May this story rest at the feet of Radha,
and in every circle drawn under moonlight,
may her heartache teach us that those who wait without certainty compose music the world will always need.

In the tradition of Raas Leela—the celestial dance performed by Krishna on the full moon night of Sharad/Raas Poornima—every gopi felt herself the center, yet the circle always moved, the union endlessly deferred.
Radha's heart alone held both the ecstasy of being chosen and the wisdom of not claiming.
Mystical separation is the true root of Raas:
It is not simply pain but the birth of love's highest form—where devotion grows not out of possession, but out of the willingness to let even God be free.

On Raas Poornima's night, devotees set bowls of milk sweetened with longing under the full moon.
Radha's ache is the secret ingredient—the sugar that cannot be claimed, only remembered.
In every year's moonlit circle, hers is the step that teaches us to dance in the absence,
to welcome the ache as the proof that the heart is awake and the circle, still open.

This novel is for all who know that the finest grace is found just outside the embrace—
and that the music, like Radha's whisper, endures where union never closes the dance.