Rewinding a bit....through Krishna's eyes)

Krishna held Devashree's delicate necklace in his hands and smiled gently as she turned her back to him, lifting her hair so he could fasten it around her neck. 

Once the clasp was secure, she looked up at him in the mirror and he couldn't resist leaning down to place a soft kiss at the nape of her neck. He felt a shiver run through her.

"How does it look?" she asked. Her gaze slid downwards to the floor in shyness, and he marveled at the color that adorned her cheeks even after so many years of their marriage.

It was a sight that never ceased to enchant him. 

Technically, it was just one lifetime in this incarnation, but only they knew the truth. And yet, she still blushed like a newly wedded bride before him.

 The years and the many lifetimes had done nothing to diminish the purity of her love for him, and he found himself endlessly enchanted by this enduring bond. Each moment with her felt as fresh and vibrant as their first. An eternal dance of love that never grew old.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Beautiful, just like you."

Devashree's blush deepened further, and she bit her lip, still unable to meet his gaze. 

The sight of her shy smile, it was so genuine and unguarded that it sent a fresh wave of desire surging through him. His hands began to move slowly, tracing gentle patterns up and down her arms, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath his touch.

"Is my tigress blushing?" he teased.

Devashree's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her lips curving into a shy smile as she leaned into his touch. He looked in amusement. Despite her fierce spirit and the strength she had shown throughout their countless lifetimes together, she still had this tender, vulnerable side that she reserved only for him.

"Where is that fierce and bold tigress who's always ready to claw my eyes out?" Krishna teased.

Her smile widened slightly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "Oh, she's still here," she replied softly. "But sometimes, she likes to take a break and let someone else take the lead."

Krishna chuckled. He leaned in, brushing his lips against her cheek. "Well, I must say, I quite enjoy seeing this side of you."

"That is reserved only for you, Swami...only you." she whispered, her voice hushed but laden with intent.

Before he could respond, Devashree closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both sudden and intense.

His eyes widened momentarily in surprise, but he quickly responded, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her closer. 

He could feel her responding, her hands coming up to cradle his face, pulling him closer. The world outside could wait; in that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection between them.

"That's my tigress right there." Krishna murmured in between kisses.

Devashree responded as she poured all her unspoken feelings into the kiss, savoring the taste of Krishna's lips and the warmth of his touch. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, as if trying to fuse their very beings together.

Krishna's hands roamed over her back, his touch both gentle and possessive. His lips parted slightly, allowing their kiss to deepen further, and he responded with a fervent urgency that matched her own. The world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them lost in the sensation of their shared passion.

When they finally pulled apart they were both breathless and slightly disheveled. Their hair was tousled, and their faces flushed with the lingering heat of their embrace. 

She gazed at him through lowered lashes then cupped his cheeks gently and leaned closer, placing a tender kiss in the crook of his eye and nose.

She always did that. Kissing him in the crook of his eye and nose. It was adorable.

Then with a delicate smile, she picked up the abandoned crown from the floor and placed it carefully on his head,her fingers lingered momentarily on his brow.

"Such care for me," he murmured softly. "But now, let me care for you."

Without a word, he turned and picked up a small, ornate vial of oil from the nearby table and he poured it into his palm, the rich scent of sandalwood and jasmine filling the room.

He turned back to her, his expression softening as he looked at her swollen belly. 

"May I?" Krishna asked gently,his hand hovering over her belly.

Devashree nodded, her gaze never leaving his. She lifted the hem of her cloth slightly, exposing the gentle curve of her belly. 

He knelt before her and rubbed his hands together, warming the oil before he placed them on her belly with the utmost care. The oil spread smoothly under his touch, and he began to massage it into her skin with slow, circular motions.

Devashree sighed softly, her body relaxing as his hands moved with practiced ease. The warmth of the oil seeped into her skin, and she leaned back slightly, allowing him better access. The sensation of his strong, yet gentle hands on her belly was soothing, and she found herself melting into his touch.

"Does it feel good?" Krishna asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

"Yes, Swami," Devashree whispered. "It feels wonderful."

He pressed another kiss to her belly before pressing his ear to it.

At first, there was only silence.

But then—he heard it. 

A tiny, rhythmic thump. The heartbeat of their unborn child.

