Glossary:

Terms/Concepts:

Mokshapuri – another name for Dwaraka meaning the land worthy of granting liberation

Bansuri – name for Krishna's flute

Makhan - butter

Kaumodaki mace – the mace of Lord Vishnu

venu gaan – the flute music of Krishna

Goloka Vrindavana – the spiritual abode of Sri Krishna

Sodhari - sister

Gaudiya Vaishnavism – a Vaishnava religious movement inspired by Chaitanya Mahaprabhu in India

Ksheer Sagara – the ocean of milk on which Lord Vishnu reclines on Sheshanaga with his consort Lakshmi

Other Characters:

Mahadev – another name for Lord Shiva meaning 'the God of Gods'

Vishwakarma – the Hindu God known as the divine architect

Trimurti – the triad (3 main) gods of Hinduism known for their unique role in the cosmic manifestation (Brahma – creation, Vishnu – maintenance, Shiva – destruction)

Devi Yogamaya – the sister of Krishna; the divine power/energy of the Lord by which creation is enabled; Subhadra was known to be an incarnation of Yogamaya

Aadishesha – another name for Sheshanaga

Dwarakeshwari – another name for Devi Rukmini meaning 'Goddess of Dwaraka'

Sri Venkateshwara – a form of Lord Vishnu; the presiding deity of Tirumala Venkateshwara Temple located in Tirupathi (Andra Pradesh, India); known to be the avatar of Maha Vishnu in Kali Yuga

Names of Krishna used in this part:

*Dwarakadheesh – meaning 'King of Dwaraka'

Madhusudhana – meaning 'killer of the demon Madhu'

Dhamodhara – name referring to when he was tied with a chord (dama) around his waist (udara) as a child

Sudharshandhari – the wielder of the Sudharshana Chakra

Shyamasundara – meaning 'the black/dark skinned and beautiful one'

Madhanamohana – meaning 'the one who is the bewilderer of Cupid (madana)'

Achala – meaning 'baby'

Nandalal – meaning 'the son of Nanda'

A sudden jolt of the chariot, and the responsive tightening of an arm around her petite frame, brought Mitra out of her journey down memory lane – as her eyelids fluttered open – encouraging the small droplet of salty sorrow to slip past the kohl lined edges of the perfectly crafted organs of the visionary system.

"Nothing to worry, Priya. The wheels had hit a rocky slope a moment ago – hence the slight tousle," reassured a calm Krishna, with his arm protectively wound around his dear one. "And on perfect timing as well. The city of Dwaraka welcomes you with great pleasure, my Dear!"

Brushing away the tracks of the sole tear that had earlier travelled against her cheek, Mitra glanced ahead at the massive golden gates they were approaching, with awestruck eyes. With her unwavering chocolate brown orbs, Mitra immersed herself in the soul-liberating atmosphere of Mokshapuri, as their chariot passed through the now completely opened golden walls – intricately designed with carvings of conches and peacock feathers – two of the symbols of the blessed land and it's most revered king. Bordered by the rich waves of the Arabian sea, and the Raivataka mountain range – known as the 'living place of the Gods' – the city had truthfully earned its classification as one among the 'Sapta Puri' meaning the seven sacred cities of Hinduism for spiritual liberation.

Her awestruck gaze shifted to one of pleasant curiosity as they travelled over the figures of Dwaraka Dham's bustling citizens, who had gathered around on either sides of the trail leading towards the palace. To welcome back their most beloved King and shower him with their heartwarming love.

Children gathered around, crowding, as they attempted to race with the now slowly progressing vehicle; their innocent hearts desiring nothing more than to offer the uprooted blooms of various flowers clutched between their petite fingers. Miniature, yet unmatchable gifts of pure love in the eyes of the King of hearts, who eagerly collected each and every one of them without fail. A dazzling shine glazing his lotus eyes, as he return gifted each of his admirers with the touch of his rosebud lips against their temples, and the caress of his reddened palm against their radiant cheeks, yet to be touched by the inevitable process of aging.

