By her lotus face bowed down with a smile,
Showing the lovely lashes of her eyes to Cupid;
By her body's holding all the riches of youth
Conceived from a young heart's Lovely kingdom;
Her growing inclination still more used to passion
While her pride is not yet easily stirred:
The recent bride, Spring trying to express her
Willingness in winning of a heart for sure!!
The daisies turned to the moonlight and shook their yellow heads, and whispered to their neighbor Jasmines: seeing springtime is here like us to bloom!
Spring, the season of rejuvenation and rebirth, has captivated the imagination of our writers, who were enthusiastically participated in the Spring OS competition.
NormallySpring makes its own statement so loud and clear that the gardener Love seems to be the maker of that garden, but here, all our authors have nourished beautiful thoughts to show us what a floral garden in full bloom looks like, through their stories on some Divine couples.
We thank all the writers who participated and shared such great stories with us. All entries are so impressive. It will be difficult for our judges to select some of the best entries from the submitted stories.
Many thanks to all those who have expressed an interest in this contest.
Without further ado, let's go reading the enchanting Entries now!
I thank Minakshi our CM [mnx12] for her expert guidance, without which this contest was impossible. I also thank Sutapasima for her contribution through her beautiful Tags.
I must not forget to thank all the participants for being here with me to make this contest an interesting one
[Tags Credit: Sutapasima]Edited by Viswasruti - 11 days ago
Ram/Sita One Shot-The Embers of Love
"Sita," Ram whispered, pushing away the stray strand that was on his wife's face as she softly grunted in her sleep. The leaves of the trees outside were rustling gently, and the crickets were making noise in the far off distance and were disturbing the calm of the night but weren't loud enough to disturb his wife's sleep.
"Sita," He spoke a little loudly, unable to contain his excitement this time.
Sita opened her eyes to look at her husband, who was beaming like the moon in the sky.
"What time is it? Why are you awake? Is everything ok?" She couldn't help but panic, even though Ram's expressions were saying otherwise.
"Yes, but you need to wake up. I want to show you something!" Sita sighed and woke up.
"He is outside. He is fine," Sita nodded and pulled a thin shawl to cover herself.
Ram took her hand, and they walked into the thicket of the jungle. Laxman had only smiled excitedly at Sita and had silently promised Ram that he would keep a watch.
What had gotten the brothers so excited? Shaking her head, she looked at her husband, who stopped walking and signed at her to look. She looked at the thicket that was filled with fluttering fireflies.
Their yellow, shimmery light contrasted against the dark blue sky. The beauty of the scene in front of her made her gasp and smile.
"It is beautiful," She said. The fireflies looked so beautiful as they floated in the trees and the bushes; who seemed to have lost their color to the darkness of the night and were satisfied with the shadowy darker colors. The fireflies looked like the embers on fire that floated around as if they were remnants of the fire that had extinguished long ago.
She looked at Ram, but he was paying attention to her, not the fireflies.
And now Sita's breath hitched. The light of the fireflies was somehow reflected on Ram's face, and his usually beautiful face seemed to have found its enhanced, undeclared beauty. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open, drinking in his beauty.
"Are you ok?" He whispered, suddenly concerned.
"Yeah," She flushed.
"I knew you wouldn't want to miss this beautiful scene," He smiled like a child, radiant and innocent.
"No, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," She said but wasn't paying attention to the fireflies anymore. Ram gazed at her ever so lovingly and smiled.
"Do you want to go back?" He asked, and she nodded in a no. Ram nodded as if he knew that would be her answer and led her to a place in the bushes where they could sit. Sita rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and he wrapped his arm around her, the shawl covering them from the soft, cold winds.
"Sita, about today morning..." Sita blushed.
"You never told me you were so good at archery?"
"It never came up," she shrugged. Personally, she never felt she was that great at archery. The four sisters were trained in sword fighting and archery, but they never practiced post their marriage. Not that Sita complained about it. She was content. She didn't like violence and bloodshed as it is.
