The late morning sun cast a warm glow upon the corridors of Ujjain palace. The Kurus, their hearts pounding with excitement, walked through the palace corridors. Dhritrashtra, his blindness no impediment to his keen senses, was guided by Sanjay, his loyal charioteer. Bhishma and Vidur walked alongside them, their faces reflecting a mixture of curiosity and reverence.

For generations, their ancestors had revered the goddess as the Queen of all Kings. It was their ancestor, Chakravarti Bharat, who had established her as the Akhand Maharani. 

The sword of the goddess's previous incarnation, Rameshwari, had been carefully preserved by the Kurus for thousands of years. It was a symbol of their unwavering devotion, a tangible connection to the divine.

And now, they were about to witness the new incarnation of that very goddess. The anticipation was almost overwhelming. This was not just a meeting; it was a pilgrimage, a chance to connect with the divine.
Their excitement was palpable, their eyes filled with a mixture of reverence and awe.

The Kurus finally reached the grand hall, their hearts pounding with anticipation. Hemant greeted them respectfully, "Suprabhat Kuru-shreshth."

The Kurus acknowledged his greeting with a smile and a nod. Hemant, his face beaming with pride, opened the door to the grand hall. The Kurus stepped inside, their eyes scanning the room with a mixture of anticipation and awe.

At the far end of the hall, they saw King Dilip and Queen Aarvi, seated on ornate thrones. In front of them, cradled in a golden bassinet, was the young princess, Krishneshwari. The baby was looking sideways at her parents, her eyes filled with a sense of wonder. Dilip and Aarvi smiled at her, their hearts overflowing with love.

As the Kurus entered the hall, Dilip and Aarvi stood up, their faces filled with pride. Dilip extended a warm welcome, his voice filled with sincerity, "Padhariye."

Krishneshwari, oblivious to the commotion around her, continued to gaze at her parents with curiosity. Her tiny hands reached out, as if trying to touch the world around her.

The Kurus approached the golden bassinet, their hearts filled with anticipation. As the princess turned her head to look at them, a wave of emotion washed over them. Bhishma and Vidur felt a sudden surge of bliss, a sense of peace and contentment that they had never experienced before. It was as if they were in the presence of something truly divine.

Bhishma and Vidur stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the young princess. A sense of awe and reverence washed over them, their hearts filled with a profound emotion that transcended words.

A smile crept onto their faces, a smile that was both gentle and knowing. They were witnessing something extraordinary, something that touched the very core of their being. And then, without realizing it, tears began to fall. They were tears of joy, of gratitude, of a connection to something greater than themselves. It was a moment of pure emotion, a moment that would forever be etched in their memories. It was a moment of Paramanand, eternal bliss.

Bhishma, overcome with emotion, knelt down before the bassinet. His heart pounded in his chest as he joined his hands in a gesture of reverence. Krishneshwari, lying peacefully in her cradle, seemed to be the very embodiment of the Akhand Maharani, seated on the throne. Her tiny form radiated a divine aura, her eyes sparkling with an otherworldly light.

Bhishma bowed his head, his forehead touching the edge of the bassinet. He was in the presence of something truly extraordinary, something that transcended the boundaries of human understanding.

Although Dhritrashtra couldn't see the princess, he could feel the air charged with a divine essence. It was a sensation that he had never experienced before, a tingling in his heart that told him he was in the presence of something truly special.

He held Sanjay's hand, his grip tightening slightly. The charioteer, his eyes fixed on the princess, was also speechless.

"Sanjay," Dhritrashtra asked, his voice filled with anticipation, "Mere liye Rajkumari ke roop aur tej ka varnan karo."

Sanjay remained silent for a moment, his mind racing. He tried to find the words to describe the divinity and innocence of the young princess. But no words seemed adequate.

"Maharaj mai.... Kaise batau aapko.... Mai kaise varnan karu... Sansaar mei maine aisi koi vastu nahi dekhi, jisse Rajkumari Krishneshwari ki Divya roop aur tej ki tulna ho sake." he finally admitted, "Yeh bhautik sansaar se pare hai."

Dhritrashtra's disappointment was palpable. His blindness, a constant companion throughout his life, seemed to weigh heavily on him at that moment. He knew that Sanjay was not exaggerating. The princess must truly be a sight to behold.

"Oh Mera durbhagya." A pang of regret washed over him.

Vidur, his voice filled with emotion, praised, "Durbhagya toh unn sabhi Rajkul ka hai, jaha inka janm nahi huya. Aisi mahatejasvini ke janm ki pratiksha yugo yugo se hoti aayi hai."

Vidur turned to Dilip, his eyes glistening with tears, and said, "Haiheya aur Haiheya-samrat dhanya hai."

Dilip joined his hands, his heart filled with gratitude. Aarvi watched the scene with a mixture of pride and wonder. She had seen the way the Kurus had reacted to her daughter, and she was overwhelmed by their reverence. It was as if Krishneshwari had a power that transcended words, a power that could move even the most hardened hearts.

It was then that she realized the potential of her daughter, the extraordinary destiny that awaited her. Krishneshwari was not meant to be sheltered from the world, like a caged bird. She was meant to soar, to shine, to make a difference

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A/N

Krishneshwari be like - Aakaash hai koi prem-kavi, mai uski likhi kavita. Mere jaisa koi nahi aya jag mei, yug beeta ✨