The sound was so small, so delicate, yet it was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard. This had been their routine now, everyday since he had heart the sound for the first time two months before. He had heard it so many times now but he would never get tired of it.

"You looked worried about something last night," Devashree said softly, interrupting his train of thoughts.

Krishna felt his heart tighten. His concern must have shown more than he intended last night.  He hadn't realized that his thoughts had been so transparent. The marriage proposal had been weighing on his mind, but he had hoped to shield her from it.

He smiled gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Not worried," he reassured her, trying to keep his tone light. "Just thinking about something."

She didn't look entirely convinced. She turned in his arms, her hands coming to rest on his chest as she searched his face. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a whisper now, laced with concern.

"I'm sure," he replied softly, pulling her closer. "It's nothing you should be worried about."

And there wasn't. He didn't want her to be worried about irrelevant things. 

"I have some delegations to attend to," he said softly as he reluctantly released her, his fingers trailing along her arm as he stepped back.

She nodded, her eyes still holding a trace of concern, but she trusted him enough to let it go. 

As he turned to leave, he stole one last glance at her, imprinting the image of her sitting by the mirror, bathed in the soft morning light, in his mind.

He approached the chamber where Maharaj Vikram awaited him. He was seated on the divan and he rose to greet Krishna.

"Rajan," Krishna greeted, inclining his head slightly as he approached.

"Shri Vasudev Krishna," Maharaj Vikram replied, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I trust you had a restful sleep and have given thought to the proposal we discussed."

"Indeed, Rajan," Krishna replied, his tone even and respectful. "I have considered the matter with the care it deserves."

Tamasvi tried to conceal herself further behind the pillar but couldn't hide from his gaze. Krishna looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"So what did you think? My daughter, Rajkumari Tamasvi, wishes to join your family. She admires you greatly and believes she can be a worthy companion. Do you accept the proposal?"

He could sense her anxiety, the hope and fear mingling in her heart as she awaited his response.

"Maharaj Vikram," Krishna began, his tone respectful yet firm, "I am honored by your proposal and hold your family in high regard. However, I must decline. I am already committed, and my heart belongs to my wife, Devashree."

Tamasvi's heart sank, her anticipation turning to disbelief. She could hardly believe her ears. How could he reject her so easily?

"Shri Krishna," Maharaj Vikram began again, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and desperation, "I understand your devotion to your wife, and I commend it. But my daughter, is deeply devoted to you. She has admired you from afar, and she believes she could be a worthy companion by your side. Surely, you can consider—"

Krishna raised his hand gently stopping the king from continuing. "Maharaj Vikram," he said softly, "I understand your position and the love you have for your daughter. Rajkumari Tamasvi is a person of great virtue, and I am honored by the regard she holds for me. However, my heart and soul are bound to Devashree. The promises I have made to her are sacred, and I cannot, in good conscience, accept another into my life in this way."

Tamasvi felt her heart plummet. This was not how things were supposed to go. She silently prayed that her father would push harder, that he wouldn't give up so easily. Her hope clung desperately to the possibility that somehow, someway, Krishna might change his mind.

But the next words broke her heart. 

"I understand, Shri Krishna. Your loyalty and commitment are admirable traits, ones that I respect greatly. It is not easy to decline such an offer, and I can see that your heart is true to your word."

Krishna inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his gaze briefly flicking towards the pillar. He could feel her anguish, but he knew that honesty was the only path forward.

"I thank you for your understanding, Maharaj," Krishna replied. "It is never easy to navigate matters of the heart, but I believe in being truthful to all involved. Rajkumari Tamasvi is deserving of someone who can wholly commit to her, and I cannot offer that while my heart is already pledged."

He could hear her heart shatter at those words. She had never felt so rejected, so utterly dismissed. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back, unwilling to let herself break down in front of her father and Krishna. But inside, she felt like she was crumbling, her dreams slipping away like sand through her fingers.Tamasvi's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. This was not the outcome she had anticipated.

Maharaj Vikram also glanced briefly toward the pillar, aware of his daughter's presence even though she remained hidden. His heart ached for her, but he also knew the importance of Krishna's words. To push further might strain the bonds of respect and friendship they had long shared. Besides he cannot dare to offend Dwarka and the great empire of Kripalakshaya by pushing this matter further.. 

