37. Dharma
As Devashree's chariot crossed the threshold into her kingdom, a wave of palpable excitement swept over the gathered crowd.
The air buzzed with anticipation, charged with the collective joy of her people, who had come from near and far to witness the return of their beloved.
As Devashree's chariot advanced, the crowd parted in reverence, a sea of faces turned towards her, each one alight with admiration and respect.
Devashree joined her hand and bowed down to her people, her connection to the land and its people, running as deep as the roots of the ancient oaks that stand sentinel over the kingdom.
She instructed the procession to halt at intervals, stepping down with an elegance
Her feet touched the ground, and immediately, the air thrummed with a new energy. The people soon swarmed closer, their faces alight with a mixture of reverence and joy.
Devashree moved among them, her presence a calming balm and a source of excitement all at once.
"Tell me, how fares your family?" she inquired of an elderly woman who had brought her granddaughter to see the procession. The woman, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude, spoke of the recent rains that had blessed their crops and the health that has, so far, been kind to her family. Devashree listened with genuine interest, her nod and smile were an assurance of her shared happiness in the woman's fortunes.
"How has the season treated your fields?" she asked, addressing a group of farmers who had lined the path, their hands roughened by the toil of the earth.
"Rajkumari, the rains have been generous, but the locusts threaten our harvest," replied an elder farmer, his voice laced with worry.
Her brow furrowed in concern. "We shall address this. I'll ensure assistance is dispatched to safeguard our crops. Our kingdom's strength lies in the health of its fields."
Moving on, a bright-eyed child, clutching a makeshift toy, catches her attention.
Kneeling to meet the child's gaze, she asked, "And what dreams do you chase with such fervor in your eyes?"
With a giggle, the child responded, "I wish to become a scholar, to read the many books in your grand library!"
Devashree's heart swelled with pride. "Then a scholar you shall become. Our kingdom thrives on the dreams of its youth. Let us ensure you have all the books you need."
"My dear people of Aryavarta, your joy fills my heart," she began, her voice carrying warmth and sincerity. "But tell me, how do you fare? What news from your homes and fields?"
"Your Highness, we are blessed with your concern. The season has been generous, our granaries are full, but the river threatens to flood its banks. We fear for our homes."
Nodding, her expression turned thoughtful, and she replied, "Fear not, for we shall strengthen our banks and secure our homes. No harm will come to you ."
Her assurance, firm and unwavering, brought a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, their faces lighting up with renewed hope.
"Princess, we hear tales of your travels, of lands far and wide. But it is your return that brings us the greatest joy."
Smiling gently at the woman and her child, Devashree responded, "It is to you, to this land of ours, that my heart always returns."
Moving through the crowd, Devashree listened attentively to the voices of her people-farmers speaking of their crops, artisans sharing tales of their craft, and children shyly presenting her with handpicked flowers.
As Devashree's chariot drew closer to the magnificent arches of the palace, the heart of Amravati and her cherished home, a sense of serene anticipation enveloped her.
The journey through the kingdom, engaging with her people, had filled her heart with a deep sense of purpose and belonging. Yet, the sight of her family, awaiting her arrival with open arms, ignited a different warmth.
Among the gathered family, her grandfather stood at the forefront.
Approaching her grandfather, she bowed deeply, her forehead nearly touching the ground.
With a tender smile, he extended his arms, enveloping her in an embrace "Blessings upon you, my child. Your journey has been long, and the people rejoice at your return. The wisdom and compassion you've shown to your people today... they are the marks of a true leader."
"It is from you, Pitamah, that I've learned the true essence of leadership-not as a mantle of power, but as a commitment to serve and protect.I missed you so much."
Releasing her from the embrace, he placed his hands upon her head in a traditional blessing. "May the gods grant you the strength to uphold dharma, the courage to face adversity, and the wisdom to lead to prosperity. "
Devashree turned towards her father, Maharaj Devendra, who had been watching the exchange with a look of profound affection and pride. As she approached, her father's face broke into a wide, joyous smile, the kind that had always made Devashree feel cherished and safe, no matter the burdens she carried.
