The gopis are lining their eyes with kajal — when from far off comes the sound of Krishna's flute. At that sound alone they forget where they are and what they were doing, and rush to him all at once. One of them has darkened only a single eye, the other still quite bare — but hearing the flute she runs just as she is, with kajal on one eye alone, never even noticing that the other has been left undone. Krishna sees her and thinks: how lovely she is! More beautiful with one eye done than she would be with both. And why? Because to come to meet your beloved only half made up — this is the very sign of anuraga, of deep love, of burning utkantha, the eagerness to meet: "I could not wait a single moment." And then Krishna takes the kajal from her hand — and paints the other eye for her himself. And she, half made up, grows drunk with sudden good fortune.