That morning, while Ram was bathing, she was sitting on the riverbank, watching him, and out of nowhere, a wild animal jumped on him, and Sita instinctively picked Ram's bow and arrow that were sitting near her and took a shot, and luckily, she got it right. It was as if she was consumed by the fire to protect him, nothing more, nothing less.
"It was nothing, Aarya,"
"You are humble. I would like you to join Laxman and me when we practice,"
"Sita..." He teased. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. She had seen the determination in his eyes and knew she couldn't get away with it.
"Sita, you are the most brilliant woman I have had the privilege to meet. It is an honour to see your different, hidden skills. But I wish for you to be yourself with me. I don't want you hiding behind any pretense that society imposes on you. You are purer and more brilliant than the fire that gives out its warmth, Sita, and you can't hide away your light from the world because the world can't handle it. "
"That's not what I do," She gasped. But she knew she was lying. With age, she and her sisters were told to be more ladylike. She was expected to behave in a certain way, and she was molded into that behaviour since she learned to speak, or maybe even before that.
She had no complaints about it, but at times, it did get suffocating. She knew Ram could sense it. And that is why she loved him so much; he knew her, he understood her, better than anyone else ever had.
"Maybe, it is the way it is supposed to be," She sighed and looked at the fireflies.
"But when you are with me, it needn't be that way," Ram said, and she looked up at him. He was smiling softly at her as if encouraging her.
"I'll try to join you two when you are practicing,"
"Laxman would like that," He said.
"And so would I," He smiled and kissed her forehead.
Sita smiled at her husband and look at the fireflies, flying freely, without a care of the world, in their bliss, spreading their light. It was why she loved the forest and the vanvas; it was what set her free from the expectations people had from their princess, their future queen.
She could enjoy the serenity nature offered, the moonlit night's whispers to the stars, her husband's company, his love and care, his warmth; without being worried about the royal traditions.
She never wanted it to end so that these moments of joy could last until the end of infinity. [ 998 words]
***************Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
Budha and Ila
The virescent trees swayed gently as a cool wind swam through them. The branches of the trees bowed with the weight of the ripe fruits that hung from them. Flowers beamed up at the sky in full glory. The river flowed with a quiet gurgling noise. The bushes of reed shushed along the banks as birds lined up on the tree branches singing harmonious melodies. The stunningly blue sky adorned itself with playful white clouds.
In the midst of this captivating scene, Budha sat under a tree. Despite sincere tries, he could not focus his mind upon meditation. The fragrance of the several blooming flowers had somehow penetrated the fortress of his indifference. Despite being the very controller of Nature, he felt overcome by her.
A faint tinkle of anklets floated to the ears of Budha. Giving up on his meditations for the day, Budha ventured in the direction of the pleasant noise.
Before the divine grove of the Mother Goddess kneeled a woman. She looked distraught. Several soldiers surrounded her. Budha cautiously approached the party. “Who is the lady? Who upset her this way?” He asked.
Fighting back tears he replied, “Sire, this is none but our King, the scion of the House of Surya! He has been struck by a curse for entering the Mother Goddess’s sacred grove! He has been cursed to become a woman every alternate month! When he is in the form of a woman, he has no recollection of his masculine self and vice versa! Say, what shall we do now?”
Budha quietly approached the lady. He gently lifted her face by placing two fingers under her chin. “Everything happens to serve a greater cause. Say, what is your name?”
“Maharaja Il.” A soldier prompted. She stared at him, still shaken. Budha addressed her companions, “Pray, return to your kingdom. Let his ministers govern. I shall take care of him.” Turning to the woman he said, “Ila, I am Budha, son of Chandra. My ashram is not far from here. Will you come with me?”
Budha gently led Ila into his chambers. She finally spoke, “Sire, shall I never regain any semblance of my identity? If I change my identity every month then who am I in reality?”
Budha sighed, “You should seek the answers to these questions within yourself. I cannot possibly understand the upheaval you are going through at this moment. I can promise one thing, keep reflecting, and you will find closure, at least.”
“Who in this world has ever heard of such absurdity? A man and a woman in a single body! Does even a single creature like me exist in nature?!”