"Pitashree," she began,
Without a word, Maharaj Devendra stepped forward, his arms wide open and swept her off the ground in a strong, enveloping hug, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet.
"My Deva, every time you I see you, you bring with you a new light, a new strength. Today, you have brought back not just the love of your people but their trust and hope as well."
"It is you who taught me to find strength in compassion, to lead with heart as well as mind. These people give me purpose, Pitashree. Their trust is the greatest honor I could wish for."
Leaving her father's side, Devashree then turned her attention towards her mother, the queen,Maharani Madhulika who had been watching the exchanges with a tender smile, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears of happiness. As Devashree approached, her mother's arms opened wide.
"Maa," she said softly.
Without hesitation, she enveloped Devashree in her arms, pulling her close. Then, in a flurry of affection she began to pepper Devashree's face with kisses-on her forehead, her cheeks, and the crown of her head.
"My precious darling, look at you-so grown, so radiant. This kingdom blooms under your touch, and so does the heart of your mother."
Laughing softly, her cheeks flushed with affection and the barrage of kisses, Devashree hugged her mother tightly. "I have missed this, Ranimaa. It's good to be home."
Finally pausing, she held Devashree at arm's length, her hands cupping her daughter's face as if to memorize every detail. "Every time one of my children leave, you take a piece of my heart with you. And every return of yours brings it back, fuller and more joyful. Finally I have all three of my jewels at one place."
Devashree's gaze fell upon her elder brother, Dharmendra, who had been watching the family reunion with a mixture of affection and amusement. As their eyes met, a mischievous glint appeared in his.
Without a word, he wrapped Devashree in a robust embrace. As they pulled apart, Dharmendra leaned in, his voice low enough that only Devashree could hear.
"So, little sister," he teased, a grin spreading across his face, "I hear tales of a certain prince charming the hearts of many, yet it seems he's particularly smitten with our jewel.Care to tell me more?"
Devashree playfully elbowed her brother in the side. "Bhratashree, you know well the stories of our travels are not just mine to tell. Besides, since when did you become so interested in tales of my heart? And don't dare blabber. You don't want me to spill your secrets now, do you?"
Laughing, he shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "A brother must be informed, especially when it concerns his sister's suitors. But fear not, I shall pry no more. For now."
Rolling her eyes, yet unable to suppress a smile, Devashree replied, "Worry not, brother. The day there's a tale to tell, you will be among the first to know."
Pratap, the youngest of the siblings, who had been watching the exchanges with barely contained impatience and excitement, could hold back no longer. His time at the gurukul had recently come to an end, marking the beginning of his journey into adulthood and the responsibilities that came with it. Yet, in this moment, he was simply the younger brother, eager to reunite with his beloved sister.
With a shout of "Jiji!" he sprinted towards her, his arms open wide. The impact of his embrace was filled with the entirety of his affection and the months of separation, lifting Devashree slightly off her feet with his enthusiasm.
Laughing heartily, she returned the embrace with equal fervor, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Pratap! Look at you, all grown and fresh from the gurukul. I trust you've been keeping everyone on their toes?"
"Of course! But it wasn't the same without you. Tell me, did you bring back stories? Have you fought more demons, or perhaps enchanted a few more hearts along the way?"
"There are stories aplenty, Pratap, tales of lands beyond our borders, of people with spirits as fierce as the tigers of our jungles. And as for demons," she leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "let's just say they're wise to tread lightly when we own are on their trail."
His eyes widened with wonder and a hint of mischief. "You must teach me everything! I've learned much at the gurukul, but there's no teacher-like experience."
"Enough now Pratap, you can all talk later, at least let her enter first." Maharani Madhulika cut in.
With hands that trembled slightly with emotion, she lit the lamp on the aarti thali, the flames flickering in the gentle evening breeze, casting a warm glow on her face. "Welcome home, my child," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Completing the aarti, she placed a dot of vermillion on Devashree's forehead and allowed Devashree to step through the ornate archways of her home
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At the gates of Mathura stood imposing before Krishna and Balarama.
The city of Mathura, bustling and vibrant, was under the shadow of a tyrant, and the brothers were determined to bring about a change that would resonate through the ages.