"Before we part ways, Maharaj Vikram," Krishna said, "I would like to discuss the potential for trade relations between our realms. There is much we could achieve together, and I believe it would be beneficial for both our lands. We can discuss trade alliance even if it could not be achieved through marriage."

Maharaj Vikram nodded in interest. "I am open to discussing trade, Shri Krishna. Our regions have always had a history of prosperous exchange, and it would be wise to build on that."

Krishna's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Excellent. We have been developing new trade routes and resources that could greatly benefit your kingdom. We can offer high-quality textiles, spices, and unique artifacts from our land."

 "And what might you seek in return?"

Krishna responded with a smile. "We are interested in your region's famed minerals and agricultural products. Your land is known for its fertile soil and rich resources. A trade agreement could bring prosperity to both our kingdoms."

"I see. Your terms are fair and promising. Our artisans and farmers could certainly benefit from a new market. That seems reasonable. Let us set up a committee to finalize the details and draft the agreement."

Krishna joined his hands. "Agreed. I will have my representatives work with yours to ensure a smooth and beneficial arrangement for both parties."

After the discussion, Krishna turned to leave and return. He was glad that he could establish a trade relation with Maharaj Vikram. After all it was what the king had actually wanted with the disguise of the marriage in return. 

While he was in the room behind the throne looking over the drafts of taxes when a voice stopped him from behind. 

"Shri Krishna, may I come in..... please..." 

Krishna turned from the drafts he was reviewing, his attention drawn to the soft, hesitant voice behind him.

He looked up to see Rajkumari Tamasvi standing at the entrance, dressed in an extravagantly adorned sari.

He smiled at her. "You may, please be seated Rajkumari. What can I do for you?"

Tamasvi hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, her gaze dropping briefly to the floor as she gathered her thoughts. She slowly took some steps and moved closer to him. 

"Shri Krishna," she began, "I don't understand. Why did you reject the marriage proposal? Most would jump at the chance to be with me."

Because I have no command over my heart for it is not with me....

He did not say that to her. It would be a little cruel for someone so young. 

So instead he tilted his head slightly and looked back at her. "Rajkumari, allow me to ask you a question in return. Why did you want to marry me?"

Tamasvi blinked, slightly taken aback by the question, but quickly composed herself. "I have admired you greatly, Shri Krishna. From the moment I saw you at the battle of Prabhasa by the sea, I was captivated by your valor, your strength. You are the prince of a great kingdom, and your influence stretches far and wide. Who wouldn't want to be your companion, to stand by your side?" 

Krishna listened patiently. "I see," he said after a moment. "But tell me, Rajkumari, I am already married. Does that not trouble you?"

"It does not matter. Devashree may be your wife, but I can be a better companion for you. She... she clings to you, demanding your attention constantly. You deserve someone who can match your strength, who can be your equal, not someone who relies on you so heavily. Besides I can be even better than her Dwarikadhish."

Krishna's eyes darkened but his voice remained gentle as he shook his head. She was insulting Devashree  and he could never endure that. She needed to listen to some hard truths. And maybe learn something about love on the way....

"What you feel for me is not love Rajkumari because love is not a competition. Comparing yourself to someone else, especially in matters of the heart, is a dangerous path. If the basis of your love is comparison, then it is not true love."

Tamasvi's eyes flashed desperation. "But I can grow to love you, Shri Krishna," she insisted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can prove my worth, show you that I am the one who can stand by your side as someone who can match your strength and your spirit."

"But that is the thing Rajkumari. You shouldn't have to prove anything.  Love, when it is true, requires no validation or competition. It is something that flows naturally between two souls, without the need for justification or comparison. You should never feel that you must change or compare yourself to another to be loved."

"But I want to be with you, Shri Krishna. I want to be the one who stands by your side, who shares in your greatness." she whispered.

Krishna smiled softly. "I understand your feelings, Rajkumari, and I am deeply honored by them. But what you seek is not love—it is admiration, perhaps even infatuation."

"How can you say that Shri Krishna. Tell me, it is wrong of me to want to marry you after I saw you like that, brave and charming? Is it wrong of me to want to marry a man like yourself?

