Radha had never felt this anxious. Whether it was a sin or not to go to the Goddess with such a restless mind, she didn't know. But she hoped Maa Parvati would understand the state of her heart, for the goddess herself had experienced the agony of love through innumerable births.

Radha, just like Sati, was ready to wait for eons to perfect herself in order to sit beside Krishna as his deserved beloved. She knew it had to be earned. She had given her all to the simple blue boy, but done nothing worthy enough to claim a king.

But he can claim me, can he not? Everything that he wants is within his reach. What he desires, he gets.

Radha's flushed face, as scarlet as hibiscus, smiled at the balmy thoughts. Sometimes there was a pleasure in being under someone, in submission and to be dictated by them.

All around the temple and everywhere in the kingdom soldiers of her brother Rukmi stood as guards. Like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves they kept an eye on her, the lovely doe of a magical forest. She gulped nervously and climbed the stairs of the temple, calling upon Shiva and Shakti each moment. Handing the essentials of the worship to the priest, she joined her hands in a prayer. Everytime she was in front of the sindur adorned idol of Parvati sitting on the lap of her Chandrasekhara, Radha forgot all her wishes. Till the steps of the temple, she knew in detail what she wanted to ask from the divine couple, and yet when standing in front of the eternal symbol of love and loyalty, her mind would be so inebriated that she would remember nothing. Today was no different, but somehow, the names of Shiva and Shakti transformed into a word of two syllables– Kanha. She took his name like her life depended on it.

Now, Radha didn't want to step out of the temple. She had heard the fairytale love of Sati and believed in the miracle of happily ever afters, but she had missed one particular detail– the wait the lovers had to accept in order to immortalise their love. Maybe every lover dared to overlook that pain, but few had the courage to go through the trails and tribulations. Radha wanted to believe that Krishna would come. Time was slipping like sand from her glassy grip. Eyes covered in a sheen of tears refused to see the world, smudging all silhouettes into messy colours. Will Krishna not come? Maybe he won't.

Her servants looked at her, waiting for her to turn and leave the temple. The puja was long over. Finally, Radha dragged her feet, as heavy as iron, and forced her soul out of the abode of God.

Outside, silence reigned like in the eve of a storm. Radha was on the verge of tears. She could break down then and there. Alas, a princess didn't have so much luxury. Krishna wouldn't come to wipe her tears.

She wanted to curse herself. She had wanted him to forget her and now when he was walking on his designated path, she tried to pull him back from his righteous goals. She was being no less devilish than all the monsters that once wanted to put an end to his life.

The breeze pushed her from behind and she took the first step towards her palace, when a wild blow of dust came and blinded everyone. The sky thundered. Radha veiled her eyes with her hands. "It's a raging tempest!" she shouted, alerting her companions.

"It is."

The answer was booming loud, spoken by a husky voice whose depth she knew the best. Guards, like toys made of sticks fell on the road at the face of the gale that preceded the flaxen chariot coming towards them. Riding it was a boy dipped in the rains of the azure and embellished in gold. His skin was glowing like lapis lazuli and his eyes, like two fiery beads of blazing copper, screamed a battlecry. Yet when his chariot came and halted in front of Radha, those same eyes softened to a feathery shimmer. He smiled at her, a mischievous curve of crimson lips that could arouse her on spot.

"You... you came?" came the surprised, timid yet crystal clear question from Radha.

"The world is like a magical theatre where fairytales and realities intertwine," he said. "I vowed to make our life complete. This is just a little step, the begining of a new play. I am as true as the blood running in your veins, Radha. Know that romance like Shiva and Sati's is possible. This is reality." He scanned the crowd. "I came to take what is rightfully mine in this story, in this birth, and if I challenge Time, then for every birth."

He swept up Radha like the wind carrying a fluffy cloud of autumn and made her sit on the chariot. Radha's female attendants were extremely worried and perplexed by the rosy blush on their mistress' face. "Who is he?" they asked.

Radha held his hand and warmed her cheeks. "Mathuraraaj," she declared with pride.

"No, Radha. I am Krishna. Call me your Krishna."

"So be it. Krishna owns my heart."

"Abductor! He is kidnapping our princess!" a guard howled. "Inform Prince Rukmi or else he is going to behead us!"

Krishna smirked. "I have come this far and will not lose. But for one last time, Radha, I have to ask you something."

"Say."

"Will you be my wife?"

Radha swore she would faint. Time stopped. She could see the stars in broad daylight. Ah, all the delectable symptoms of love! "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Then fear not. No other man will lay his eyes on you."

The chariot raced for Mathura.

****E N D****