Lakshmi and Bhavani are both considered queens of beauty, and their characters are said to “melt into each other.” Lakshmi being commonly seen with a Kamal or Lotos, the emblem of female beauty, in her hand, she is called Kamala: the word is by some—by Sir W. Jones, indeed, in his earlier lucubrations on Hindu mythology, spelled Kemel. In his profound and spirited hymn to Narayana, which every inquirer into its subject would do well to consult with attention, that deity, a personification of the Spirit of Brahme, as “he heavenly pensive on the Lotus lay,” said to Brahma, “Go; bid all the worlds exist!” and the Lotus is thus apostrophised:—
“Hail, primal blossom! hail, empyreal gem!
Kemel, or Pedma, or whate’er high name
Delight thee; say, what four-formed Godhead came,
With graceful stole, and bearing diadem,
Forth from thy verdant stem?—
Full-gifted Brahma.”[20]
The following extract from the “Loves of Krishna and Radha” shews the deep poetic sentiment associated with flowers, and especially with the Lotos. Krishna, afflicted by the jealous anger of Radha, exclaims—
“Grant me but a sight of thee, O lovely Radhica! for my passion torments me. I am not the terrible Mahesa: a garland of water-lilies, with subtile threads, decks my shoulders—not serpents with twisted folds: the blue petals of the Lotos glitter on my neck—not the azure gleam of poison: powdered sandal wood is sprinkled on my limbs—not pale ashes. O god of love! mistake me not for Mahadeva; wound me not again; approach me not in anger; hold not in thy hand the shaft barbed with an amra flower. My heart is already pierced by arrows from Radha’s eyes, black and keen as those of an antelope; yet mine eyes are not gratified by her presence. Her’s are full of shafts; her eyebrows are bows, and the tips of her ears are silken strings: thus armed by Ananga, the god of desire, she marches, herself a goddess, to ensure his triumph over the vanquished remorse. I meditate on her delightful embrace: on the vanishing glances darted from the fragrant Lotos of her mouth: on her nectar-dropping speech; on her lips, ruddy as the berries of the Bimba.”
Radha, half pacified, thus tenderly reproaches him—
“Alas! alas! Go, Madhava—depart, Kesavi; speak not the language of guile: follow her, O Lotus-eyed god—follow her, who dispels thy care. Look at his eyes, half-opened, red with waking through the pleasurable night—yet smiling still with affection for my rival. Thy teeth, O cerulean youth! are as azure as thy complexion, from the kisses which thou hast imprinted on the beautiful eyes of thy darling, graced with dark blue powder; and thy limbs, marked with punctures in love’s warfare, exhibit a letter of conquest, written in polished sapphire with liquid gold. That broad bosom, stained by the bright Lotos of her foot, displays a vesture of ruddy leaves over the tree of thy heart, which trembles within it. The pressure of her lips on thine wound me to the soul. Ah! how canst thou assert that we are one, since our sensations differ thus widely?—Thy soul, O dark-limbed god! shows its blackness externally; even thy childish heart was malignant, and thou gavest death to the nurse who would have given thee milk.”
Krishna is thus farther described in the same poem—
“His azure breast glittered with pearls of unblemished lustre, like the full bed of the cerulean Yamuna, interspersed with curls of white foam. From his graceful waist flowed a pale yellow robe, which resembled the golden dust of the water-lily scattered over its blue petals. His passion was inflamed by the glances of her eyes, which played like a pair of water birds with azure plumage, that sport near a full-blown Lotos on a pool, in a season of dew. Bright earrings, like two suns, displayed, in full expansion, the flowers of his cheeks and lips, which glistened with the liquid radiance of smiles. His locks, interwoven with blossoms, were like a cloud variegated with moonbeams, and on his forehead shone a circle of odorous oils, extracted from the sandal of Malaya—like the moon just appearing on the dusky horizon, while his whole body seemed in a flame from the blaze of unnumbered gems.”
With respect to the mention above of the blue Lotos, Moor notes:—“Written in the north of India; the Lotos in the southern parts, Bengal and the Dekhan, having only white and red flowers. Hence the Hindu poets feign that the Lotus was dyed red by the blood of Siva, that flowed from the wound made by the arrow of Kama.”
And with respect to the expression, “the bright Lotos of her foot,” he says:—“Hindustani women dye the soles of their feet, and nails, of a bright red. Redha, in her frenzied jealousy, fancies she sees a print of her rival’s foot on Krishna’s breast; observing, perhaps, the indelible impression of the foot of Brighu, received on his breast by Vishnu.”