"It is not wrong, Rajkumari," Krishna replied softly, "to admire someone for their bravery, charm, or any other qualities that draw you to them. These are natural feelings, and there is nothing wrong with wanting to be with someone who possesses qualities you admire. What is wrong is the fact that by marrying you I will be breaking my vows to my wife. I cannot in my good conscience do something like that."

"Of course you can!! You are so great Shri Krishna and men like you can take more than one wife. You deserve it. You deserve so much better. "

Krishna blinked. Was she deliberately telling him to be unfaithful to his Shree? To be disloyal to her?

He felt a flicker of anger spark inside him.

"Then you should know that I am not like those men. I respect my wife and faithful to her. My commitment to Devashree is not something I take lightly. It is a sacred bond that goes beyond any earthly considerations."

His gaze hardened. His patience was wearing thin. He was trying to make her understand love but she did not want to learn. 

"You deserve a love that is personal, that sees you for who you are, not for what you can be to someone else. Your heart will find the one who is meant to cherish you for all that you are."

"Exactly, Shri Krishna. You deserve the same. Do you know that your beloved wife," she spat    "..is involved with another."

Krishna blinked. What did she just say?

"What?"

"Yes!"

"And how did you reach that conclusion?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, a warning.

"Today at the function she was being very intimate with a woman. I am now sure it was a man in disguise."

In any other situation, he might have laughed. But this was different.  She was attacking the very essence of his bond with Devashree, trying to drive a wedge between them with lies and deceit with baseless accusations.

His anger flared. The thought that the Rajkumari would stoop so low to manipulate him filled him with a cold fury. 

He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous, "You dare accuse my wife of infidelity? You dare insult her honor to my face?"

"I only wanted to—"

"To what?" Krishna cut her off. "To slander my wife in the hopes of winning my favor? To poison my heart against the woman who is my very soul?"

Tamasvi took a step back, fear creeping into her eyes as she realized the depth of Krishna's anger. "I am not lying!! I saw it with my own eyes."

"That's because it was me. It was me disguised as a woman and Devashree recognised me."

Her face went pale as Krishna's words sank in.

"You...?" she stammered, disbelief and fear mingling in her voice. "But..."

"Yes, Rajkumari," Krishna's voice was cold, each word laced with controlled fury. "It was I, in disguise. Your baseless accusations are not only an insult to her but also to me. You say you admire me, but at the same time you do not respect me."

"I do!! I respect you Dwarikadhish!"

"Is that why you are giving no consideration as to what I feel? About my feelings? About my wife?"

"No!! I am just saying that Devashree may be your wife," Tamasvi began, her voice laced with bitterness, "but she is weak. She clings to you, relying on your strength to carry her through everything. A woman like her is a burden, not a partner. You deserve more, Shri Krishna. You deserve someone who can stand by your side as an equal, not someone who hides behind you."

She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to rest on Krishna's shoulder, her eyes searching his face for any sign of agreement. "Think about it. You need someone who can match your power, who can understand the weight of the responsibilities you bear. Devashree is beautiful, a pretty face I agree. But don't you think that she is a delicate flower that will wither without your constant care. I could be so much more for you, Krishna. I could be the queen you deserve, strong and capable, a true partner in every sense."

His eyes flickered with a storm of restrained anger. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he listened to her denigrate his Swamini. Each word was cutting deeper into his patience.

"Rajkumari," Krishna interrupted, his voice now laced with a stern edge, "you have spoken enough." 

But Tamasvi, pressed on, her hand still on his shoulder. "No, Shri Krishna, you need to hear this. You need to realize that you could have so much more than what you have now. Devashree is holding you back. You need someone who can elevate you, who can match your greatness. I am that person, Shri Krishna.She will get too busy for you now. But I,..... I can be the queen you need, the one who truly deserves to stand by your side."

"I said enough," Krishna growled lowly, his anger barely contained.

"Devashree doesn't deserve you, Shri Krishna!"

Krishna's patience snapped.

With a sudden, sharp movement, he jerked her hand away from his shoulder, causing her to lose her balance. Tamasvi let out a startled squeak as she stumbled backward, her foot catching on the hem of her elaborate dress.

His arm shot out, grabbing her arm firmly to prevent her from falling.

