Kärsiä
Verb | Meaning :
To suffer from, endure

The tarpaulin of the where the fiery sun had once kissed the vaults of heaven earlier in the day had darkened into a lurid smoky hue. This was the primal ominous caveat Aakarshika should have taken a glimpse of, but she stayed hidden in the soothing shadows of her bed chamber.

A svelte and wispy physique was draped across the velvety sheets of a faded teal that were of silk. Her half closed orbs were the lilac tinge of a hazy and ashen twilight. She was a beautiful and ethereal nymph that had incarnated in the form of a mortal.

And yet, this otherworldly being bore the burden of silvery scars that glowed in the moonbeams, never destined to be hers.

The heart that had been tapping out a soothing rhythm, akin to the gentle drops of rain falling from the elysium onto a sword was now missing beats, palpitating as the strong wooden doors of Aakarshika's antechamber were slammed into vehemently.

The King of Chedi stormed in, his eyes wild in a murderous passion as his gaze searched for his firstborn. He found her, staring back at him with verdure orbs that had once belonged to her mother.

A snarl escaped him and with a mighty growl, he unleashed the whip that was wrapped around his rough palm. The howling sound the leather lash created elicited a flinch from Aakarshika, as she quivered in fear for she knew what was about to happen.

With a malicious jeer twisting his distorted features, Shishupala strode towards the drapes that shrouded his daughter and wrapped his gnarly fingers around her loose tresses that fell down to her thighs.

"Pitashree!" Aakarshika cried out, tears pooling into oceans in her eyes as she was dragged onto the gleaming ceramic tiles by her father. "I'm sorry, please!" She sobbed, seeking forgiveness for a sin that was not hers.

She curled into herself, attempting to hide from the beast that mirrored the reflection of a savage ogre. With no mercy or compassion twinkling in his stoic gaze, Shishupala flicked the whip back and leapt into the air, bringing the animal hide down on the tender skin of Aakarshika with a deafening CRACK!

"MATAA!" Aakarshika screamed in agony, writhing in anguish as black dots danced mocking in her vision. Blood seeped from the deep cut and trickled onto the cream toned floor, slithering like a snake as it became the sole witness to the injustice happening.

Shishupala brought his foot back and powerfully hurled it against the ribs of the Princess of Chedi. Another howl of misery slipped past her lips and tears trickled down her wheatish complexion.

Stomping on the delicate wrist of Aakarshika, he watched with a sadistic smile twitching at his lips as he abraded her hand until he heard the sound of bones shattering into two.

The step-daughter of Kathyayini now only moaned in torment as Shishupala knelt down next to her. Metal scraped against metal as he unsheathed a dagger that glinted wickedly in the dim light of the flickering diyas.

Without a second of reluctance, he plunged the bayonet into the supple thigh of Aakarshika that was clothed by periwinkle lehenga, the same shade of her eyes as they closed while her lips let out a final shattering shriek.

"MAHADEVA!"
The mauve tulle was now in a dark tincture of deep magenta, blood now blanketing her body. Spitting at the limp and unconscious form of his daughter that had barely seen sixteen autumns, Shishupala walked to the snan-kaksh.

Lowering his grotesque face that had drops of blood to the cool water, he let the beholder of the crimes he committed be washed away. But the blood on his soul couldn't fade that easily.

Casting a final glance at Aakarshika, Shishupala let his lips curve into a sated sneer as he left her chamber, the metallic dagger still embedded in her thigh.

Aakarshika now stood on an arch that cohered the earth and heaven, her longing gaze fixed on the magnificent ivory hued palace that was reigned by Indra.

"Not yet my beloved daughter. Fight a bit longer...Just a bit more. You are strong my Aaru, you always have been. The haven you desire is almost upon you, be strong."

The final words drifted into a murmur as the stunning viridescent eyes of Aakarshika snapped open. It was then she would perceive she had nearly been in the hands of Yama Deva for sixteen days, left to the mercy of her fate.

And it was that day that Aakarshika swore on the blood that surged through her veins with simmering, electrical fury that was waiting to be avenged. She would never be in such a pitiful state again, for she had vowed to her mother she would be strong...And Aakarshika had never wrecked a solemn oath.

The golden sphere dipped behind the proud and verdant hills around the main city, motioning the avifauna to call it a day as well. The dying balmy rays casted an exquisite komorebi everywhere, the kadamba trees driving him nostalgic of his times and monkey business at Vraja. The ever agile death's twin was physically in sight as well in her river goddess form, stretching a farther distance from Shakraprastha.

The lord of Dvaravati smiled, and it seemed as if the lunar lord hadn't let the eldest Aaditya set off completely and arrived at once, sprawling his serene opulence on the mortal children of VishnuVilasini and dazzling them in a self-pleased fashion.

