DEVASHREE SAT SILENTLY BY KRISHNA'S SIDE, her face pale from exhaustion, her eyes red and swollen. She had spent the entire night painstakingly collecting milk from her breasts, storing it in small earthen containers for her infant son, Pradyumna.

She gently placed the last container on a tray and then changed her attire into a simpler one. A plain blue saree and no ornaments. Only the ring Krishna had given her.

The door creaked open, and Devaki entered, carrying little Pradyumna in her arms, now wide awake. The child's face lit up at the sight of his mother, and he squealed with delight, stretching his chubby arms toward her. Devashree's exhaustion melted momentarily as she smiled, taking her son into her arms.

"My sweet Tanu," she whispered, pressing kisses all over his face. Pradyumna giggled—his laughter like a balm to her aching heart.

"You've been up all night, haven't you, Putri Devashree? Your eyes tell the story."

Devashree chuckled softly, though her voice was tinged with weariness. "A mother's duty never ends, Mata. I wanted to ensure my son has everything he needs while I'm away. I have prepared everything. Here are all the medicines Swami is currently prescribed. This one is for his fever, and this for the pain. Make sure he takes them on time, Mata. And... ensure he eats, even if it's just a little." She gestured to a neatly organized array of small jars and scrolls on a nearby table. "I have explained the dosages to the attendants. I've also stored enough milk for Pradyumna. He will not go hungry. And I will come back soon."

Gently placing Pradyumna on the mat on the floor, Devashree handed him a small wooden toy. "Be good for everyone, okay, Tanu?" she said, her voice breaking slightly as she kissed his forehead one last time 

"You've thought of everything, but who will ensure that you rest, Putri?"

 "I'll rest when my Swami is well again," she said softly, brushing a stray curl from her son's forehead. Then she turned back to Devaki with a half-teasing, half-serious tone. 

"And you, Mata—you must take care of yourself too. I've instructed the attendants to bring you food on time. If I find out you've neglected your health, I'll complain to Pitashree—and to Swami when he's awake!"

Devaki reached out to clasp Devashree's hand. "You don't have to do this. Krishna is recovering, isn't he? Can't you see how far he's come?"

"Mata, he hasn't left this chamber in a month," Devashree replied, her voice tinged with frustration and sorrow. "His strength is fading, and the people are beginning to talk. Something must be done before rumors spread further."

"But Putri," Devaki pressed, "I've seen signs of his recovery. Just yesterday, I noticed his chest was clear—those terrible boils were gone!"

Devashree stiffened at the mention of the boils. Her gaze flickered to Krishna, her husband who lay unconscious, his face pale but serene. She moved closer, pulling the blanket down slightly to reveal his chest. It was true—the boils were no longer visible.

"I told you, Putri," Devaki said with a smile. "The worst is behind us—look, there is not a single mark left!"

Devashree swallowed hard, her throat tightening. She knew the truth. The boils were gone because she had taken them upon herself. She had tried to do that and by god's blessings it had worked! It had made her so happy and then she had moved all over his body touching every mark and scar to draw every pain from out of his body and into hers. 

And it had worked!  

The boils had erupted on her skin instead, painful and angry, but she bore them willingly. She had laughed in happiness only to watch in despair as they returned to him within hours.

Devaki's gasp shattered her thoughts. "Look, Putri—what is this?"

Devashree's heart sank as she turned her eyes back to Krishna. To her horror, the boils were beginning to reappear on his chest, small angry welts blooming one by one. Devaki's hand flew to her mouth.

"What is happening?" Devaki whispered.

Devashree hesitated, her own hands shaking as she covered Krishna's chest once more. "It's...not getting better but worse mata."

Devaki knelt beside her. "Putri, this is not natural. How could this be? The boils vanished, and now they are returning before our very eyes!"

Devashree closed her eyes for a brief moment. "I don't know why, Mata. And this why I need to go. But I promise you, I will not stop until he is well again."

Devaki's hands gripped Devashree's tightly. "But where will you go? What will you do?"

"Not far, Mata," Devashree replied. "It is said that a great Mahavaidya resides nearby— He is rumored to cure even the gravest of ailments. I will go to him."

Devaki shook her head vehemently. "Tell me the name of this Mahavaidya, and I will send people far and wide across Aryavarta to find him! Putri, why must you go? Let Balram go in your place. Or even Uddhava. Or Arya himself.There is no need for you to take on this burden alone!"