Budha smiled, as he handed her a glass filled with soma juice, “They do exist, Ila, just not in the public eye. The human society has rejected them, and hence they serve celestial beings. Drink it now, it’ll do you good.”
He turned on his way out, “You are welcome in my residence for as long as you will need. If you require any assistance, just holler.”
Budha looked out of his window. Ila was strolling lazily in his garden, tending to the flowers. A month was almost over.
Budha sighed. His heart begged for what his mind opposed. In a day she would be gone. Maybe forever.
She looked up. As their eyes met, she beamed. She will not remember this. Budha’s heart ached for Ila. In the past month, he had developed quite an attachment to her. Who knows what the man will be like? Will he leave? What will he do next month? Will Il not remember Budha? Will he hate Budha for being a reminder of his curse? He looked out again. Ila was silently stroking a little bird perched on her slender fingers.
Night had come. The sky brimmed with twinkling stars. Buddha looked up at the moon, his father. What should I do? His eyes seemed to ask. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find Ila. “Tomorrow, I become a man.” She spoke.
Budha nodded, “You sound upset.” He said instinctively. “Thought you wanted to be a man?”
“I do want that,” She said. “But guess Ila will always be a part of Il. No matter what I do I cannot change that," she sighed, "May I ask a favour of you?” She asked. Budha nodded eagerly.
Tears brimmed in her eyes, “Please do not abandon me, even if I forget you. You were there for me when all else had left me. I will forget you tomorrow, you must not let me go!”
Budha smiled as he made up his mind, “There is only one way of making sure I hold good to that promise,” he put his arms on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes, “Marry me.”
Ila’s eyes widened in confusion, “Marry you? But I am not even a true woman!”
“I do not care about that, Ila. I have fallen in love with a pure soul, and I want to make it mine.”
“You deserve better, my Lord!” She exclaimed, “You deserve someone who shall not spend half of her life not knowing you!”
“Do you not want to marry me, Ila? Am I not good enough?” Budha questioned.
“No! I do, I really do! But,”
“What is the problem then?” He interrupted her, “Can you not see the love in my eyes? Believe me, I do not care if you’re a woman or a man. I simply want the heart that is beating within to be mine.
Come, let us get married right now. Look! The sun is rising from behind the mountains, but the moon has not yet set. Let them all bear witness as the solar and lunar lineages merge through our union!”
Budha embraced Ila as he gently planted a kiss on her forehead. The moon quietly slid into oblivion as golden rays drenched the couple. “We shall meet again, my love.” He whispered.
[1000 words]Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
The Sun rose in the lap of the vast sky, shining the entire Vrindavan with its illuminating smile. Shadowing in the depth of the Yamuna. It was the spring when flowers were blooming on the trees, when the excited Radha jumped from the swing made with the jasmines, dusting her hands off.
"Radha! What happened?", one of her friends asked the magnificent Radha.
Radha grinned, glancing towards the Sun, "I've a plan for this holi, to stain that mischievous Kanha", laughing while looking into her friend's eyes.
They ran away to find out the natkhat nandlala, but found him nowhere. Radha looked here and there in search of Kanha, but alas!
Meanwhile, someone splashed Yamuna's water into her eyes and forced her to look backward when two hands applied red Gulaal on her rosy cheeks. She shut her eyes tight and immediately filled her fists with the Gulaal running after the naughty Kanha.
He slipped out his flute to play the melodious tune and all the Gopi's thrilled to start the dance. Some of them stopped by their husbands who sprinkled the holi Gulaal on their cheeks and all of them started dancing on the tune of the flute, but Kanha fixed his flute on the belt again.
Filling both his fists with Gulaal, he smiled looking at her, but found Radha not in front of him. He splashed the Gulaal in her shining almond-shaped eyes and jumped on the hill near the Yamuna.
Radha became disappointed as she was in a mood to celebrate Holi in the spring. He again started playing the tune from his flute and Radha complained, "Natkhat Kanha, bada dhoort hai", at which he laughed looking at her pout.
Kanha arched his brow with a smirk, “Aur Radha itni gori kahe hai”
“Jao Yashoda Maiya se poocho”, Radha suggested him while hiding her laughter with her palm.