"Rajkumari," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "you will not speak of my wife in such a manner."

At that moment, the curtain was pushed aside.

Krishna's neck snapped to his side to see Devashree step into the room. He watched as her eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her—him— holding the Rajkumari close.

Devashree's gaze swept over the scene, taking in Tamasvi's disheveled appearance and his rigid stance.

His eyes met his wife's and Krishna nearly staggered. 

It was filled with so much pain, that his heart constricted in his chest. It nearly brought him to his knees.

He hastily released the Rajkumari's arm, his gaze shifting to his wife with a mixture of guilt and resolve.

"Shree," Krishna said, his voice softening as he turned to her, "I—"

Before he could finish, Devashree turned abruptly and fled from the room. The sight of her running, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, shattered him. Her tears glistened in the light and they cut through him like a dagger.

"Wait! It's not what it looks like, priye!" Krishna called out, but his voice was swallowed by the distance between them. 

But she had already fled.

Krishna moved to follow Devashree. His steps quickened, but before he could reach the door, a firm hand clasped his shoulder.

"Shri Krishna, please—" The Rajkumari's voice was a soft plea, but it barely registered in his mind.

But Krishna's eyes were filled with only one thing now: the image of his wife, her form fading into the distance, swallowed by her anguish. It was all he could see.

"Leave!" He thundered and wrenched his arm free from the Rajkumari's grasp and bolted toward the door, his heart racing faster than his feet. He had to reach her—had to mend the rift before it grew any wider.

The soul bond he shared with Devashree felt like it was straining, fraying at the edges, threatening to snap under the pressure of her pain.

Why was she in so much pain..why?

It was a simple misunderstanding. It should go away after a simple conversation.

It didn't matter. Nothing else mattered now—only the woman he loved and the desperate need to talk to her.

He tore through the corridors, his heart racing faster than his feet.

He reached their chamber, breathless and desperate, but as he pushed open the door, his heart sank. 

The room was empty. The soft glow of the lamps cast long shadows across the walls, but there was no sign of her.

"Shree?" he called out but there was no response. He hurried to the balcony, hoping to find her there, but it too was deserted. 

He turned back into the corridor, grabbing the nearest servant by the arm.

"Where is she, Dwarkeshwari?" Krishna's voice was edged with urgency, his grip firm.

The servant shook his head, wide-eyed, "I haven't seen her, Prabhu."

Krishna released him and moved on, asking everyone he encountered, but each response only deepened his fear. 

No one had seen her. She was nowhere to be found.

His thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of her reaction. Why had she been so affected? It was nothing. Nothing was the matter. 

Perhaps... perhaps it was the hormones? 

He knew how much Shree had been struggling lately, how her emotions had been running high. 

That must be it. 

He could work with that, he could appease her. He would explain everything to her, and she would understand. He will make sure of it.

But as he slowed down for a moment, catching his breath, the image of her face flashed vividly in his mind—her controlled expression, the composure she had tried so hard to maintain, and those eyes, those beautiful eyes, filled with an emotional pain so raw it nearly brought him to his knees.

 No! It wasn't just any misunderstanding. She was thinking of that incident—that incident. That terrible, life-altering moment.

The one that had nearly shattered them both.

How could he have forgotten? He had been so caught up in the moment, so focused that he hadn't considered what seeing them together might have triggered in his Shree.

"Oh Mahadev," Krishna whispered, the revelation hitting him like a thunderbolt. 

His mind drifted back to a memory that had long been buried in the depths of his consciousness.

He had stood on a barren, desolate plain in Paatal Lok . The ground was scorched and the sky was dark with ominous clouds. 

Before him stood a towering figure, his skin as dark as the deepest night, smeared with ash, and his neck encircled by a serpent. The man's eyes burned with an intensity that matched the anger boiling within his own chest. 

This was not an ordinary man—this was someone not to be trifled with. He was with matted locks, the crescent moon adorning his head, and a tiger skin wrapped around his waist.

In one hand, he held his trident, its three prongs gleaming ominously. His presence was both terrifying and awe-inspiring, a force of nature that could not be contained.

But in this moment, he—was not in awe. 

He was consumed by a rage that mirrored the fury in the man's eyes. He had never been so angry in his life.