"Mata," Devashree said softly. "This Mahavaidya... he does not come easily. He is not one to respond to messengers or royal orders. But I believe he will come if I plead with him personally. This is something only I can do."

Devaki's face crumpled with anguish. "And what if he refuses you, Putri? What if he cannot help?"

 "Then I will not stop searching, Mata. If this Mahavaidya cannot help, I will find another. And another. I will not rest until he is whole again."

Tears glistened in Devaki's eyes as she cupped Devashree's face. "You have the heart of a lioness, Putri. But promise me—promise me you will not neglect your own health in this pursuit. Krishna needs you, and so does Pradyumna."

"Don't worry, Mata. I will return soon. I will not let them feel my absence. I will return. With the Mahavaidya or with answers."

Devaki embraced her, the faint cries of Pradyumna broke the heavy silence. Devashree pulled away, lifting her son into her arms one last time. She held him close, his small hands patting her cheeks as she whispered, "Stay strong for me, my sweet Tanu."

She stood up and went towards the door. Exiting, she removed her footwear by the chamber. She took one last look and then turned back, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. 

And just like that, she forgot about everything. She left her worries at the door.

She let go. Her worries for her husband, the gnawing ache of his illness. Her concerns for her infant son. The weight of her duties as a queen, the burdens of the kingdom.

Everything.

How remarkable it is, this mastery over the mind was a feat only a few can achieve. To silence the relentless chatter of thoughts, to set aside the turmoil of emotions in a single breath. 

It is no small task......To tame a lion or a tiger, to bend the will of the fiercest beast, now that is so much simpler than conquering one's own mind.

For the mind is a restless creature,  leaping from one thought to another, drawn to distractions, fears, and desires. But it can be subdued—not through force but by determination. Like one determined to empty the vast ocean, drop by drop, with nothing but the tip of a blade of grass.

Such was the discipline Devashree wielded. The discipline and control that even the great Rishimunis struggled to attain.

She was compassionate and all beings in the universe would agree hundred percent . But that was not all her strength. She also had unparalleled mastery over herself.

People often overlooked this about her, enchanted as they were by her beauty and grace. Yet, they forgot—or perhaps never knew—that she was a master of all arts. She had been Acharya Raghvendra's most learned student, her mind as sharp as a blade and her will as unyielding as the mountains.

So, she let go of her worries. Her husband. Her child. Her kingdom. Even the pain from the boils that burned her skin. And just one name filled her veins. 

Mahadev.

It pulsed through her, steady and powerful, anchoring her as she took her first step forward. With every breath, every heartbeat, every thought, she was consumed by him. 

And not once did she stop or falter.

Not when the people of Dwarka emerged from their homes, their eyes wide with curiosity and concern, to see their queen walking barefoot on the gravelly stones. Not when they called out to her, asking where she was going.

She only smiled gently, her voice steady and unwavering as she reassured them, "I will be back soon."

She went on and on until she stood before the base of a steep, towering mountain outside Dwarka.

It loomed before her, its jagged peaks piercing the sky like the teeth of a colossal beast.

This was the hill of legend. It loomed before her like a challenge, its slopes rugged and nearly vertical. It was said that a Shivling rested atop this humongous hill—a sacred place, touched by Mahadev himself. But no one had ever reached it.

Many had tried. Warriors with strength to move mountains. Hermits with decades of tapasya behind them. Even the most devoted bhakts of Mahadev. But none had succeeded.They had returned, battered and defeated, or worse, never returned at all.

Yet Devashree did not hesitate.

Her gaze lifted to the summit, and she whispered under her breath, "Mahadev."

Her bare feet pressed into the rocky earth and she began the climb.

Mahadev was in utter bliss feeling the devotion of his devotee inside him with his eyes closed. He was watching Devashree climb the almost vertical hill. her every breath filled with his name. The winds that threatened to push her back, the sharp stones that tore at her feet—none of it mattered.

Parvati looked sideways at her husband who had a small smile playing at his lips. "Khush toh bohot honge aap Mahadev."  "You must be so happy Mahadev"

Mahadev opened his eyes. "I am. True devotion always makes me happy but I also can't help feeling a twinge of sadness. Why did Lakshmi not come here directly? She could have...she should have. I would surely have helped her. Does she feel I would not help her?"

"Don't blame her, Swami. Honestly, I would have been the same if someone had done to me what we have done to her—whether knowingly or unknowingly."