She was ignorant jumped over the swing and started swaying, when he jumped over the swing and started swaying with Radha.
All the Gopi's laughed, "Radha Raman hari Govind bolo", and the Indra's started showering the flowers on Radha-Krishna, at which they kept swaying when Krishna again played his flute.
The Gopi’s started dancing around both Radha and Kanha, holding their matki’s over their heads and swirl around the swing.
They kept swaying when Kanha jumped from the swing, “Maiya!!”, looking at his mother Yashoda laughing at both Kanha and Radha.
“Radha kyu gori, main kahe kaala”, Kanha bloomed his face down when Yashoda kissed her beloved son’s forehead but Kanha kept continuing himself, “I’veeaten Makhan then also I am not fair?”
Yashoda adored at her son's complain, “Sab ko pareshan kartahai isilie”, smacking his head.
Kanha pouted to look at Radha who teased him and filled her fists with color to stain him, but the mischiefs and smart Kanha again won, when he ran away to fist all the yellow colors and stain his Radha.
The flowers smiled when they bloomed, Sun sat and the Moon shines shadowing the Yamuna river, and the color sprinkled all over. However, Kanha and Radha were still celebrating holi and deity Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh were adoring them from the skies. The dev's were still showering flowers when Kanha kept playing with Radha, his raas-leela.
[ 543 words]Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
His Eternal Companion
Beauty is subjective. Krishn had always believed it strongly. What he found beautiful might not be something others found beautiful but one thing was for sure. Everyone found Rukmini beautiful.
From the spot Krishn was hiding, he saw Rukmini. He couldn't stop that smile from forming on his lips. As he drew in a breath. She was beautiful. Even with the half-hearted smile, she still looked beautiful.
"You are witness to the truth that this isn't some childish crush that I have developed for him. I know the truth in my heart that there could never be anyone but Krishn in my heart. I am not going against my family or my values or my culture, maa. You know that. I am asking for what is rightfully my fundamental right. I don't want to marry Shishupal. I would rather remain not married ever than marry anyone else but Krishn. How am I supposed to explain that to bhrata Rukmi? He had closed himself to any logical explanation or debate. If I had the choice, I would have at least tried to debate with him and try to explain to him why I have made that decision. I would have explained to him why I want to marry Krishn. If you too believe that what I am going to do is wrong, then I would be willing to accept the punishment you would give me." She told her heart's thoughts as she lit the diya in the tray arranged for pooja. She removed the old flower garland around the idol of Goddess Girija. Then replaced it with a new one that she had made. "But if you are with me and feel that my decision is right, then I wish for you to bless me."
She then prayed to the Goddess she had unwavering faith. The world might not understand her but her Goddess would understand her.
Krishn stood there looking at Rukmini. His Sri. His Lakshmi. His eternal companion. She was the cool breeze after the scorching sun. The soft evening between harsh afternoons and darkness of the night. Hadn't been a day when he hadn't thought of her. Since the moment Narada had told him about Rukmini, he had been in her thoughts. She filled his thoughts and his mind.
When Krishn looked at Rukmini, he could see his Sri in her. Determined. Strong-willed. Opinionated. Out-spoken and beautiful. He didn't know any other kind of outer beauty but his Lakshmi.
Once Rukmini had finished her prayers, Krishn came out of his hiding spot. She turned around and saw him. Krishn felt like time had stopped to let him admire her. Were there enough words in the universe to explain what his heart felt when she looked at him? She didn't remember. She was still unaware of her own divinity. Out of all moments he had to relive when he comes down to earth, it was the moment when he first meets her which is close to his heart.
"Krishn..." She said almost in a low voice. He almost closed his eyes. The way she said his name, it never sounded more beautiful. Her eyes scanned his peacock feather headdress, his ornaments. His yellow dhoti, his shoes, finally his alta decorated hands. She sighed softly as if it was just a dream. "Is this Hari's maya or my own lovesick heart imagining things?"
"Were you doubting that I'd come?" He asked.