"Who is this Princess, Kanha?" questioned a petite damsel, who appeared to be around the tender age of seven, as she curiously observed an adoringly bewildered Mitra, who now sported a cherished grin on her lovely features in response to being surrounded by a sea of joyful children.

"Nandini!"

The screech of the breathless voice caught the attention of all the gathered children and Mitra, along with the smiling Krishna, as they turned to see an elderly woman with a cane, limping towards the gathering. A frown marring her aged features as her accusing eyes pierced the young girl who had questioned Krishna, now cowering under the woman's intense gaze.

"Is this how I have raised you? You have proven today that I have pampered you till no ends! Does he appear to be some commoner to you? For the sake of the Lord, he is Dwarakadheesh – the King of this sacred land! How did you garner the audacity to address him by name?!"

"Grandmother, that was not-"

"Enough!" lashed out the elderly woman, her tone filled with sharpness, as her eyes glazed with unshed tears. With quivering hands folded before her, she turned towards her King. The leader of the land which was their home. Briefly forgetting in the moment of her crisp fear of possible breaching of laws, that he was the King of their hearts as well.

"I sincerely apologize on behalf of my Granddaughter's immaturity, Sire. She had lost her parents at birth itself and has only me to call family. Hence, I had pampered her till no ends to attempt to make up for the unbearable loss. But I did not dare even dream that as a result of my pampering she would go as far as addressing the great King himself without a touch of royal formality. I truly apologize-"

"Maatha, please," murmured Sri Krishna, as he grasped the wrinkled hands of the elderly woman between his reddened palms - unfolding them from their original gesture of respect offered before him. Feeling the intense gazes of both the woman and his dear Priya Sakhi on him, the latter filled with ardent curiosity as she waited to see how her Madhava would tackle the situation, Krishna smilingly addressed the former – whose eyes spilled rivers in response to the endeared addressment as 'Maatha' by the King of Dwaraka himself.

The Yadava Prince born to the Queen Devaki, and raised as the beloved cowherd boy of Vrindavan's Priya Yashodha Maiya. The most doted Nandalal who despite knowing he would be graciously offered as much of a share as he desired, still found immense pleasure in childishly tormenting the mothers of Gokul and Vrindavan – whom he sought his own mother in, as he cracked their butter-filled pots with stones. She had heard of his humblest nature, and view of all mothers as his mothers, turning a blind eye towards their social status, caste or religion. Yet, hearing and experiencing a blissful truth were two different entireties in their own, realized the frail woman, whose aged limbs trembled in response to the bliss she had been blessed to acquaint with in this very moment.

"Please do not mercilessly throw me to the hands of unforgivable sin by folding your palms, worthy of veneration, before me or uttering words of apologies, Maatha," he murmured with a ghost of a calming smile encroaching upon his rosebud lips, as his butter-soft fingers swiped away the endless stream of guilt and pleasurable pain running down the hollowed cheeks of the grandmother. "You are like my mother, and a mother shall never bow down before her child."

Here, via the dialogue spoken by the Lord of the three worlds, the story stresses the irreplaceable significance of a mother. The selfless soul by which each and every being of this universe is blessed to enter this vast plane of existence. Yet the bond not always destined to live and cherish for a lifetime.

The mighty Madhusudhana, who headfirst encountered and slayed countless demons, including the atrocious Madhu himself, without the slightest fraction of fear – had shed streams of tears as Baby Dhamodhara, when tied by a chord around his waist by Maatha Yashodha. For the Sudharshandhari who beheaded the heads and liberated the pitiable lives of endless cold-hearted demons, how difficult could it possibly have been to untie himself from a limp piece of rope having held him bound to a tree? Yet he did not. He remained bound as rivers of tears streamed down those moonlike cheeks, ripping apart the heart of the gentle-natured Yashomati Maiya, whose own soft orbs shed tears of remorse in response to the soul-wrenching cries of sweet lies uttered by her beloved Kanha: "Maiya, I did not steal the butter!"

