Devashree's heart was set on mastering the 64 kalas, the revered art forms that were believed to encapsulate the essence of life and enlightenment. 

On the same day, in the evening hours, she approached her Gurumaa, known for her profound understanding of the kalas and their applications in daily life.

"Pranipat, Gurumaa. I am ready to delve deeper into the ocean of 64 kalas. How shall I navigate this journey?" She asked Sumukhi Devi, not knowing where to start.

Devi Sumukhi gave her a gentle smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Your quest for knowledge is like the sacred river that seeks the embrace of the ocean-it is both noble and daunting. The 64 kalas are not merely art forms, they are the threads that weave the fabric of our dharma, our way of life. Begin with the understanding that mastery comes not from conquering each art but from allowing them to shape your being."

"I understand, Gurumaa, yet, where do I start? What should I do first?" Asked Devashree, her voice a mixture of her emotions, curious and excited.

"Start with the art that speaks to your heart the loudest, for passion is the fuel of mastery. The kalas range from music, dance, and painting to the science of strategy, cooking, and even the mystic arts. Each one is a world in itself, offering lessons that transcend the apparent skills. Let your intuition guide you; your heart's calling is the universe whispering its secrets to you."

"Music has always stirred my soul, Gurumaa. The earliest memory I remember is that of the beautiful melody of a flute." Devashree confided in her teacher.

"Ah, music, the divine art that harmonizes the chaos of the cosmos. Begin there, Devashree."

"Yes, Gurumaa, I will learn the Veena first," Devashree said excitedly.

"No, no, learn the flute first," said Gurumaa. There was a strange kind of tilt to her tone as if she knew something very particular about the said art.

"Why not the Veena first, Gurumaa?"

"Learn the flute first; didn't you say it was the first thing you heard, and then the Veena, let your fingers dance upon its strings. As you master the art of music, you will find it easier to attune yourself to the rhythms of the other kalas."

"And what of the other arts, Gurumaa? How should I learn without losing my way?"

"Each kala you learn will light the path to the next. From music, you may find a bridge to dance, as rhythm is their common soul. From there, you might find curiosity leading you to paint, where color and form will teach you about perspective, detail, and expression."

"It seems like a journey without an end, Gurumaa. How will I know when I have achieved mastery?"

"True mastery, Devashree, is realizing that learning is an eternal journey. With each art form you master, you will discover deeper layers, not just within the kala, but within yourself. The day you see every aspect of life as a canvas for the application of your arts, you will have achieved true mastery."

"I am grateful for your guidance, Gurumaa. I step onto this path with humility and the hope that I may one day acquire the essence of the 64 kalas." Devashree said it with confidence and determination shining in her big lotus petals eyes.

"With dedication and patience, you will, Devashree  but remember, the journey of learning is like the flow of a river-constant, yet ever-changing."

As Devashree bowed and left her guru's presence, her heart was alight with determination and a newfound clarity.
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Krishna and Balram stumbled upon a gathering of villagers outside Nand Maharaj's abode. Their voices, laden with worry and distress, caught Krishna's attention. 

Curious and concerned, Krishna edged closer, his innate compassion drawing him towards the source of their distress

." ...and the cattle refuse to drink from the Yamuna, Nand Maharaj. Even the birds seem to avoid its waters. The river, our lifeline, has turned against us.

"I understand your concerns. We must approach this matter with caution and wisdom. Rest assured, we will find a solution to this calamity."Nand Maharaj assured them.

Krishna, overhearing the conversation, felt a stirring within his heart. The Yamuna, with its cool, nurturing waters, had always been a source of joy and sustenance for the villagers of Vrindavan. The thought of it being poisoned and its waters bringing death instead of life was unfathomable to him. 

As the gathering dispersed, Krishna approached a group of elders, his youthful face marked by a resolve far beyond his years.

"What happened, baba? Why do its waters bring death now?" Krishna asked the villagers, his eyes wide with concern.

One of the elders stepped forward. "Yashodanandan," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, "the Yamuna's waters have turned dark and murky. It is said that a great serpent, Kaliya, has taken residence in the river. His poison has tainted the waters, driving away our cattle and the birds. Many creatures that drink from the Yamuna now perish."

Krishna's eyes narrowed with determination. "How long has this been happening?"

Another elder spoke up, her voice trembling with fear. "It has been a few weeks, Nandlal. We have tried to keep the cattle away, but it is difficult. The river is our main source of water. We are at a loss for what to do."

The news struck a chord in Krishna's heart. Kaliya, the formidable serpent, had not only endangered the lives of the villagers but also defiled the purity of the Yamuna. A resolve took shape within him, a determination to confront this menace and restore the river to its former glory.

"Do not worry. I will deal with Kaliya. The Yamuna will once again be safe for all."Krishna said, there was a determinant spark in his eyes.

The villagers exchanged worried glances. His youthful enthusiasm, they feared, underestimated the danger posed by Kaliya.

"But Krishna, Kaliya is no ordinary serpent. His venom is deadly, and his power is immense. It is too dangerous."