"I don't know. I have been imagining him everywhere awfully lot. Got scolded around 10 times by bhrata Rukmi because I've been acting like a lovesick puppy. My friends complain that I daydream more about him than listen to their gossip. I stand in the temple of Narayan but I keep seeing him."
Krishn smiled. Who says one needs memory to feel eternal love? He offered her his hand.
"How about you take my hand and I'll show you that this isn't a dream or your imagination?"
Still, in that haze of the thought that it was her imagination, she walked to him and put her hand in his. He held her hand. He let her realize that this was real. Her facial expressions started changing as the truth came to her.
"Yes, I'm listening."
"No. You're really here?"
"Yes. Where else in the world would I even be? You asked me to come to take you away with me, why would I not be here then?"
Soon, panic filled her when she remembered the situation. She dashed and looked down from the door of the temple. She saw Jarasandh, Rukmi, Shishupal, and their armies stationed there.
"Oh. no. Oh no. How are we going to make an escape? There is a route from the back of the temple but that would require us to actually go down the stairs. We can't jump from the window behind. The moment they see you, they will actually start a war..." She started pacing.
If she wasn't panicking so much, he would have found her ranting adorable.
"Sri, lis-" He closed his eyes. Rukmini. Rukmini. He was supposed to call her Rukmini. "Rukmini." Krishn stopped her.
"No, no. You have no idea who bloodthirsty they are for you right now. Jarasandh is already waiting to kill you. Bhrata Rukmi will kill both of us." She worried.
"No one would touch you as long as I'm there. Trust me, Rukmini. Leave that to me. I will take us safely to Dwarka. I'm not kidnapping you. I am taking you away with me because you want to come with me. I will take you away from right under their nose." The way his eyes twinkled with mischief, Rukmini smiled.
Krishn was here. Who could stop them now? Shishupal would never be able to touch her anymore. Her Krishn was here.
Rukmini wrapped her arms around. If there was bliss, it was this. It had been so long since he had felt the peace that he could only find with her. In her love. In her company. His world had always been incomplete without her. It would always be incomplete without her. They were together again. They will always find their way to each other. [ 1030 ]
-----------------------Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
Whispers of Spring
It was a cold night, resplendent in the light of the moon and countless twinkling stars. A woman stood in the balcony gazing at the sky wistfully. She was decked in royal finery, the golden threads in her flame red lehenga shimmering in the moonlight; her odhni trailed carelessly behind her.
She breathed in the scent of luscious roses from the palatial garden. A nightingale sang hauntingly in the distance. Spring would be here soon. The cold fingers of winter were retreating, she could feel it in her bones. The woman wore no jewels, except for her precious silver anklet – a gift from her mother two winters ago.
Her birthdays were grand celebrations in Kishangarh, bringing people from all over India to the kingdom. Even Gods had been known to visit, curious about the enchanting woman that had the heart of one of their own. When she had been borne, a sage had taken one look in sleepy amber eyes and declared her a goddess reincarnate. Her destiny had been branded on her like her given name.
It was a destiny she refused to accept in this lifetime.
Princess Mohana looked like a painter’s dream, a poet’s muse this blessed night. Her form was lithe, movements graceful as she twirled, long dark hair swaying in the wind. She loved nights like these, quiet with a promise of something more. Her heart brimmed with inexplicable joy.
She halted mid twirl, as the lilting tune of a flute reached her ears. Her eyes widened in recognition. No, it couldn’t be. The tune became louder, playing on her senses like an intoxicating drug. She backed away, her heart thudding painfully. The flute called to her, urging her to come. Eager feet rushed her downstairs, past startled servants.
Mohana broke into the palace gardens, her chest heaving. Her doe like eyes searched the darkness, looking for one who enticed and terrified her at the same time. The music brought her closer to the Kadamba tree; stopping when her gaze landed on a figure leaning against the trunk, his back towards her. Dark curling locks of hair teased the nape of his neck, the shadow of a peacock feather swaying in the breeze.
She waited with bated breath as he lowered the instrument.
“Mohana…” The whisper of her name on his tongue sent shivers down her spine. “Were you waiting long for me?”
His question sparked her ire. Stepping closer, she glared at his back, the skin almost blue under the moonlight. “I think I waited forever, my Lord. And you never came.”
