoye je prān.”

Sakhi Amitā started speaking in her usual simple manner. She gazed at virahini Priyāji’s sad face and said, “Sakhi! I have a dear wish to hear from you the glory of your Prānavallabh, Nadiya-nāgar Sri Sri Gourasundar! Dear friend, I beg of you to tell us something about him – we shall feel blessed indeed!”

 (contd…………..)