Krishna, however, was undeterred. He knew that he was the only one who could face Kaliya and emerge victorious

"Fear not. Have faith. The Yamuna and Vrindavan will be protected."

With a reassuring smile, Krishna turned towards the Yamuna, his steps firm and purposeful.

As Krishna and Balram walked towards the banks of the Yamuna, their pace was measured, the early morning air crisp around them. 

The lush greenery of Vrindavan was awakening, painted in the soft hues of dawn. Birds chirped in the background, adding a serene soundtrack to their journey. Despite the beauty surrounding them, their conversation took a grave turn.

"Dau, have you noticed the change in the Yamuna's waters? They said that there's a darkness to it, a poison that's seeping into its essence, harming our cattle and the villagers."

Balram nodded solemnly. "Yes, Kanha. It is indeed Kaaliya, the serpent king. He's taken residence in the river, and his venom is what's poisoning the waters. The once clear and life-giving river now is bringing nothing but death and decay."

Krishna stopped walking, his gaze fixed on the flowing waters of the Yamuna, now a murky shadow of its former self. "This cannot continue. Kaaliya's actions are causing immense suffering. The people of Vrindavan, our animals, and the very land itself is in distress."

Balram placed a reassuring hand on Krishna's shoulder. "What do you propose we do, Kanha? Confronting Kaaliya will be dangerous. He's powerful, and his venom is deadly."

Krishna's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and determination. "We will confront him, dau. I cannot stand by while our home is threatened. I must protect Vrindavan and its people. I believe we can persuade Kaaliya to leave the Yamuna and find a new home, one where he can live without causing harm to others."

"If that is your wish, I will stand by you, Kanha. But we must be cautious."

As they resumed walking, their silhouettes grew smaller in the distance, heading towards a confrontation that would test their courage and resolve. 

 The fate of the river, the serpent king, and the land itself hung in the balance, with Krishna and Balram at the heart of the impending struggle.
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Devashree had just woken up. 

The onset of spring had brought a cool breeze with it. It was still dark outside as she made her way to the Pakshala. 

She saw Guruma Sumukhi handling all the water pots, preparing to go to the riverside to fill the water.

"Gurumaa, let me help you with those pots. Give me those pots, I will bring them from the nearby river."

"Alright, putri, here you go," she said, handing over all the pots to her." The nearest river is the Yamuna; you will find it on the eastern side, there is a narrow path through the woods, following the stream, and it eventually merges into the Yamana that will lead you to it."

"Ji gurumaa." Devashree nodded and speedily made her way towards the river. 

It took her a prahar to reach the riverside, it was almost morning when she arrived at the bank of the river. 

Devashree stood on the banks, taking a moment to admire the serene beauty of the Yamuna, with one hand holding the pot on her hips, and another hand holding the one over her head, she looked no less than a gopi.

The river's waters were crystal-clear and cooling.  But in the stillness of the air, there was a sense of foreboding that Devashree could sense, a premonition of impending doom that hung over everything like a dark cloud. It was a feeling that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness, refusing to be ignored or dismissed.

 Every sound was amplified, and every movement was scrutinized for signs of danger. The rustle of leaves in the wind became an ominous whisper, the creak of branches a sinister warning of what was to come.

There was a sense of unease, a feeling that something was not quite right as if the danger lurked just beyond the edge of perception. It was a primal instinct, a gut feeling that cannot be ignored warning from the depths of the subconscious that all is not well. 

It was eerily silent on the banks. Not a single soul was in sight.

Shrugging off her uneasiness, Devashree put a pot on the ground and entered the waters, she moved forward till the waters lapped her knees, bending down and filling her pot with the water.

Waves rose behind her, one divine presence acknowledging the divine presence of another. and before she could notice, a huge wave enveloped her from behind, pushing her to the river's center. 

Huge waves surrounded her as if forming a cocoon. Devashree, with the water-filled pot still in her hand, tried hard to stay grounded. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her skin prickled with goosebumps as the sense of danger intensified. She felt as if she were being watched, hunted by unseen eyes that saw everything and nothing all at once.

Then she saw it.

It was huge. 

She gasped as, through the waters of the Yamuna River, a huge, majestic serpent rose, his massive form cutting through the surface with graceful power, leaving ripples in his wake that danced in the sunlight.

His scales glistened with an iridescent sheen, reflecting the colors of the rainbow as they caught the light. Each scale was a marvel of intricate design, shimmering with hues of emerald green, deep sapphire blue, and burnished gold. They formed a protective armor that shielded him from harm, a testament to his strength and resilience.

His eyes, deep and ancient, were gleaming with a wisdom born of centuries spent beneath the waves. His jaws, lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth, seemed capable of crushing even the strongest of prey with ease. He was a creature of the wild, untamed and untamable, yet possessing a quiet grace that belied his savage nature.

Devashree stood frozen, in the middle of the river, strangely her feet still touching the bed beneath, weaponless, and her hands still holding the pot of water, wondering if she would be eaten in the next second.

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A/N Could not update yesterday kyuki shadiyon ka season chalra hai bhai log.

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