And why so? The desire to be showered by endless motherly love and affection lays within the heart of the Almighty, who himself is the mother of all mothers. To have his dazzling face showered with kisses and lovingly fed generous helpings of butter, by the dainty hands of his Priya Yashodha Maiya once released from the binding, was thought to be worth the temporary denting of chord marks against the supple soft skin of his waist. If the Lord of the Universe himself is left unspared by this unquenchable thirst for selfless affection, then what becomes of us, my dear friends? Let us unconditionally love, respect and cherish the most treasured blessing provided to each and every one of us – our mothers. Despite being brought into this world by her, not all are fated to lay eyes upon her divine face or experience the selfless love that inhabits her entire being. Whether the bond be of blood or not, shall never truly matter, as beautifully explains to us the unmatchable relation of Mother Yashodha and her beloved Nandhan.

"I have heard unlimited praises of your sheer humbleness and pure love, my Lord," stuttered the woman as she touched her aged forehead to the bluish-black hue of the smooth-skinned knuckles of Shyamasundara. "But never did I once believe you would see a mother in this poor old woman. You have raised me to unimaginable heights with this gesture, my Lord and I will forever be indebted to you for this."

"Love is selfless, Maatha. Whether it be given or received. The ecstasy brought by pure love may never flourish in the heart that fears the failure of its reciprocation. In contrast, for the heart that shares love without the slightest expectation of it – along with that heart, many gifted hearts shall endlessly dance to the euphoric tunes of oneness. And that is where the true beauty of love lies – within its unconditionality," replied Krishna as he affectionately caressed the wrinkle lined cheeks of his elderly mother. "And please, do not chastise my dear Sakhi, Maatha. This Sakha cannot bear the harshness of words thrown at his dear little friend!"

Saying so, he shifted his gaze to that of the petite damsel who had been blessed with the realization to comprehend her ever-existent bond of truest friendship with her Lord at a tender age itself.

"Because Kanha and Nandini are friends forever!" chirped the young girl, giggling in response to the soft smile of her grandmother, who affectionately caressed the head of her sole reason for existence. "How long is forever, Kanha?"

"Indeed! And a forever you would never be able to imagine or measure, my dear Sakhi..." murmured Krishna, with a far off look in his shining orbs, and a hint of a knowing smile tugging the corners of his pink lips. Then just as quick as it had appeared, the haze lifted off the lotus eyes, as they winked in response to the now heartily giggling child before him.

"And you haven't answered my question, Kanha! Who is this, Princess? Or wait, is she a Queen?"

Krishna burst into ripples of laughter in response to the young daughter of Arjuna who played with her fingers – a visible sign of awkwardness overcoming a girl who still struggled to grasp the truth that she was a Princess of a well-known royal family of Aaryavarta.

"My name is Mitra, dear, and I come from Hastinapura," she replied with a shy smile lighting her face, in response to the affectionate grin sported by the young girl. "Daughter of Angaraj Karna and Prince Arjuna. And I by no means am a Queen!"

"Not today at least..."

Krishna purposefully avoided the confused, and slightly agitated gaze his Priya Sakhi threw at him – refraining from having to acknowledge the intent behind his sudden choice of words. 'Time will answer your internal questions, my dearest Mitra,' he thought as the knowing smile once again bloomed itself upon his features in response to being able to witness the events of the future.

"Welcome to Dwaraka, Princess Mitra!" exclaimed the sea of children, causing Mitra to chuckle with delight under the grinning vision of Dwarakadheesh.

"Just Mitra will do, my lovely friends!" she piped up with much felt affection, as the arm of Vasudev Krishna wrapped itself around her shoulders.