Mahadev sighed, "I do not blame her, Devi, But it pains me to think she might doubt my love, my willingness to help her in her time of need. Have I, too, failed her in some way? I think so. Where is my little sister who used to chide me for not listening, who would march into Kailash unannounced, demanding I taste her kheer or inspect her handiwork? Where is my sister who would tie a rakhi on my wrist with pride, pestering me for the best gift I could offer?"

"If you don't want her to suffer so much, why don't you go and get her right now?" Parvati questioned as she watched Devashree almost fall but her bloodied hands were somehow steadying herself."

Mahadev pouted and gave her a side eye. "I would have if I could. But she has called me as a devotee..I cannot go there as a brother."

Parvati chuckled. "Of course, you can Mahadev!"

"You know very well I don't discriminate between my devotees." He sulked.

"Oh, Mahadev, sometimes you are as stubborn as a child. Yes, you do not discriminate, but can't you see?  This is about love. Your love for your sister."

"No, it's about devotion."

"Isn't devotion a form of love?"

"It would not be fair to others."

"Everything is fair in love and war.

"Stop making sense woman." He grumbled.

"So you admit I am right."

"I do not."

"Just go to her before she injures herself more."

"Can't."

"Yes, You can."

"No"

"Yes."

"No"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"See? I knew you'd come around." Parvati smirked.

Mahadev blinked, realizing what he had just said. "Wait... No! That was a trick!"

"Was it?" Parvati teased, crossing her arms and tilting her head. "It doesn't matter. I won anyway. Now get lost."

"No devi. As much as I want to go, I shouldn't. "

"Do you enjoy seeing her bleed and suffer like this, Mahadev?" Parvati's tone was sharper now, her playful smirk replaced with a look of genuine concern. "She has enough on her plate right now yet she is there chanting your name as if her life depends on it. Isn't it enough?"

"It is more than enough for me, Devi. But I am afraid it's not enough for her. She wants me to meet her when she reaches the top. That's the goal she set for herself. I honor it.  I will not let her fall, but I will not take away her right to rise. I know she can do it."

Devashree had been climbing for two relentless days, her body battered and broken. Her bare feet were torn and bloodied, her hands scraped raw from gripping jagged rocks. The sun had scorched her skin during the day, and the biting cold of the night had seeped into her very bones. Yet, not once did she stop. Her breaths were shallow, her vision blurred, but her resolve burned brighter than ever.

Her knees buckled as she reached the summit, and she collapsed onto the ground. Crawling forward, she dragged her trembling, bloodied hand across the rocky terrain.

 Finally, she reached the Shivling.

With a final surge of strength, Devashree placed her hand upon it, her blood smearing the sacred stone. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "Mahadev."

She called his name and he wasted no time to appear before her. "Devashree, I am pleased with your devotion. Though I wonder why you did not come to me as a sister?"

Devashree looked away. "I wanted to leave no stones unturned."

"Hmm. That you haven't. Tell me what is it that you wish?"

"Cure my husband, please. Make Krishna well again just like he was before."

Mahadev pursed his lips. "I cannot do that. Ask me something else."

Devashree's eyes flashed with hurt. "How can you say that? You are the greatest among the gods, the one who holds the power to destroy and create worlds. And yet you tell me you cannot save him? Why, Mahadev? Why will you not help him? Why won't you help me?"

"It is not that I do not wish to help, Devashree. It's just that I can't. I promise you there is something else at work here. I cannot interfere. Please ask for something else."

Devashree stood up abruptly and met Mahadev's eyes. "You always do this, and yet ask why I never come to you as your sister. Why is it that your rules and duties come before your love Mahadev? "

"You know very well that I cannot interfere...."

"WHY? Why can't you? I would have done it for you! Then why can't you do the same? Every time, every time Mahadev! And I know why you do this. Because there is absolutely nothing that you feel for me."

"That's not true. You are my sister. I have always loved you as one."

" You never did. Because when you love someone, you can't just turn the other way when someone you love is going through a hard time. You can't just ignore their pains and struggles. You can't let them fight their battles on their won. Because if you do then you don't truly love them. You have to be there, you have to watch their backs and let them know that they are not alone. You know what, I don't want your help anymore."

"No, please wait."

But Devashree wasn't listening anymore. She had had enough! He always did this. Whenever she had tried to reach out to him for help, he always had excuses. She turned around abruptly away from him, ready to climb down the hill. She had lost her hope. What would she do now? Where will she go?  Her Tanu must be looking around for his mother and the milk she had left for will be finished now. She needed to get back to him first and then.........then what?  She swallowed hard. She could feel fear crawling in her heart but it vanished abruptly as a hand rested on her shoulder.