“I am here now.” He turned towards her, the perfection of his features stunning her momentarily. A boyish smile on his lips, he fixed magnetic eyes on her. “Will you not forgive me, Radha?”
She gasped, stepping back in affront. “That is not my name! That will never be my name again.”
Undeterred, he walked towards her leisurely. “Call yourself whatever you wish. You will always be mine.” He caught her wrist as she turned away; his touch a burn, a longing, a deep hurt in her soul.
She swiveled towards him, a sharp retort dying on her lips at his chuckle. He tugged her closer, the energy of the whole universe radiating from him. “I have come for you tonight. Won’t you forgive me, Mohana?”
His eyes were blackholes and the sun and the galaxies, and if she looked into them anymore, she would be lost. Tugging her wrist free, she nursed it against her chest. He had marked her again. He should never have touched her. “No,” she told him, looking away. “Never will I forgive you, Kanha.”
“What is the meaning of ‘never’ in infinity, my sweet?” His hand caught her chin, forcing her to look into his enigmatic eyes. “You and I…We are one and the same. Just like your name is a part of my essence, Mohana, so is your soul woven from mine.”
“I refuse to let you be my destiny…not this time,” she whispered, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I wrote my love for you on my palms and you gifted me with a lifetime of loneliness, a tormenting wait that only ceased at my dying breath. I refuse to be yours anymore.”
His hand shifted to cup her cheek, thumb tracing the lines of her cheekbones. “You waited only because you searched for me without. Had you searched within, you would have found me in you, with you, in every step, in every moment.” His forehead touched hers, his warm breath mingling with hers. “We are not separate, my love. So why did you wait?”
“You may have a honeyed tongue,” she breathed shakily, eyelashes fluttering shut. She could drown in his fragrance. He smelled like the earth, the sky, the very stars. “But this time-”
His lips on hers silenced her. It was a soft, insistent brush of his mouth against hers that sent a piercing yearning through her. She gasped as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Her one hand pushed at his hard chest, even as the other one tangled in his dark curls. He laughed against her lips, breaking their kiss.
“Resistance is futile, my love.” She opened her mouth indignantly, but he placed a finger over her lips, mirth shining in his eyes. “Look around you. Basant is here.”
She followed his gaze, watching in shock at flowers blooming all around the garden. The nightingale had picked up a merry tune, adding to the chirruping of insects. Beside her, some of the orange flowers of the Kadamba tree fell at her feet.
“How did…Did we-?” When she turned towards him, her question lodged in her throat. No one was there.
Look for me within, Radha. For you, and I…are one and the same.
She shivered at the whisper near her ear.
Radha closed her eyes in surrender and sighed, and her one sigh gave breath to new life all over her kingdom.
Basant was indeed here.
---------------Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
The Forgotten Wife
She had realised that her life was left to fend for herself by a husband who never returned or recalled her. Though she was a rakshasi, well equipped to defend herself and her son, it was agonizing that her husband never sought her out. In the battle of Dharma and justice, Hidimba was deprived of both. Neither anyone cared to fulfil their dharma towards her nor she ever got justice.
She was sent by her brother to kill the Pandavas and their mother Kunti. But instead of killing them and enjoying their flesh as Rakashas are supposed to, she was infatuated and fell in love with the strong and handsome Bheema.
She had taken the form of a beautiful woman and went to him.
"I am Hidimba, my brother is a demon, he will eat all of you." She had confessed without even thinking of the consequences.
"Don't worry, I am strong enough to defeat your brother." Bheem had replied with a smile.
When Hidimba did not return for a long time, her brother Hidimb had gone looking for her and had found her with Bheem.
"I sent you to kill the human and you are wasting the opportunity. I will kill him myself." Saying so, he attacked Bheem.
A fierce fight had followed and ended with Bheem killing Hidimb. The thunderous roars of the two fighters had woken the four Pandavas and Mata Kunti. Hidimba had told them that she was a demoness and wished to marry Bheem. With Kunti's permission the marriage had taken place. After some time Hidimba had given birth to Ghatotkacha.