"Shall we get going?" he asked with a glint of mischievousness, as he observed the brief flash of nervousness flit by her orbs with the question. The prospect of finally grasping the opportunity to meet and offer her respects to the great scions, gods and goddesses of the Yadava clan, made her insides tingle with anticipation and anxiety – which as usual never flies by unnoticed by her Madhava. "I have a hunch that Rukmini must already be waiting at the palace entrance with the aarti tray to welcome her beloved Vijaya Nandhini."

On indication of her gentle nod, Madhava and his Priya Sakhi waved farewell to their sea of dear friends, as the chariot inched forward towards the heart of the city – the magnificently crafted palace of Dwaraka. The residence housing the gems of the Royal Yadava Dynasty.

The name 'Dwaraka', or 'Dwaravati', was undeniably the most apt name for the land, meaning the 'gated city' or 'city having several gates' thought Mitra as they once again passed through a pair of richly designed golden doors. Along with four main magnificent entry gates guarding the four sides of the land, once submerged below the Gulf of Cambay, there were multiple smaller ones, each leading one after another from the border of the city towards the main palace. The one they had just passed was slightly shorter in height to the initial gates near the entrance of the city. In contrast to those gates, these ones displayed intricate carvings of sudharshan chakras and Kanha's most treasured bansuri.

Mitra's eyes enlarged with awe as they observed the numerous structures that made up this next portion of the city. From elaborate marketplaces offering goods of all sorts and comfortably designed residences with hanging pots of unlimited makhan, to the numerous sacred temples housing countless demigods – the smiles on the faces of the citizens openly displayed their content with their 'home.'

As they passed through another golden gateway, holding carvings of lotuses and Kaumodaki maces, the Princess of Hastinapura's gaze at once became captivated by the uncontainable beauty of Mother nature. Open fields and parks stretched over the land, playing home to grazing deer and dancing peacocks; the iridescent blues blending amongst the Java and Burmese greens of the numerous feathers lining their tails, reflecting the late afternoon rays of Lord Surya as they swayed to the silent breeze carrying the remnants of Madhanamohana's venu gaan.

The clarity of the aqua blues of numerous ponds splayed between the parklands, offered a safe haven to families of swans; the white hues of their abundant feathers resembling fresh, untouched snowfall that roofed over the Himalayas. Groups of koels, Fire-tailed Myzornis and Himalayan Monals found temporary seating on the numerous indivara, ambhoja, kahlara, kumuda and utpala lotuses crowding the uninhabited portions of the bluish green waters.

The screeching chatter of a particular family of mammals pulled the young Princess's attention to the clusters of trees lining the opposing side of the trail their chariot was currently travelling on. Her curious gaze brightened, as did the grin on her lips, as they fell upon groups of Bonnet Macaques huddled together on various branches. Having tails longer than their heads and bodies put together, some hung upside down from branches, while others observed her intently, with curious beady black eyes, absentmindedly munching on ripened bananas.

'How innocently adorable they appear,' she thought with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't underestimate their capacity if I were you," grinned Krishna with that ever present mischievous glint flashing against the brown of his orbs.

"I wouldn't dare," chuckled Mitra as she dwelled joyously in witnessing the heartfelt laughter of Krishna. The species of mammals that had once worked day and night to enable the construction of the 'Rama Sethu,' meaning Rama's Bridge, allowing Lord Rama and his followers to cross over the Gulf of Mannar on their journey towards the land of Lanka. The specie of identity for the manifestation of Mahadev, the greatest Rama bhakta to have walked this very Earth – Lord Sri Hanuman – who had effortlessly set aflame the entire palace and land of King Ravana and his court members, who had underestimated the capacity of a 'monkey.' The greatest devotee of all, who had earned himself the rightful position as the epitome of 'bhakti' by eternally housing both Sri Rama and Maatha Sita within his heart.