"Behen please, I promise I want to help you."

Devashree turned on her heel to face him. Her eyes were blazing fiercely. "Then prove it! Give me a boon! That can help me cure Krishna off all his ailments!"

"I...." Mahadev looked down and took her hands in his. "Please ask me something else. The ailment that Narayan suffers is.....his own doing. Only he knows how to cure it."

Devashree frowned. "What the hell are you saying? He can cure it himself? Does he not know how? Why hasn't he done it yet?"

"I don't know behen."

"I don't believe you." She turned away from him only to find him right in front of him again. Her nose collided with his chest and she scowled at him, rubbing the tip of her nose. 

"Move, Mahadev. If you're not going to help me, then stop standing in my way!"

Mahadev sighed. If someone else had talked to him in this way, he would have been harsh with them, but he couldn't be harsh or angry with her. She was right at her place. But how could he tell her that all this was her husband's doing, and he could hardly try to disrupt him? And if he opened his mouth, Krishna would definitely start his havoc of pranks again in Kailash. Mahadev suppressed a shudder as the memory of that mischief played vividly in his mind.

It had been an ordinary day—or so he had thought. Mahadev had been deep in meditation when he felt the faint tug. Krishna was up to something. Again.

The realization had struck moments too late. By the time Mahadev opened his eyes, his flowing, matted locks had already been transformed. Not the wild, untamed jata that signified his ascetic life, but a radiant pink mane, soft and silky, cascading down his back.

Parvati had been the first to see it. She had stopped mid-step, her mouth agape. For a moment, she had simply stared, her hands clutching a basket of flowers. Then, the laughter erupted.

"Swami," she had managed between gasps, tears of mirth streaming down her face. "Is this... is this your idea of a new look? Pink? Really?"

Mahadev had frowned, confused. "What are you talking about, Devi?" He had reached up to run a hand through his hair—and froze. The silky texture was foreign, the color so glaringly bright that even the reflection in his Trishul confirmed the horror. By the gods!! His beautiful long back matter hair were gone! Replaced by some pink atrocity!

Before he could react, Nandi had entered the courtyard, the moment his gaze landed on his lord, his lips twitched, then parted, and before long, the great bull was doubled over in laughter.

"Mahadev," Nandi wheezed, "your... your jata... it's... oh, by the gods!"

The ganas had followed suit and several snorts filled the area.

Parvati was practically rolling on the ground, clutching her sides, while even the most stoic among them cracked under the absurdity of the sight.

His booming "Enough!" did little to restore order; the pink locks only made the command seem... fluffy.

Nobody took him seriously. A ripped muscleman like him with long soft pink hair...it was too much.

The more Mahadev glared, the harder the ganas laughed. Their snorts turned into guffaws, and a few of them even collapsed onto the ground, clutching their stomachs.

Even Nandi was no better. He had collapsed on the ground onto his back and his four legs up in the air.

Parvati had momentarily regained control of herself, lost it all over again at Nandi's state She waved a hand weakly, trying to speak but failing miserably as fresh waves of laughter overtook her.

"Devi!" Mahadev thundered. "You, of all people, are supposed to support me!"

Parvati wiped her tears, still giggling. "Swami," she said. "I do support you. It's just... I can't... not when you look like this!"

Mahadev sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Bhrata Krishna had thoroughly outwitted you today."

The mention of Krishna made Mahadev's jaw tighten. He knew exactly who was behind this—The god of Mischief. Mahadev's hands itched to summon his Trishul and march straight to Mrutyulok, but he knew better than to escalate. Krishna would only double down.

A small, sheepish gana finally dared to approach, holding a mirror in trembling hands. "Perhaps, Mahadev, you'd like to... see for yourself?"

Mahadev snatched the mirror, glaring at his reflection. The sight of his rugged, fierce visage framed by cascading pink curls made him groan inwardly. "This is intolerable," he muttered.

"Swami," Parvati teased, now calmer but still grinning, "I think it suits you. Perhaps we should keep it for a while?"

"Devi, you are testing my patience."

"Oh, come now, Swami. It's just hair," she replied, her tone playful. "Besides, I'm sure Bhrata Krishna is watching, enjoying every moment of this."

Mahadev's eyes narrowed. "Of course, he is." He glanced upward, his voice rising. "Narayan! When I catch you, you'll wish you'd never thought of this!"