When Kunti and the Pandavas had decided to leave of Hidimba and Ghatotkacha, he promised the Pandavas that he would come to them, whenever they needed him.
Later, she lost her son in the battle between members of a family of which she could never be a part of.
She knew her husband had a different life, she knew he had promised Draupadi that he would never bring his first wife to the town. Still, she never complaint. But she could not stop her from waiting for him.
She couldn't cheat the mother inside her. The grief of losing her son made her live in misery. She tried her best to hide her tears from the world. But she couldn't conceal them from her daasi and best friend, Anusulya.
Anusulya has been her constant support since her husband has left her. She had found her loitering in the forest one day and had brought her to the kingdom.
"Do you think I should send a message to Yuvraj Bheem?" She asked again when Hidimba was wiping her silent tears sitting near the river.
"No. He is devoted to Draupadi, I can't make him break his promise to her. Also, he has suffered a lot after the war ended his other sons also died. He must be miserable now." Hidimba replied.
"But he is your husband. He has some responsibilities towards you too." Anusulya tried to convince her.
"I said, no. He may have forgotten that he has another wife who is crying over her lost son, who knows that husband would never show up and still she is waiting for him. With a hope that may be someday, her love for him would bring him back to her. May be not for ever, but for few days, or few hours or few minutes." Hidimba said in a low tone. "But I know, that day would never come. We can never meet again."
Anusulya sighed. It's time for her to know the truth, she decided.
When Hidimba walked towards her house after taking a bath next morning, her eyes widen with the sight in front of her. There stood, the forever strong and handsome, Bheem.
He still looked the same. No- he had grown more handsome. She walked silently towards him. He still had the same effect on her, she realised. As she looked in his eyes, she felt just like old days. She recalled those pleasant waits, those yearning eyes and their thirsty sights, the unfinished talks and those hungry arms.
"Swami..." As soon as those words left her mouth, she realised that she was crushed into his strong arms.
She hugged him back tightly as tears rolled down her eyes.
"I am sorry, Hidimba." She finally heard his voice. "I made you suffer a lot."
"You did." She said still holding him tightly.
"I know." Bheem sighed. "It was difficult for me to leave you and our son alone, so I sent Anusulya to take care of you."
"What?" She broke the hug.
"Yes. She was my mother's favorite daasi. I requested her and sent her to you so that I can always be aware of your whereabouts. Everything you shared with her, she told me."
"Why?" She asked.
"Because I am the partner of your happiness and grief. They are meant to be shared with me." Bheem said in his forever possesive voice.
Hidimba chuckled. She was so wrong about him. She thought he forgot her but in reality, he took care of her always.
"You just set an example of, you don't need to stay together to prove your love." Tears rolled down her eyes.
"You too." Bheem wiped her tears off. "You had a never-ending wait for me. And didn't even complain when our son died."
"I wish I could stay with you." She said holding his hand.
"You know I am devoted to Panchaali. I don't have a choice. But my love for you would never fade away." He said cupping her cheeks.
"I know." She kept her hand on his. "But maybe you can stay with me for some time? That would be enough for the rest of my life."
Bheem nodded. Hidimba smiled and pulled him with her. She knew her husband truly loved her. She could never ask for more. She walked with him towards her house, his hand in hers, and love in their hearts.
(Word count - 1000)
___________Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
Title: The Immolated Love
“You are the truth. And whatever is the truth is Sati! You might dismiss me but you cannot dismiss the fact that I am Shakti, the beloved of her Shiv.” She said, those eyes of hers burning with determination as they looked into his unfeeling ones as she spoke. Her lips didn't tremble even a bit when those words decided to leave her mouth. But instead, his resolve trembled and shattered. His ignorance towards her shattered in pieces as he saw her embracing her true form as his Shakti.
He was frozen. Seeing the Lord of Destruction, everyone bowed down as a mark of respect while Lord Vishnu and Lord Brahma greeted him. But Mahadev was too grief-stricken to greet them back. His eyes never left the burning body of her as he started walking forward. Seeing her burn, he wanted to lash at Agni Dev but he knew it would be wrong. As it wasn't the fire of Agni Dev that now engulfed her body like a shroud. Instead, it was her energy. The energy of Shakti, his Shakti. He knew her. For her his insult was unbearable. She couldn’t bear to stay in her mortal form and be the daughter of Prajapati who insulted her beloved Mahadev so ruthlessly.