"One more set of gates to pass through before we reach the palace, my dear," chuckled Krishna, in response to the longing ache he observed flicker by in the eyes of his loved one. Now completely replacing the initial tinges of anxiety and nervousness present earlier. And that was the beauty of Dwaraka Dham – one gaze upon it and its soulful inhabitants was enough to set the heart aflutter with a longing to never part from it for the rest of eternity.

And as the chariot wheeled in past the final golden blocks of doorway, Mitra's eyes sparkled with great enthusiasm, as they took in the magnificent structures of the 16,000 palaces of Dwarakadheesh's wives that claimed Vishwakarma's magical touch. Each designed to be of similar height and size, yet slightly unique in comparison to its neighbouring one, in terms of the species of gem used, to the intricately carved designs depicting royal heritages and major historical events of the past.

As their carriage spiraled along the trail, heading deeper amongst the countless palaces, towards the centre back, there came upon view one of the most breathtaking masterpieces of architecture any had ever laid eyes upon since time. With towers as golden as the sunray illuminated sands bordering the waves of the Arabian sea – giving it the name as 'Golden City' mentioned in the Mahabharata, Harivansha, Bhagavad Gita, Vishnu and Skanda Puarana. Housing arched doorways as white as the fluffy clouds on a clear summer morning. The embedded silvers and crystals, along with the stones of emerald used generously to decorate the outer walls of the castle, each dazzled with the rays of Lord Surya Narayana bouncing off them in the late afternoon prahar. The residence of Dwarakadheesh in which the great Vishwakarma put to work each and every ounce of his divine skill and talent to construct as per the vision of Sri Krishna, within the duration of a single day. The palace that had housed the blessed footsteps of Narada Muni as he had visited one of Krishna's most favourite wives – the 3rdamong the revered Ashtabharya – Bhudevi herself. The palace on Earth ruled by the one and only omnipresent Emperor of Goloka Vrindavana himself.

"What caused the delay, Brother? Are you both fine?" questioned an anxious Subhadra as she ran up to her elder brother's carriage, which had just moments ago pulled up before the palace steps.

"Nothing to worry, Bhadra," chuckled Krishna as he picked Mitra in his arms and settled her down before them, saving her the trouble of climbing down in her flowing lehenga. "I had intended to take the slightly longer route to the Palace, so that Mitra would be able to enjoy the scenery that lay beyond each and every gateway leading till home." 'Home.' The effulgence that the palace, and the hearts of its royal residents, emitted to each and every being that walked up these very steps, with the soul intention of finding unconditional acceptance and being loved.

"Ready to meet your maternal family, Priya?" questioned Krishna with glee dancing among each and every feature that highlighted the incomparable beauty of Shyamasundara, as Subhadra caressed her hair with pure affection.

"I've never been more ready," came the convinced reply of Subhadra's beloved daughter, putting a smile on the faces of both Madhava and his Sodhari.

With each and every step her lingering jutti-covered feet placed against the pure marble floored stairs, Mitra felt euphoria flood her entire being, as numerous hymns vibrated of their own accord within the deepest of her hearing, for her inner being as the sole audience.

The heart prostrates with veneration as the sole of the foot is placed upon the very first step leading towards the earthly residence of the one among the Trimurti, responsible for the cosmic function of maintenance.

'Om Narayanaya Vidmahe, Vasudevaya Dheemahi, Tanno Vishnu Prachodayat.'

Meaning: Om, Let me meditate on Lord Narayana, Oh, Lord Vasudeva, give me higher intellect, And let Lord Vishnu illuminate my mind.

As they reach the landing, Mitra's eyes fell upon the three highly respectable scions of the Yadava clan, who had fathered and mothered the revered sibling trio of Mahabharata – Sri Narayana, Sheshanaga and Devi Yogamaya.

Vasudeva, the son of the Yadava King Shurasena and King of Vrishnis himself. The elder brother of Raja Maatha Kunti and maternal uncle of the Pandavas. The one blessed to carry Achala over his head, within a basket, with the hood of the mighty Sheshanaga as shade while transferring him to the safe haven of Nanda and Yashodha in Gokul.