Somewhere in Vrindavan, Krishna lounged comfortably on a swing, his peacock feather swaying in the breeze as he laughed heartily. "Oh, Mahadev," he mused, "this will teach you not to poke your nose in my Leelas" He scoffed. "How dare you complain to Devashree that it was me who stole the fresh Makhan she had made that day?"

Mahadev had only mentioned it in passing—to warn Devashree, of course—it had apparently offended the mischievous god deeply.

Mahadev cleared his throat, attempting to dispel the memory of Krishna's mischief. He knew better than to bring it up—especially to Devashree, who would undoubtedly demand answers. If she ever got to know about this, she would beg him to dye his hair pink just so she could see it for herself......and the worst part...he would have to give in because there was no standing her puppy looks. He could already picture her, standing there with those innocent eyes, silently begging him to dye his hair pink just so she could see it. The very thought made his skin crawl, but he knew, all too well, that he wouldn't be able to refuse her.

But right now here she was, her fiery eyes piercing through him as if daring him to keep stalling.

He cleared his throat again "Devashree," he said carefully, "there are... consequences to interfering with Narayan's path. You may not know this, but he has a way of ensuring no one meddles in his affairs. Please ask me something else. You know I can't let you go without it?"

"Fine!" She snapped. "Give me a boon to give my remaining years to him."

Mahadev instantly became serious. "Think again. Boons can be very treacherous."

Devashree bit her lip and thought again on what she had asked. He was right. Boons are sometimes interpreted quite literally. If she gave away her remaining life to Krishna, his life years would increase but it wouldn't cure him. She sighed in defeat. 

"I already asked you....but you said you can't give me what I want." Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked in Mahadev's eyes. "Please bhrata, show me a way, something, anything!"

Mahadev placed a hand on her shoulder. "I cannot solve this for you, but I can definitely show you the way. The moment you enter Dwarka, you will know."

"Why not now? Why don't you tell me now?"

"It is not mine to tell. Trust me, you will get the answer."

"Okay." 

"Now about the boon....."

"I don't want anything Bharata.  Just..  keep him safe until I return. Promise me that, at least," Devashree whispered

Mahadev's gaze softened. "I promise, Devashree. Until you return, no harm shall come to him. This I vow."

Her shoulders sagged with relief, though the ache in her heart remained. "Thank you," she murmured, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Mahadev watched as she turned to leave, "Arey wait....you still haven't asked me for a boon."

Devashree turned back with a poker face, "I just did."

"That was no boon. That was just a brother's promise to his sister."

"I don't want anything." 

Devashree turned away again and started to climb down the hill. She put a foot down grasping the stone. Her grip was firm but somehow she slipped and was going to fall down when a hand cluched her wrist and pulled. Mahadev pulled her up on the land like a ragdoll. He looked at her straight into her eyes. She was glaring hard at him. Devashree yanked her hand away and straightened herself.

"You made me slip deliberately!"

"I caught you, didn't I?"

"I could have died!"

"Then stop walking away from me!"

"I am going because I am done here."

"But I wasn't done speaking. "

"But I was done listening!" She again turned around and started to walk away. It took a little while for her to realise that she was walking in the opposite direction. 

Shit. Now she had to turn back. 

She turned and made her way back to where Mahdev was standing without meeting his eyes. When she reached him, Mahadev tried to fold his arms but the Trishul was getting in the way. He finally gave up, letting the weapon rest against the ground and then crossed his arms.

"Why must you be so stubborn? Will you at least hear me out before storming off?"

She crossed her arms, her eyes blazing. "Fine. Speak. And make it fast."

"Where was I?......Ah yes....So I am a one of the Tridev...."

Devashree let out a fake laugh. "Oh really? I had no idea."

Mahadev ignored her. "As I was saying, being one of the Tridev comes with certain responsibilities. And so I have a responsibility to satisfy my bhakhts when they devote themselves to me and worship me. That is how it works. So you have to ask me for a boon and I will fulfill it."

Devashree was looking at him with a deadpan expression.

"Don't look at me like that, Devashree. Some things are out of my hand so I denied you earlier, but I can give you other things. This isn't easy for me either."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes, I'm sure standing on a hill, holding your Trishul, and dodging actual responsibility must be exhausting."

His lips twitched, threatening to smile "You're impossible," he muttered before continuing. "My point is, you must ask me for something. I am sure you know.Because if you won't then...."

"Then?"