Chandra was unambiguously as notorious and loving as his sister, his brother-in-law did not have to reckon about it secondly.

The silhouette on the bellowing curtains halted, as did the racing peacock feather quill on the ocherous parchment marking atramentous letters, her smaragdine eyes flying to catch a glimpse of the crawling noirceur in the ambience. Aakarshika let the nib down, interlocked her fingers and gave a long stretch against the chair she was settled on as a yawn escaped her lips.

"Ah, finally," Ashwatthama groaned, grabbing the attention of his fellow aesthetes settling on the dewy grass of the parterre, his lips twisting into a slight pout. The translucent curtains were then drawn away, letting the faint light to grace the residence of the crown Princess who gingerly peeked out of the glass, the void in her bosom now seeming to physically manifest on her pulchritudinous features.

"Give her sometime, will you?" Yudhishthira murmured back, putting a hand over his friend who had softened at the sight of his Sakhi's sagged body language. "It's been a couple of days and Kalyani says she's been overworking herself, a little time and she'll be alright. She says it's a paradoxical positivity, she doesn't have the choice but to be alright." He further leaned in to converse such that nobody else would be bothered.

"-Shri Narasimha Mahavira, Namami Rinamuktaye," Her lips danced to pronounce a psalm to the half-lion lord as Aakarshika bowed reverently to the sun bidding goodbye, her gaze rooted to the caelum splashed in oranges and reds.

It would seem cruel, selfish, and very much unvirtuous of her to not feel the despondency at her father's demise. Aakarshika winced internally, a devious smile crawling to her lips as she slowly ambled away from the sight of the spectators before returning with the lamps.

Taunts, jeers, sneers and whatnot...the memories were cruelly ambiguous. The green eyed monster they'd talk of? She realised it was her all along...the green-eyed monster who was envy personified. Aakarshika was cognizant of the monstrosity indeed transpiring in her. It was choking, and all she wanted then was to curl up in a ball or just scream at the top of her lungs. It was physically draining to dwell in the past and curse her fate, question the ways of the lord and still cling to him. It was a toxic paradox and she loved the shade of grey streaking her soul.

The lotus wicks were doused in oil and set ablaze by another oil lamp. She was cognizant of bearing the fire within her to light her state in its dark times.

It wasn't like she bereaved anyway, she'd not lie about it frankly. She loved the feeling a bit too much, tsk! Too cold of her to not think of her family who was sent the message and wept at the loss of a member. Aakarshika never minded the Tamasa in her, it wasn't like it was completely vicious. She was allowed to be inclined to the ebony sides, to rejoice in the death of her foes and not feel empathy, to enkindle the wishes of her heart and mind without having to be selfless.

It was just different, so was she. The darkness felt a bit too calming than it should have, the feeling was a bit too joyous to her soul whipped and marred in crimson lines and she regretted nothing of it. Nothing.

She loved the flavour of metallic crimson in an unapologetic praxis, her finger now pressed between her plump lips to sooth the burn searing in the cold flesh of her nimble fingers.

"I and Dhrishta plan to leave a day later," She had told Yudhishthira who had to yield to her demands, "Chedi's throne demands a heir and as the eldest scion of the newest generation, it is my duty to see the welfare of the state afore personal interests, Samrat. Not your Sakhi, Rajkumari Aakarshika pleads with you for the allowance to complete the final rites of her father at their place."

Haunted a damsel was by the trickles of scarlett painting her golden fizzog in the hue of a sinister. Nobody but Hari had been the witness to her muted gasps gagged by her own hands. Dragging her mind away from the nebulous flashbacks of the doom of Shishupala, his daughter brushed the vestiges of fret to serve as the temple of the deity called Rājadharma.

It was not the time to revel in her bare skin or holler in angst and she had refused to meander her ways to the tides intending to drown her.

The next thing she knew, her sneaky friends had seized her in their grasp and tied a blindfold around her eyes, unknowingly soaking the muslin with the mild saline blood they hadn't noticed were pooling in her waterline decked in the onyx of Kohl.
Was it the time to cosplay Maharani Gandhari? It most certainly wasn't but Yudhishthira could be roguish at times. People won't believe it but she had witnessed it.

"Sakha-"

"Seal your lips, there's a surprise for you Aaru!" The squeak that DronaPutra gifted her with was soused in so much enthusiasm, she couldn't help but cast away the thin layer of apathy, and smile. The two lead her to the very same parterre everyone had gathered by now and the hushed whispers, giggles and the lone sigh from the owner of melancholic euphoria wasn't missed by Aakarshika's warrior hearing instincts trained to pick up the slightest of sounds. Enthusiasm built in her like the foaming of oceanic cerulean waters, awaiting to be quenched by the epiphany.