Queen Devaki, daughter of King Devak and wife of Vasudev, was the pure devotee of Lord Narayan who had been blessed to biologically mother Sri Krishna, the 8thchild of the couple destined to liberate her demonic elder brother Kamsa from his unbearable load of sinful deeds, with the gift of death.

Queen Rohini, the daughter of King Bahlika and the first consort of Vasudeva, played an important role in the upbringing and nurturing of the deity trio who have been worshipped together since time by followers of Gaudiya Vaishnavism in the temple of Jagannath. Having said to be the incarnation of Kadru, the mother of serpents, Rohini had given birth to Sri Balarama, who had been transferred from Devaki's womb to hers.

With deep veneration, Mitra bent down to seek the blessings of the ones whose feet were daily caressed by the hands of Narayana and Aadishesha in a sign of deepest devotion.

'Aum

Devkinandanaye Vidmahe

Vasudevaye Dhi-Mahi

Tan No Krishna Prachodayat'

"May your life be filled with the unlimited happiness and prosperity, Putri," blessed Vasudeva and Rohini.

With uncontainable affection Maatha Devaki and Maatha Rohini embraced the light birthed by Devi Vrushali, that had removed the darkness of a childless life which dared to encroach upon the life of their dearest daughter.

"May you live a long and happy life, dear," blessed Devaki, as she kissed the porcelain forehead of the Kuru Princess, while Rohini caressed her cheek with utmost affection.

Next she moved towards the elder son of Vasudeva along with his wife. He who was also addressed as 'Haladhara' and 'Halayudha' which depicts him as the deity who was closely associated with agriculture, and used a plough as a weapon when needed. Strongly believed to be the incarnation of Sheshanaga, the King of serpents on which Lord Vishnu reclines, the inseparable bond between him and Sri Narayana can be witnessed in the intimate brotherhood he shares with Sri Krishna as a constant companion from birth. Next to him, stood his consort Devi Revati, the daughter of King Kakudmi. On desiring to marry the mightiest of men in her previous birth as Jyotishmati, she had been granted the boon to marry Sheshanag himself in her next birth.

"Pranam Mamashree. Pranam Mamishree," murmured Mitra, as she bent down to touch the feet of the Yadava kula tilaka Balarama and Devi Revati.

"May you prosper with all the happiness and joy, Putri," they wished in unison with hearts abounding with love.

Mitra shut her eyes with joy as the only woman to have held the heart of Baladeva, cupped her moon-like cheeks between her delicate palms and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. A dazzling smile lit her features as Balarama pulled her into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss against the soft curls of her crown.

"We have heard all about you, my dear. And we've waited to meet you for so long. Thanks to Kanha, our wish has been fulfilled today."

Mitra closed her eyes as a gentle calmness washed over her, as if she were being rocked amidst the rolling waves of the Ksheer Sagara itself. The one who bore the weight of the worlds on his hood with mighty strength, and the reclining form of his Sri Hari and Maatha Lakshmi with selfless love - his embrace provided the perfect mixture of security and affection that warmed the heart of the beloved Princess.

"The light and hope of the Kuru dynasty...may God always guide you and ensure your life is forever filled with the glow of unmatchable joy," he whispered.

"My dearest Mitra..." called out a woman's voice. The call of her voice itself was a song, realized the Princess, who had never heard a voice as beautiful as the one that had just pronounced her name.

'Om Shree Mahalakshmyai Cha Vidraahe Vishnu Patrayai Cha Dheemahi Tanno Lakshmi Prachodayat Om'

Meaning : Let me meditate on the greatest Goddess, Who is the wife of Lord Vishnu, Give me higher intellect, And let the Goddess give me abundance and prosperity.

