Radha and Krishna come toward Radha-kunda from opposite sides, and even from far off, the moment they catch sight of each other, they lose themselves in joy. As Radhika draws near, the whole forest floods with her golden radiance, and for a moment Krishna is lost: have I wandered into golden Ilavrita-varsha? Then he stares at that flash: is it lightning? No — it cannot be lightning, for lightning lives in the sky, and this one burns upon the earth. And Radhika, gazing at him, cannot place him either: is that a tamal tree, dark and slender, risen in the middle of the wood? Again and again they meet — and still they cannot believe their eyes, mistaking the beloved for a tree, for a flash in the sky, for a trick of sight. Only after drinking in these phantoms do they decide at last: no, it is my beloved who has come. So many times they have met — and still the eyes refuse to believe.