When I was a small girl I loved to sit and listen to stories that holy men visiting my father's palace used to tell.They were about gods and goddesses and places of pilgrimage that they visited. I was charmed by the songs they sang and learned many myself, which I used to sing when I was alone and felt sad. When other girls played with their dolls I spent my time in the family temple, plucking flower and herbs, making chandan paste, threading garlands for the sacred idols ,who were all very alive to me. I talked to them and they answered to me. When I reached my teens, a yogi one day came to my father's place. He was tall, handsome a chandan tilak adorned his forehead like a full moon in the night sky. l bowed down before him, as I was taught to do before holy men and saints, and when he blessed me by touching my head I felt a divine thrill pass through my whole body and I shivered. He took out a small image of flute playing Krishna, made out of polished black stone from his white jhola and gave it to me. He said,"This is Giridhari. Worship and serve him as you would your husband."I brought the idol to the puja room and placed him on the platform with the other gods and goddesses,but from that day he became my favourite.Soon I began to compose songs and sing to him when no one was listening, often at late nights and it became a ritual. One day I sang "My teacher shot an arrow, it passed all the way through./Now it's absence burns in my heart,/My restless body./My mind no longer wanders-love holds it hard/Now I am chained./Who knows my pain,except him?/Helpless, crying,lamenting, Friends bring him to me./Mira says, Giridhari,embrace me hard,or I will die."As I was singing this song I felt a beam of light leaping out from the image of Krishna and go around me. From that moment I always felt a divine presence encircling me in all my sleeping and waking moments.Soon I was married to the son of a neighbouring king. I went to my new home carrying Giridhari with me. My husband died fighting a battle,and my father in law also passed away after three months. My brother in law, the new king sent proposal of marriage to me.When I refused he became furious and saught out new ways of revenge. He ordered that no holy men, with whom I spent much of my time, should enter our premises. Twice he tried to kill me , once my sending a deadly green wasp in a beautiful jwellery box and another time a snake but I was left unharmed. Then he came with a cup of poison and forced me to drink it . The poison did go through my throat to my stomach but still I did not die. Next he tried to ravish me but failed in his attempt. I sat before Giridhari, cried and sang " Lifter of Mountains,I stand before you,I ask you to lift this shame/Mira says to her Master,"Return.You are my refuge,body and mind./I have slept with no other,your virgin through many lives."I felt that I should leave this place which had turned dangerous,and return to my parents. I came back and stayed with them for some time. Then I set out on a pilgrimage, visiting temples,singing songs and then one day Giridhari took me back to himself. Our lights merged for ever never to be separated. The song that I had sung"Like a bee trapped for life in the closing of the sweet flower/Mira has offered herself to her Lord./She says,the single Lotus will swallow you whole",came to be true. The blue Lotus swallowed me whole,and no trace of me was to be ever found.