First this man attacks and kills his children in the form of a massive bull and now has the audacity to intimidate him and try to mess with his mind.

They had fought long and hard, their divine energies clashing in a battle that shook the very fabric of the cosmos. 

"Narayan!" The man's voice voice thundered again, echoing across the empty plain. 

"Why do you call me that?" he asked. "I am not Narayan. I am just a husband, a father. Leave me to my life, Mahadev."

But Mahadev would not be deterred. He had looked at him with those eyes, those fierce, piercing eyes that saw beyond the simple life he had built. "You are Narayan," Mahadev had said, his voice a low growl. "You cannot escape what you are."

Mad! he thought to himself. This man is mad! 

Who was this Narayan? And why was this man calling him so? He was no Narayan! 

But Narayan—no, he—shook his head, denying the name. That was not his name. His name was....

It was... who was he? He shook his head trying to remember. 

He knew himself. Of course he did. But his name... what was his name? 

It didn't matter. All that mattered was his family, his five wives, his children. He was just a man, wasn't he? A man who wanted nothing more than to protect and cherish those he loved.

He had been enjoying just that—reveling in the love and warmth of his family, savoring the simple joys of existence—when this dark-skinned, ash-covered figure had appeared before him, shattering his peace.

So they had fought long and hard for years now but this stubborn man was not relenting at all.

And that man!!! He was so strong!  He was still standing strong, refusing to be defeated, refusing to back down.He didn't get defeated even by all those astras that he used on him. But where did those astras come from?  

It didn't matter. What mattered was his family. That's all !  And he would destroy anyone who dared to harm them, even this... this madman who kept calling him a name that wasn't his.

"Narayan" That cursed man! Stop saying that name!

"Narayan!" Mahadev shouted again, and the name rang in his ears, in his very soul. It was a name that held power, a name that seemed to carry the weight of countless lifetimes, a name that was... his? No! No, it couldn't be.

And now there was this elephant-headed child who was explaining something to his wives.

But the child...there was something familiar about him and what was the child saying? Something important, perhaps, but he was too tired, too drained to care—tired of the endless fighting, tired of the relentless struggle. He wanted it to end, wanted peace.

And then, everything shifted.

He saw his wives, their faces etched with sorrow, with regret. They turned to him, their eyes filled with a deep sadness. Slowly, they kneeled before him, their hands joined together in supplication, in resignation.

"We free you for your boon, Prabhu," they said, their voices soft, yet heavy with the weight of the words they spoke. "We free you from this, Narayan."

And then he was clutching his head. 

Something inside him broke. Like a dam. The walls he had built around his true self, the identity he had clung to so desperately, began to crumble. The name he had denied, the truth he had refused to accept, came crashing down upon him with the force of a thousand memories, a thousand lives. 

Turns out he was not just a husband, not just a father. 

He was Narayan, the Preserver, the one who maintained the balance of the universe.

He remembered everything now—the serpent man Mahadev, his Aradhya, who was not just a man but the Destroyer, the elephant-headed child Vinayaka, who was not just a child but the remover of obstacles, the great milky ocean where he had once reclined on the many-headed serpent Adishesha, the owl that was Uluka, and so much more......

But above all, he remembered her. 

She, who dominated all his memories. 

She who had filled his life with love pure and unyielding infinite love.

She who had been with him through countless lifetimes, through the eons of creation and destruction, through the cycles of birth and rebirth.  

His anchor, his solace, his eternal companion.

His Mahalakshmi. His Sri.

Her image filled his mind, her radiant presence cutting through the fog of his memories, grounding him in a way nothing else could. Her eyes, those deep, compassionate eyes, looked at him with an understanding that went beyond words, beyond thoughts. She who shared with him the bond that had remained unbroken, no matter the form, no matter the life.

He smiled as he remembered her.

But then the past and the present coalesce together and a gasp left his lips.

He fell to his knees. 

What had he done!?  He had gone and married not one but five women. And not only that, he had fathered children with them. And he had enjoyed it. While abandoning his dear wife,

Bile rose in his throat as the guilt and shame overwhelmed him. He retched all over.

He.....he had lived a life of blissful ignorance, and all the while his Lakshmi—his true companion, his other half—had been left to suffer the agony of a broken heart.