"Then I will be disgraced, my nose will get cut off. "

"Don't worry you would still look the same."

"The Devgan will make fun of me! It will be a very shameful thing to let prayers go unanswered.If you just ask me for something else...."

"Will you stop ASKING ABOUT IT?!  I can't think of anything right now!  I didn't know someone other than Krishna could eat my brain, but here you are pestering me incessantly."

Mahadev let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Devashree, you are impossible."

"And you're insufferable!" she shot back.

They stood there for a moment. "You know, Devashree, you're the only one who can make even a Tridev lose his patience."

"That's it, I'm done. You want an order for a boon, fine, I'll figure it out later, but I'm not going to stand here and listen to you whine about your nose. Write it in your diary or something. Devashree has a pending boon. Need to fulfill it ASAP after she figures it out for herself. Okay?"

Mahadev stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. "Why must you be so stubborn?"

"Why must you be so annoying?"

"I am annoying?!"

"Yes, you are annoying!" Devashree snapped, throwing her hands in the air. "Go away and stop arguing with me."

Mahadev raised a brow. "You think I want to be here arguing with you? I could be meditating in peace right now. Or doing tandava. Or literally anything else. But no, I'm here trying to fulfill my duty, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Then stop wasting time and let me go!" she shot back.

"Not until you ask for something," Mahadev replied stubbornly.

Devashree groaned in frustration, spinning on her heel. "Fine, I wish for you to be less irritating. There, happy?"

He smirked, folding his arms. "Sorry, that's beyond even my powers."

"There. You said it yourself. Everything is beyond your powers. There's absolutely nothing you can do. This just proves it."

Mahadev groaned. "Devashree, you are the most frustrating mortal—no, immortal—I've ever dealt with."

"Good," she replied, turning to leave once again. "Maybe you'll think twice before pestering me next time. Goodbye"

"Wait!" he called out. "I just wanted to....help."

"I don't want any of your help."

"Arey I told you na, you will find the way to cure him as soon as you reach Dwarka. I have indeed helped you, you just can't see it yet. Must you still make me feel guilty?"

"Yes."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Narayan truly married his match. I pity him."

"And I pity Parvati," she called back without missing a beat.

"At least let me take you to Dwarka real quick..."

"NO NEED!"

"I wasn't ASKING!" He said to her and snapped his fingers. 

In an instant, Devashree found herself no longer on the rocky hilltop but standing at the gates of Dwarka, its golden spires glinting in the sunlight.

"MAHADEV!" she shouted, fists clenched as she spun around, only to find him nowhere in sight. She glared at the sky. "I said I didn't need your help!"

A faint chuckle echoed in her mind. "You're welcome," his voice teased, and then it was gone.

Devashree huffed. First, he denies helping her and when she accepts it and wants to make him guilty and later rub it in his face, he goes and does this. She looked onwards at the bridge which led to Dwarka and sighed in relief. She only hoped she could find the cure soon. 

 With a weary sigh, she stepped onto the bridge, her feet bloodied and raw from the rocky terrain of the hilltop.

As she took each step, the cool water from the rising waves reached up, brushing against her feet as though the ocean itself was trying to soothe her.

 The city was now within reach, and as she crossed the bridge, the bustling streets of Dwarka came into view.

As she entered the city, the sight of her people stopped her in her tracks. At first, it was just a murmur—whispers of the queen's arrival. But soon, those whispers turned into gasps of shock as they took in the sight of their beloved queen, battered and bloodied. 

"Is she...?" one of the women gasped, clutching her chest. "What happened to the queen?"

"Is she well?" They hurried to her side

"Maharani! Are you well?" one of the women asked.

Devashree straightened her back and nodded despite her heavy exhaustion. "I am, thank you." A crowd had surrounded her in no time. "I am in a hurry to see Dwakadhish. Please make way."

But the people were not so easily dissuaded. 

"Stop, your highness!" one of the men called out, rushing forward. "You are injured, you cannot continue like this. Please, let us help you!"

"You are bleeding, Dwarkeshwari! You must rest."

But Devashree refused to stop, her mind fixed on one goal: finding Krishna, finding the cure. It must be somewhere here. Any minute now someone may come and then she will have it.

"I cannot stop now. I must see Dwarkadhish."

But the people's pleas only grew more frantic. A man stepped forward, holding a palki in his hands. "Please, Maharani, allow us to help you. You cannot walk any further like this. Let us carry you to the palace."

Devashree looked at their concerned faces. Perhaps she was pushing herself too hard.

