Poornahuti
Only now she understands that extra-long minute he spent holding her at the gates of his kingdom.
Only now she understands the melancholic smile behind heavily curtained agony that he sent in her direction when she turned to look back at him after crossing a hundred yards.
Only now she understands why he said "good-bye" but not "I'll see you soon".
She knows this is the end – of her own existence and also of her father. It didn't take a divine entity to predict that.
A spark ignites in her and the anger that courses through her veins adds fuel to that spark turning it to a roaring fire. Words hurl in her direction; words which are like poisoned thorns.
"What virtue does that husband of yours have?" Question floats in a limbo of hung words and aggravated pride.
Her answer comes out in a jaded whisper, "He is virtue". The silence that follows her answer is only momentary.
"Do you think he fits in being on par with the Gods, my daughter? With his ash covered skin and his waist adorning skin of an animal and wandering amongst the dead, do you think he can be one of the bearers of poornahuti?
She chuckles mirthlessly and says, "He is poorna. He consumes everything this world doesn't want, cannot afford to have; even your pride."
Her words are now just above whisper and she is deaf to the debate and commotion surrounding her. A hum settles around her and she realizes that it's the hum of crackling fire. Its heat warms her arms as she finds herself walking towards the sacred pyre. The decision was sealed the moment she set foot in the palace. It wasn't a matter of why but a mere matter of when she would end her life.
She hears a cry of a woman, her mother probably, as she urges the spark in her to roar to a fire. She closes her eyes and the tears that she withheld for several moments finally spill.
I am sorry. Her heart wrenches in pain at the thought of leaving him.
And then she walks into the holy pyre.
She doesn't know if it was the light from the pyre or the shine from the stars. Or was that heaven? She remembers only him as she feels dissolving into pure energy leaving her human form behind to burn. She was consumed by the consciousness that defined and shaped him.
It was now only a matter of time till chaos descended upon earth. One who brought order also brought chaos when the world needed a cleansing.
~~o00o~~
The collective consciousness of Bramha, Saraswati, Vishnu and Lakshmi reverberated at the moment of her immolation. They braced themselves at the aftermath that they knew was going to come.
He wouldn't take his beloved's sacrifice lightly.
He wouldn't be Shiva.
He would be Rudra.
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