"Mathura," Krishna mused aloud, "a city of immense potential, now stifled under the yoke of tyranny. The time has come for liberation, for the people to breathe the air of freedom once more."
"Indeed, anuj," Balram replied, his voice steady and resolute. "Mathura will soon see a new dawn."
As they made their way through the city's streets, the people of Mathura cast curious glances at the brothers, sensing something extraordinary about them yet unaware of the prophecy that was about to unfold.
"See how they carry themselves, with such confidence and serenity. Are they not mere visitors to our city?"
"Perhaps," the neighbor replied, equally intrigued. "But there's something about the younger one... a light around him, as if destiny itself walks by his side."
Unperturbed by the whispers and gazes, Krishna and Balarama continued, their purpose clear and their spirits undaunted. They knew the challenges that awaited them in Mathura, but they also knew that their actions would pave the way for a future bright with hope and justice.
Soon the time had come.
Sneering, Kamsa leaned towards Devaki and Vasudeva, who were bound in chains beside him. "Look,the sons of Vasudeva come to entertain us with their bravado. Today, we shall see the end of the prophecy" he proclaimed, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Kamsa, your tyranny blinds you. These chains you've placed upon us, the fear you've sown among the people... none of it can alter the course of destiny. Our sons stand not just for us, but for the dharma you've forsaken." Vasudev replied.
In the arena, Krishna and Balarama faced their opponents, towering figures renowned for their brute strength and merciless tactics. Yet, the brothers' confidence was unshaken, their resolve firm.
Then the match began, a test of skill, strength, and spirit.
The crowd watched in awe as the brothers, with a combination of skill, strategy, and inherent power, overcame the wrestlers.It was not merely a victory of strength but a declaration of the triumph of good over evil, of light over darkness.
Watching the defeat of his champions, Kamsa's face contorted with rage and fear. The prophecy he had sought to evade was unfolding before his eyes, his own actions having set it into motion.
"Our sons... they are the heralds of justice. Mathura's suffering ends today." Devaki whispered.
"You may have bested my champions today, Krishna, but do not think your loved ones beyond my reach. That girl Devashree, who dared to defy me by protecting Radha, will meet her end by my hand!" Kamsa shouted
The arena fell into a stunned silence.
The people of Mathura, who had just begun to taste the sweetness of impending freedom, felt a chill of fear at the king's cruel declaration.
"Mamashree, in your folly, you have sealed your fate. Threaten me all you will, but when you bring harm to those I love, you awaken a force beyond your comprehension."
Kamsa leaned forward, his voice dripping with malice. "Yes, Krishna, your precious Devashree. I've watched her, seen the way she moves with grace, and seen the way she defied me that day. What a fitting prize she would be, don't you think? A pawn for myself, don't you think?"
The crowd gasped, a collective shudder running through the citizens of Mathura at the raw, unveiled wickedness in their king's words.
The calm that had so defined Krishna, shattered like glass under the force of his burgeoning wrath and the air around him crackled, charged with fury.
"Kamsa!" Krishna's voice boomed "Your reign of terror, your path of adharma ends now. You dare to defile the pure with your malevolent desires, but I swear by the holy lands of Mathura, by the sacred rivers that nurture our soil, your darkness will engulf you."
"Kanha, let us end this. The darkness has thrived in the shadows for too long. It's time for the light."
As Kamsa descended from his royal dais Krishna stood ready, the embodiment of calm resolve.
"I will crush you, boy, and end the threat you pose to my rule!" Kamsa bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls, as he charged toward Krishna with all the force of his tyranny behind him.
As the tyrant neared, Krishna sidestepped with divine agility, allowing Kamsa's momentum to carry him forward. "Your rule ends, Mamashree. Mathura will be free," Krishna declared, his voice a calm counterpoint to Kamsa's rage.
The battle that ensued was unlike any the people of Mathura had ever witnessed.
Kamsa, fueled by desperation and wickedness, launched attack after attack, each blow meant to kill. Yet, Krishna, moving with the grace and precision, evaded and countered each assault with effortless poise.
As the duel progressed, it became evident that Kamsa, for all his might and malice, was no match for Krishna. With each failed strike, Kamsa's desperation grew, while Krishna remained the unmoved center of the storm.