Because of him!!

Hey Mahadev!

He, the one who was meant to be hers for all eternity, had forgotten her, had abandoned her and for what? Because of his anger?  

The thought was unbearable.

But it was true. He had been angry when they had an argument and she had asked him to leave. And then the women from Paatal lok had called to him, there prayers had reached him. And he had answered.

They had asked for him. To accept them as his wives. He had wanted to decline immediately. But  his Devotees were asking him for a boon. It was a wrong boon. But he had to give in. His devotees needed to learn some lessons. And the anger was still there. So he had given it to them.

But at what cost? .....At the cost of his Sri's crushed heart?

A cry tore from his lips, raw and anguished, as he clutched at his chest.... no....not clutched but clawed at his chest. His nails dig into his chest. He would tear this heart out. The heart...the very heart that had betrayed her so cruelly. 

A sob tore from his throat, raw and broken. "Sri....!" he cried out, his voice trembling with the anguish that wracked his soul. 

"Please Sri...come to me...."

But the words felt hollow, empty. How could she forgive him? How could she ever look at him the same way again, after what he had done? The bond they shared, the love that had sustained them through the ages—he had fractured it himself, perhaps beyond repair.

He was lost.

"Narayan" He felt a hand on his shoulder. "You are not lost," Mahadev said, his voice calm and unwavering. "This is not the end, Narayan."

"But... I hurt her," Narayan whispered, his voice choked with the weight of his guilt. "I left her behind, Mahadev. I abandoned her when she needed me the most. How can I ever be forgiven for that?"

"The bonds between you and Lakshmi are not so easily severed," he replied. "Yes, you have made mistakes, and yes, the pain is real. But love—true love—is enduring. It is not broken by anger, nor by pride. You know it better than me Aradhya."

Narayan shook his head, still unable to forgive himself. " I betrayed her. How can she ever forgive me? How can I ever forgive myself?"

He closed his eyes in despair.

Soft palms cupped his face and his tear stricken face was pulled up to face Sati. " Bhrata, you must compose yourself. Look at the Prithvi."

He looked at it. It was all black. Fumes were surrounding it from all sides and choking the life out of it. 

"I did that." He gasped.

"Yes. But only you can make it better, Bhrata. Come on, get up. Sakhi needs you. And you need her. You can not exist without each other."

Narayan looked at his sister and his eyes bored into hers. " I don't want to exist anymore behen."

"You cannot destroy what is eternal, Narayan" Mahadev said in a firm voice.

"I don't deserve to be Narayan anymore, Mahadev."

"You mustn't speak like that, Bhrata," Sati whispered. "Your existence is not just for yourself. It is for her, for the world, for the balance that only you can maintain. If you give up now, you will leave behind a world that desperately needs you. And you will leave her to suffer alone."

"Yes Aradhya, you are Narayan, the Sanchalak or have you forgotten once more. You, more than anyone, understand the balance between creation and destruction, between love and loss. You must face the consequences of your actions, but do not let them destroy you."

"But what if she won't have me back?" His voice cracked with the fear that had taken root in his heart. "What if I've lost her forever?  I'm so afraid, Sati. Afraid that I've done irreparable damage. That I've lost the one person who means everything to me."

"You haven't," Sati said with certainty. "Lakshmi's love for you is as eternal as yours is for her. She may be hurt, she may be angry, but she has not abandoned you, Bhrata."

"You don't know that." Narayan shook his head.

"I do know. Even you know that. You know how she usually is. Straightforward and upfront. Wears her heart on her sleeve...like a child. If she had truly given up, she would have found a way to distance herself. But she hasn't. Instead she is suffering now, Bhrata, every moment, every minute, every second, she has been suffering for centuries. She suffers because she loves you deeply, and her love endures even through the pain. She's waiting, even if it's in a place of deep hurt. She may not know that herself, but she is waiting for you to find your way back to her, just as you always have." 

Narayan's tears flowed freely now. 

"Please, Bhrata, I cannot see her like this," Sati's voice was choked with emotion. "Please do something... I beg you."

Narayan wiped his tears and stood. "You are right. She has suffered a lot already and I have done enough damage. I will earn her forgiveness, even if it takes all my life. I will do that. Where is she?"