She gave in. With a weary sigh, she nodded, her shoulders sagging slightly in surrender. "Very well," she said softly "I will sit."

The man quickly moved to place the palki before her Devashree lowered herself into it, her body sinking into the soft cushions. The people immediately began to gather around her, lifting the palki with reverence, their steps hurried but careful. Devashree began looking everywhere. Mahadev had said she would have the cure just as she stepped onwards onto Dwarka but she could see no sign of it. Despite Mahadev's assurance, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. No miracle, no revelation. Only the familiar sights and sounds of her city greeted her.

The procession neared the palace gates, and the men carrying the palki gently set it down. Devashree rose carefully, her bloodied feet touching the ground once more. She winced but steadied herself.

 "Nothing that concerns you," she said dismissively. "And who are you to ask, anyway?"

Gasps rippled through the onlookers.

"This is our queen, Maharani Devashree. Speak with respect, Rajkumari."

"The queen?" she said, her tone skeptical.  "Why is she walking among us like this, looking... well, like that?" She gestured to Devashree's bloodied feet and the dust-streaked hem of her saree.

"Regardless of my state, you will answer me. What is the cause of this commotion?" 

"We don't need to answer someone as pathetic as you. What wife leaves her husband like you did when he has been restricted to bed?" It was another finely dressed woman...well more of a girl really, she couldn't have been more than eleven. 

The crowd froze, stunned into silence at the Rajkumari's audacious words.

"And who are you?"

"I am Rajkumari of Andhra, Dayamanti."

"And what are you doing here in Dwarka, Rajkumari?"

"I have brought the strongest herbs from my kingdom for the recovery of Dwarkadhish Shri Krishna. But you can imagine my shock when I find out that his own wife had fled when he needed her the most."

 The audacity of the young girl's words left the crowd stunned as well as the guards who were standing by the gate. 

"How dare you speak to our queen like this!"

"Show some respect, Rajkumari! You're in Dwarka now, and this is our queen. She has done more for Dwarkadhish than you could possibly understand! You could be sent to the prison for daring to use such words of disrespect."

Devashree raised a hand, silencing the crowd with a single gesture

"Rajkumari Dayamanti," Devashree said, addressing her formally, "it is commendable that you have traveled from Andhra with herbs for Dwarkadhish's recovery. Your concern is appreciated. However," her tone sharpened slightly, "you should mind your words when speaking of matters you do not fully understand."

Dayamanti lifted her chin defiantly. "I speak only the truth. What kind of wife leaves her husband when he is ill? It is her duty to stay by his side. But you didn't ,did you? Where did you run off to? Or should I ask in whose arms did you run off to? Looks like perhaps you have a lover."

The crowd gasped audibly.

"How dare you!"

"Such vile accusations!" cried an elderly woman, clutching her hands to her chest. "Rajkumari, have you no shame?"

People left and right began an uproar.

"ENOUGH!" All eyes turned towards Devashree.

Her eyes locked onto Dayamanti's, their intensity enough to make the young girl falter slightly.

"You are young, Rajkumari, and clearly unacquainted with the weight of duty and sacrifice," Devashree said. "But I will not allow such baseless and vile accusations to go unanswered."

Dayamanti opened her mouth to retort but Devashree raised a hand silencing her.

"When a king lies ill, it is not the duty of his queen to simply sit at his bedside, wringing her hands in despair. It is her duty to do everything within her power to restore him, even if it means leaving his side temporarily. I left not to escape my responsibilities, but to fulfill them. I have walked miles, bled, and endured more than you could imagine, all to seek the cure that will bring Dwarkadhish back to health."

The crowd murmured in agreement, their expressions shifting from anger to pride as they listened to their queen.

"As for your insinuation of infidelity," Devashree continued, her tone colder now, "such accusations are not only unfounded but disgraceful. I suggest you choose your words with greater care in the future, Rajkumari, for they reflect more on your character than on mine."

Dayamanti's face flushed a deep crimson.

"If you cannot see that," Devashree finished, "then you are unworthy to speak of loyalty or love, much less to question mine. Remember that you stand in Dwarka now, where respect is both given and demanded in kind. Do not forget it."

Devashree turned her back to walk into the palace when another voice stopped her from behind.

"But she's not wrong." Another girl said. "Don't you think you should have stayed with Dwarkadhish, Ranisa? I would have done it."