In the final moments of the battle, Krishna seized an opening, a lapse in Kamsa's defense brought about by his blind rage.
With a swift, decisive movement, Krishna advanced upon Kamsa, who now stood defenseless and exposed as the tyrant he was. .
The final blow was not just a physical defeat for Kamsa but a symbolic end to tyranny, oppression, and adharma.
The people of Mathura, witnessing the dawn of their liberation, erupted into cheers and cries of joy, their voices weaving a tapestry of gratitude and reverence for Krishna.
Devaki and Vasudeva, who had been forced to endure the agony of separation from their children from the moment of their birth, stood with bated breath, their chains removed, their spirits no longer bound by the fear that had overshadowed their lives. Their eyes, filled with tears of hope and disbelief, fixed upon Krishna and Balarama, who approached them with steps that bridged the chasm of years and sorrow.
Her voice trembling with emotion, Devaki reached out, her hands trembling. "My sons...my children," she whispered, her eyes scanning their faces, seeking the infants she had last held, now standing before her as the saviors of Mathura.
"Krishna... Balarama..."Vasudev uttered their names like a sacred mantra.
The brothers kneeled before Devaki and Vasudeva, their heads bowed in respect and love. The moment their foreheads touched the feet of their parents, a cascade of emotions broke free.
Devki held her sons close, as if to assure herself that they were truly there, that the divine prophecy that had taken them from her arms had also led them back to her. "My sons, my heart," she sobbed. "I feared... I feared I would never see this day..."
Her husband stood beside her, his hand resting gently on her shoulder, his own eyes glistening with emotion."Krishna, Balarama... our children. The pain of your absence shadowed every moment, but you have returned, not just as our sons, but as the heroes of Mathura."
As Krishna looked into the eyes of his parents, the depth of their love and the pain of their sacrifice etched into his heart Kneeling before them, he took their hands in his.
"Matashree,Pitashree" he began, his voice a soothing balm. "The bond that ties us, shaped by love, tempered in the fires of separation, is unbreakable. I was born your son, and though destiny demanded much from us all, it is to you that I return, to us. I assure you, from this day forth, I shall never leave you. Wherever my duties may take me, whatever battles I may face, my heart will always be with you, in Mathura, in our home."
As the family embraced, their tears mingling, their hearts beating in unison, the people of Mathura witnessed not just the reunion of a family but the embodiment of divine love, of dharma restored
In that moment, the trials of the past were transformed into the promise of a bright future, where Krishna and Balarama, alongside their parents, would lead Mathura towards an era of peace and righteousness.
In the midst of the gathered citizens of Mathura, amidst the ruins of tyranny and the palpable relief of liberation, Krishna spoke, his voice resonating with authority and grace.
"People of Mathura, today marks the dawn of a new chapter in the history of our great kingdom. The tyranny of Kamsa has ended, but true victory lies in the restoration of a just and noble rule."
His gaze then settled on Ugrasena, his grandfather, who had been unjustly dethroned and imprisoned by Kamsa. With respect and a deep sense of duty, Krishna addressed him.
"It is dharma that guides us, the eternal order that sustains the cosmos. And it is dharma that has been restored today. King Ugrasena, Pitamah, you are the rightful ruler of Mathura, a king beloved by his people, wise and just. I therefore ask you, before the people of Mathura, to ascend the throne once more and lead us into an era of peace and prosperity."
The assembly erupted into cheers and applause at Krishna's proclamation. The respect and love they held for Ugrasena, suppressed during Kamsa's reign, now found voice in their unanimous support.
"Krishna, my grandson, your wisdom shines as brightly as your valor. If it is the will of the people and the dictate of dharma, I shall serve as your king, with justice and benevolence as my guides. May Mathura flourish under our collective care."
As Ugrasena took his place on the throne, the cheers of the people echoed through the halls of the palace.
Mathura breathed free.
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A/N
A long chapter. Tell me, do you want a skip? Honestly the events of Mahabharat cannot start till a certain someone gets together. So do tell your thoughts.❤️❤️
Also if you enjoyed it do consider voting because it helps other readers to discover this story.❤️✨
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