“Why did you leave me alone my Lord? Why? Am I not your wife? Your better half?” She asked slightly hurt that he left her alone at night to go to his devotees. She knew they needed him. She knew even they needed their Mahadev but how should she pacify herself. How should stop her heart from hurting? Mahadev looked up to her eyes which were now glistened with tears. He knew she was hurt but he also knew he was helpless. So he kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder as he tried to pacify her, “My dear, you are my wife. I am your better half. The one who is incomplete without you. But For the ones who devote their entire beings to me, I cannot be selfish to not let them see me. And when have I left you alone my dear? You are Shakti, the cosmic energy. You are everywhere. You are even inside me. How can Shiv ever be separated from his Shakti?”
Her anger over him going to meet his devotees and leaving her alone. Her being in the mortal body had made her vulnerable to human vices such as jealousy. She couldn't control it. He knew that hence he knew he had to pacify his angered wife. But now, when she immolated herself in her anger he couldn't do anything. He was helpless, He could only watch her burn her mortal remains as he kneeled down near her body.
“I am Dakshayani, the daughter of Prajapati Daksh. I don't need an invitation to go to the Yagna he is conducting.” Sati said angrily. “Don't do it Sati, you are Dakshayani, but now you are also married to someone he abhors. He won't just see you as his daughter but also see you as his nemesis’s wife” Mahadev tried to make his wife understand the consequences of her going uninvited to her father’s Yagna. “Never! I can never believe my father thinking of me like that. I have made my mind about going there. And no one, not even you, my Lord can stop me from going there.” Sati said determinedly as she walked away from where he sat. Having turned her back towards him she couldn't see the melancholy look her husband had on his face as he watched her walk away. He knew this was destined. But somewhere Mahadev wished he could be selfish. Selfish in love.
He knew at that time that if he had been compulsive enough then he wouldn't have seen this day. But he knew this was destiny. Destiny of his Shakti going towards her true identity and forcing her would’ve resulted in snatching it away and Mahadev could never bear to snatch the identity of his Shakti from her. Tears of anger and desperation fell from his eyes as he took her burning mortal remains in his arms and started walking away. No one dared to stop him, lest his anger over his wife’s death might burn them from his third eye.
The ever-smiling Lord Vishnu had a melancholy look while he saw Mahadev walk away with Sati’s burning body in his arms. His heart ached for the two lovers. But he knew that this was needed. “Why did it happen, my Lord? Aren’t Shakti and Shiv meant to be together? Then why after a long separation, Devi Shakti finally met her Mahadev only to separate?” Devi Lakshmi asked her husband. Lord Vishnu looked up to his wife and with a slight smile, he said, “Where is Devi Shakti separated from Mahadev, my dear? Without Shakti, Shiv is lifeless. Just like how a body is dead without its soul. Devi Shakti is energy while Mahadev is the being. Together they are one. And no one can separate them. But for the betterment of the world, even Shiv and Shakti need to sacrifice. To show the world that even we, the immortal beings, the Gods have to sacrifice for love.” “Can’t Mahadev resurrect Devi Sati?” Devi Lakshmi asked. “He can, but he won't.” Lord Vishnu replied confusing Devi Lakshmi, “Why my Lord? When Mahadev has the power to resurrect her then why won't he?” “Because he doesn't want to insult Devi Shakti. She immolated herself to honour him after he was ruthlessly insulted by the father of her mortal being. To revive her is to insult her. And Mahadev can never do that to her. Even if it means to live without her he will but he won't let her immolation go in vain. And now only Devi Shakti can decide when they reunite. And I am sure she won't take too long.” Lord Vishnu paused, “Because even Shakti is incomplete without her Shiv.”
Word Count: 991Edited by Viswasruti - 6 days ago
Topic started by Viswasruti
Last replied by Pranushka_723