Mitra turned towards the Princess of Vidharba Kingdom; Dwarakeshwari – the chief consort of Vasudeva Krishna. His Krishnatmika; the one who held his heart through her humble and heartfelt devotion. The devoted wife who was able to surpass the weight of her husband on the scale, with a single Tulsi leaf infused with the prayers of her unconditional love and devotion – thereby providing the valuable lesson of bhakthi for generations to come, that heartfelt devotion in the form of even the most humblest offering surpasses any amount of material wealth in the eyes of the Almighty.

"Mamishree Rukmini!" exclaimed Mitra as she bent down to offer her obeisance to the lotus feet of the direct incarnation of Sridevi. The Material Prakriti form of Goddess Lakshmi representing the energy of the spiritual world, at whose feet lay the source of all forms of wealth and prosperity.

"Be blessed with all happiness and prosperity for eternity, my child," came the nectar sweet voice of Maharani Rukmini, as she laid an alta-dyed palm over the braided crown of the young Princess. Allowing the other one to caress her rosy-tinted cheek, the first wife of Krishna recalled the ever famous Rukmini Haran, as her doe like eyes traversed amongst the sharp features of Arjun Putri. "An ethereal beauty you are, my dear. Brihannala must have surely succumbed before it!" she chuckled, causing all gathered to laugh, while a blush covered the cheeks of Vijaya's youngest wife and daughter.

"Alright, alright, enough taunting my Sakha," came the smirking remark of Krishna's 3rdwife and 2ndmain consort among the Ashtabharya, worshipped along with Rukmini. The direct expansion of Bhudevi (Goddess of Earth). The Apara Prakriti form of Goddess Mahalakshmi, at whose feet lay the entirety of the world's elemental energy. The elegance with which Devi Satyabhama carried herself while striding over towards Rukmini spoke volumes of her Queenly confidence.

"No one was taunting your Sakha, Bhama," chuckled Rukmini as the latter gave her a knowing smile in response. The Sakha-Sakhi bond shared between Dhananjaya and Krishna's 3rdconsort was a lesser mentioned, but nonetheless a friendship as special as the one shared among the two Krishnaas.

As Mitra touched her feet in respect, Satyabhama grasped her shoulders gently, pulling the young one into her arms.

"Daughter of Arjuna," she chuckled. "I have high expectations for you, my dear. Sword fighting and an archery session with me tomorrow!"

As Rukmini and the remaining Ashtabharya shook their heads in mock exasperation, Mitra searched for Madhava from her current position, ensnared against the bosom of the most beautiful queen of Dwaraka. Her gaze falling upon his laughing profile, she silently pleaded with her adorable brown orbs, to have her freed from her sessions with the warrior queen of Sri Krishna, who had aided her husband in the slaying of the demon Narakasura. Yet failing to secure the support she required, with the raising of his shoulders and glint in his eyes - indicating his inability to save her from the only Queen of his who could match his wit.

Huffing in response to the turn of events, Mitra let herself sink into the warm embrace of Bhumidevi, now joined by her eternal sister, Sridevi. With the shining eyes of Krishna observing this combined affection with a warm smile; foreshadowing his incarnation as Sri Venkateshwara to be witnessed and revered by the world during the dark age of Kali. 

To Be Continued...

And that was Part XVI of Abhimanyu's Diary! Mitra has reached Dwaraka and the Abhimanyu's Diary series is nearing its closure. This chapter consisted of less dialogue and more explanations - my humble attempt at further beautifying the characters of the revered Scions of the Yadava family, along with witnessing the incomparable magic of Dwaraka Dham! 

I hope you all enjoyed it - please do comment your thoughts on it and let me know how you found it! And please do vote if you feel its worthy :)

Thank you once again for being so patient with me while I was going through exam preparations. It's been over a month since I posted the last chapter, and I hope this one was a good come back! I only wrapped up this chapter a few moments before posting it - so please bear with any errors.

Loads of love,

Geitha