"I would have too! In fact I would not have ever left his side! " The woman wearing plain clothes said. "Shri Krishna has done so much for us. He saved us from Kans then saved us from Jarasandh when he attacked Mathura and brought her here to Dwarka and gave us such a beautiful home. There is nothing I would not do for him. If were in your position, I would never have abandoned him, not for a moment.""

"Me too!" Another chimed. "Look , I brought this exotic leeches to suck out the diseases from inside Dwarkadhish. I sold all my gold to get them."

"And I have brought a new metal. Its totally foreign,my father had said. People of farmland call it Arsenic. It will cure Dwarkadhish in no time! I am astounded that you had the heart to leave in such a dire state Maharani."

Dayamanti smirked. "I know right? We would all have done the same. But not Dwarkeshwari. This proves who is the most undeserving of all, doesn't it? You Maharani who went off and fled at the first sign of trouble or us who will do anything for Dwarkadhish.  Where did you even go huh?"

"Yes, where were you?" Another asked.

"You said you went to find the cure.....did you find it?"

Devashree wanted so bad to say yes. but she couldn't now, could she? She had no cure for Krishna. 

"Where is it? Show us! WHy don't you?"

The questions came fast, and each one pierced her like an arrow.

"You don't have it, do you?" the voice from behind her asked again, louder this time, more insistent.

All the eyes were upon her now, and she could see the doubt starting to fester in her eyes of her own people. Devashree could feel the weight of their eyes on her, the whispers growing louder, louder, as doubt took root in their hearts.  What could she tell them?

"Why don't you tell us the truth instead of lying? Instead of making excuses?  Do you even know what we would do to save him? What I would do?"

Devashree's jaw clenched, but she didn't answer. She couldn't answer. What could she say? She had no cure to show them. No miracle to offer.

"I would cross any mountain, fight any enemy, for him!" the same girl declared "I would sacrifice everything for Dwarkadhish! I would lay down my life without a second thought!"

"I would search the deepest jungles, swim through the most dangerous rivers, if it meant saving Dwarkadhish! No price is too high!"

"I would give up my entire kingdom if it meant I could save him! I would give him my wealth, my title, my family! All for him! Maybe then he will take me as a wife."

"I would offer my own blood to save him, even if it meant my life would be forfeit. I would give everything—EVERYTHING—"

Loud laughter cut off the Princess of Kosala.

"Foolish girl, there is no need to to offer your blood to cure Dwarikadhish. Narayan, Narayan!"

Devashree felt her breath come back to her. "Narad Muni..." She whispered.

Narad muni greeted her with a grin and joined his hands. "Narayan Narayan. I was just passing by when I heard all your great proclamations ladies. Bless you all. Bless you.  Truly, you are most devoted. But there is no need to go to such lengths."

The women looked at each other in confusion.

"Why, you don't really need to do all that," Narad Muni continued, his voice light and teasing. "No need to offer your blood, no need to sell your gold, no need to offer your kingdoms or families." He chuckled, clearly enjoying the reactions of the women around him.

"Then what do we do, Rishivar? Tell us we will do anything."

"Yes, please."

"It's very simple really ladies. First you will have to show me your feet. One by one all of you."

The women looked at each other in confusion, unsure of what Narad Muni was implying. One by one, they reluctantly raised their feet out of their shoes.

"Too clean this one. Not a speck of dirt." he gestured to the first woman, who had carefully lifted her foot, pristine and unmarked.

He moved onto the next one.

"You too, devi. Great."

He moved on to the other women inspecting a few before letting out a huge sigh and shaking his head. "Disappointing, truly disappointing. Okay never mind, but we can still do it. I know you can do this ladies. Take your feet out of your shoes and throw them away. Yes just like that. Now rub your feet hard on the ground. Feel the dirt, the dust coating your feet."

They did what they were told.

"And now you are ready! " Narad muni grinned at all of them.

"Um...what exactly are we supposed to do?" Dayamanti asked him.

"Simple." he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You now have to take your dust-coated feet to Dwarkadhish and touch his forehead with the same."

A pin-drop silence followed his statement and Narad Muni couldn't help but enjoy every second of it! 

*******

A/N

Ending the chapter here because I'm already running way behind on my update. Please don't kill me! I've been completely swamped with a tech fest, and whenever I did get some free time, I found myself on a reading spree, devouring one story after another. Honestly, I sometimes wish there were an extra lifetime just to read all the books I want to dive into. 

Also do tell me if you find any mistakes in this. Its late and I don't have time to proofread it.

Anyway until next time...❤️❤️