Ahead of Valentine’s Day, looking at how a 12th‑century poem continues to evoke the many shades of love

Love — tender, yearning, playful, devotional — has always been at the heart of Indian art and ancient literature. Across poetry, painting, sculpture and classical dance, love is celebrated not just as an emotion but as a powerful metaphor for human longing, spiritual seeking and the relationship between the mortal and the divine. It is this seamless blending of the earthly and the transcendental that gives Indian aesthetics its distinctive depth and beauty.

It is within this vast and layered tradition that Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda stands as a luminous milestone. My book Odissi and the Geeta Govinda is, in essence, a work of love — an offering to Odisha’s rich cultural heritage. When I first came to the State 45 years ago, I knew almost nothing about it. I had only heard of its classical dance form. Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda was one of the things that fascinated me from the very beginning. At first as a compelling romantic tale, and then as an allegorical, philosophical, sensual and spiritual work; all rolled into one.

I was fortunate to learn exquisite dance choreographies of the ashtapadi directly from my mentor and guru Kelucharan Mohapatra, whose renditions of the same have become legendary. Through his guidance, the poetry revealed itself to me not only as literature, but as a living tradition — where love flows into movement, devotion into rhythm and art into a universal language.

The poet’s vision of Radha and Krishna’s love has been interpreted in many ways over the centuries, with scholars and commentators adapting it to align with their individual philosophical perspectives.

Italian-born Odissi dancer and choreographer Ileana Citaristi
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

Over time, their divine union came to symbolise many profound ideas: the merging of the atma with the paramatma, the longing of the individual soul to unite with the universal one, the devotee’s desire to become one with God, and even the rising of kundalini towards spiritual awakening.

But why Jayadeva chose the metaphor of the Radha-Krishna love for his great literary work is impossible to decipher. What we do know is that he was both a deeply romantic person and an ardent devotee of Jagadisha or Jagannath. No wonder, then, that he chose to worship through the finest gift he possessed — his literary talent — and used it to depict the infinite shades of love.

Jayadeva’s wife Padmavati symbolised an ideal companion — one who both inspires him with her beauty and grace, yet never distracts him from his purpose. Without her, the many-layered love that Jayadeva lends to the character of Radha might not have been possible.

The sensuous, musical cadence of Sanskrit in this poem, intertwined with its erotic undertones and the poet’s fervent spiritual quest, elevates the kavya to a superior level seldom attained by any literary work before or since. Radha and Krishna, though revered in popular belief as divine beings, are portrayed here as human lovers tormented by the anguish of separation.

Krishna, throughout the poem, is invoked through the many epithets familiar in Vaishnava literature, yet he is consistently humanised.

Krishna is introduced as a small child in the very beginning of the poem, who is afraid to go home alone through the forest because of the impending darkness. Then he is seen as a young and attractive man, who enchants the women with the sound of his flute and is desired by each one of them. Slowly the character of the play emerges and he is transformed into a more pensive and mature lover. He suffers the pangs of separation, realises his foolishness and focuses all his attention on the only person who, through her intense love and total dedication, can fulfil his desires.

As far as Radha is concerned, she is first introduced in a state of torment, having witnessed her beloved engaged in amorous play with another woman. Withdrawn and wounded, she confides her secret desires and fantasies to her friend. At this moment, the role of the sakhi emerges. In the subsequent songs, the sakhi moves between the two lovers, carrying messages and trying to bring them together.

Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra’s was known for his distinct visualisation of Jayadeva’s ashapadis
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

As Radha journeys through a spectrum of emotions while adorning herself to meet Krishna — anger at his deception, regret for their quarrels and ultimately the realisation of the power of surrender — she is portrayed in successive archetypes of the nayika. She appears as the vasakasajja nayika, preparing herself for union; as the khandita nayika, wounded by betrayal; as the kalahantarita nayika, softened by remorse after conflict; as the abhisarika nayika, venturing boldly to meet her beloved; and finally as the swadhinabhartruka nayika, the woman who, through her unwavering devotion, attains mastery over her lover’s heart.

The beauty of spring lends colour and intensity to the unfolding love story. Nature itself becomes a vital presence, playing as significant a role as Radha, Krishna and the sakhis.

As a dancer, choreographer, researcher, and eternal admirer of Indian art and culture, I have cherished the joy of invoking the spirit of these compositions in my performances. Watching guruji explore their emotional nuances was a revelation — transforming them into what felt like everyday conversations between two souls embracing the rigours of life.

The Gita Govinda opens with two invocations to Vishnu, referring to mythical events occurring beyond the ordinary bounds of time. By doing so, Jayadeva places the eternal love story of Radha and Krishna within a continuous, timeless present frame, unrelated to notions of past and future. In a contemporary context, it gestures towards a world freed from hatred and suffused with love.

Published – February 10, 2026 06:14 pm IST