The caress of the grass on her bare soles made her aware of her vicinity as the princess folded her hands to greet the ones whose presence she could recognise, the ones around formality needed to be maintained. "Sakha, what is this immaturity?" She whisper-yelled, halfly miffed as the time stopped the very next moment.

"Abhi?"

Aakarshika found her sanity wickedly abandoning her. Her mouth turned into sandpaper and knees were jelly as she let the voice sit on her mind, the address eliciting a shock as her heart dropped into her guts. That name...

"Pitamahi?"

Lady Shrutashrava's hands rose to encompass her grandchild dazed in caligo, "It's indeed you, my emerald." Her grandmother's voice was still the wave of tranquillity she craved. The watery irises creased in old age's gruesomeness crashed with ones of viridity and olive hue, saudade deluging them.
Decked in a maroon saree with aureate borders was Shishupala's mother, the simple look complementing her bronze skin that glinted when the ravenous flames kindled in slender torches highlighted them. Aakarshika rushed in the arms of her grandmother gently, and was encapsulated perfectly against her frame. Pushing the wretched tears back, she snuggled a little closer and let go when it seemed appropriate. "I missed all of it. Your battles, your growing up, your girlhood times. You...you have grown into a fine woman and I cannot be prouder. Did your parents ever tell you how precious you are, little one?"

Abhi remembered, the scent of familiarity still exuding out of her Pitamahi. She remembered the times she'd rove around the latter, demanding stories and would be proffered affection in abundance. "My little Abhi," Shrutashrava would say, cradling her in her arms and kissing her salmon eyelids, the mellifluous giggles of the little girl melting into her ears clad in ostentatious kundalas. "Do you know what the angel who was born from the almighty himself was known as?"

Little Aakarshika would crane her head to the side, bluffed, as her tiny arms wrung around Shrutashrava's neck affectionately, "I am afraid I don't, Pitamahi."

"She bore so much of charisma in her pristine soul, they christened her 'Aakarshika'."

She remembered how she had left for pilgrimages when she had seen no more than six summers. When she had pouted and cried in melancholy, her Mata Katyayani had lovingly cooed and hushed her up. ChediKumari had remembered only her Pitamahi's features due to the paintings embossing the walls of Mahameghavahana's castle and faint memories of their times together surfaced her mind for seldom jovial occurrences came to her.
Vasudeva's sister rained her darling in praises and blessings, kisses smothering her and affection pouring out of her heart. Haplessly, Aakarshika never knew how to react to such statements.

"I am glad you are back Pitamahi." A gulp descended her throat as she forged a formal look and smile to her face and the lady cradled her visage in her wrinkled palms.

"Oh no, I overwhelmed you didn't I, Abhi?" She jabbered, pulling up her saree's end to wipe the remote existence of sweat from Aakarshika's face, subconsciously admiring the faint scars which stretched whenever the maiden smiled. The Pandava brothers along with Krishna's wives scampered to bow at the Rajmata of Chedi who beamed at them, though the sheen of sorrow at being rendered a vilomah never left her and it was natural to not, in the future as well.

"No, you are tiring yourself Pitamahi. I hope you have been in good health." Aakarshika bent to brush her fingertips on the pious woman's feet when another pair of hands accompanied her. Krishna smiled amiably at the blank look thrown his way, mouthing a greeting before the duo returned to their heels.

"Pranipat PitriBhagini," His smooth baritone was enough for his aunt to let loose the barricades of her vatsalya, eager to grasp and tie the almighty with her unconditional love.

Aakarshika internally quelled at the possibilities. The last thing one would want was Shrutashrava loosening the dam of her sorrows, her nephew's sight would constantly seem like a wound on her failed and deserted womb and motherhood. "Aayushman Bhava, Laala."

Sighing in relief, Aakarshika failed to notice the surprised looks thrown her way and wouldn't have given a flying rat's ass either way. Mental and emotional peace had always been prioritised and her inner self would not wish another fissure in the relationship, post one of them had healed or lacerated - she couldn't exactly tell. Her Pitamahi won't be blinded in attachment to take a felonic step and regret her impetuousness later, would she? For the thread once broken would only sustain with a knot and nothing else. Chedi needed serenity to flourish, and so did she.

Shrutashrava threw herself against her nephew, giving into the obstinate sobs that were caged inside of her. Unbeknownst of the ways to offer comfort and eventually letting the arm that had risen up to succour her Pitamahi drop to her side, Aakarshika stepped back respectably, distancing herself from the duo.

Krishna smiled a despondent smile, a lone tear lamenting at the corner of his lotus eyes as he murmured apologies and words of wisdom, all that were lost to his weeping aunt.

What was the source of sorrow to her grandmother proved to be a salve to her soul in ramshackles.

He won't be coming back. Ever.

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