******

Narayan made his way through the deep ocean to the Samudranagari of his father-in-law. His heart ached with every step he took through the oceanic depths.

Never in all his years had he felt so unwelcome in this kingdom as he did now. The creatures, who once might have greeted him with reverence, now shunned him.

They were right though. He did not deserve to be here. To be with their Rajkumari anymore. 

Even the guards at the entrance looked at him with disdain.

But still he cleared his throat. "I wish to see Lakshmi."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances before one of them stepped forward. "She is not seeing visitors at this time. She is... not in a state to receive anyone."

"Please, I need to speak with her. It is urgent. I have come to make amends."

The guards hesitated, the tension in the air palpable. Just as one was about to refuse, a commanding voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"MOVE!"

Narayan looked up to see the Samudrasamrat, his father-in-law, towering over him with a fierce expression.

"Pitashree, please..." Narayan began.

"You have the audacity, Narayan! HOW DARE YOU COME HERE? How dare you show your face here after all you have done?" Samudrasamrat's voice thundered, reverberating through the halls of Samudranagari.

The anger was justified. And he would take a thousand times more if it meant catching a glimpse of his Priye.

With his hands joined, Narayan bowed his head. "Please, Pitashree... I beg you to let me see her. I have come to make amends, to seek her forgiveness."

 "After all the pain you have caused my daughter? You think a few words will undo the suffering you've brought upon her? You think you deserve even a moment of her time?"

"No, Pitashree, I know I do not deserve her forgiveness. But I must try. I must do everything in my power to right the wrongs I have committed. Please, I beg of you, allow me to speak with her."

The guards, who had been standing on alert, tensed as the atmosphere grew heavier. It seemed as though Samudrasamrat's anger would unleash a storm that even he might not withstand.

Just as Samudrasamrat was about to dismiss him, a gentle but firm voice cut through the tension. "Allow him, Arya."

The sound of the voice caused everyone to turn. Goddess Taringini, the consort of Samudrasamrat, stepped forward.

Samudrasamrat looked at his wife, his anger still simmering but tempered by her words. "Taringini, after all he's done, how can we allow him to see her?"

"Arya, allow him to grace the presence of Sindhusuta. Narayan and Lakshmi are Adi Dampatti.—the eternal pair. They are not meant to be separated, no matter the circumstances. By keeping him from her, you are not only standing in the way of their bond, but you are also prolonging the agony of our Priya Samudratanaya. Arya, the pain he has caused is undeniable, but so is the love he holds for our daughter. If there is a chance, even a small one, that he can bring her some semblance of peace, we must allow it."

The Samudra samrat looked down and then towards Narayan silently beckoning him to go inside. 

Narayan's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped past the guards, their wary eyes following his every move.

The journey to his Lakshmi's chambers felt endless. 

The creatures of the deep, who once sang his praises, now turned away, their eyes filled with silent judgment. 

He reached the grand doors that led to her private quarters, doors he had passed through countless times before. But today, they seemed like a barrier he was unworthy to cross. 

He hesitated, his hand hovering over the ornate handle. The memories of happier times flooded his mind—times when these doors would open to reveal her radiant smile.

What if she refused to see him? What if she couldn't find it in her heart to forgive him? 

But he had to try. For her. 

The doors creaked open and Narayan was met with  utter silence. 

It was dim. Too dim and eerily still. The air was thick with sorrow, and the light that usually danced in the water seemed to have faded.

She was seated by the window, her figure partially obscured by the flowing silks of her saree. Her back was to him. Her usually vibrant aura was now muted, dulled by the pain he had caused.

Narayan's breath caught in his throat as he took a hesitant step forward. "Sri..." he whispered, his voice barely audible, choked with emotion.

"Sri... please, look at me," he pleaded, his voice cracking.

 She turned around and met his eyes.

Narayan gasped. 

Her beautiful large lotus eyes were empty —dead

******

A/N

Ok. don't kill me now. I wanted to finish not only the flashback but also the subsequent conversation between Krishna and Shree in this chapter itself. But then it would have taken another day or so. So here it is...😮‍💨

Words: 7014

Should I continue the flashback or end it ? Do tell me. 

And don't forget to hit ⭐ and show some ❤️.

Until next time.....❤️✨