"Anybody there? Please respond! I'm dying in thirst."

No reply came. An exhausted Govasana sank on the ground. Sun God had already gone down the horizon. Darkness began to pull the surroundings to a tight embrace. The King of Shivi had lost the way. He did not even know which place this was.

Strong smell of corpses came to his nose. Govasana cringed. Was there any crematory closeby? Then it would be even more impossible to find any help here. Especially at this time.

Then what would he do now? He looked around helplessly. A faint light fell on his eyes. Govasana's face lit up. It seemed like fire was burning on a pyre. Would there be anyone around?

He managed to rise to his feet, and stepped ahead, following the light. But as soon as he reached there, the fire wiped off from his vision. But he could still see. An unusual aura surrounded him. Like some divine glow.

The fire had been put off. Black, curly layers of ashes were moving upwards. The strange, heavenly light covered that stream of ashes like a halo around God's head.

Soon, those layers of ashes took the form of a young, beautiful maiden. Her hair open, her eyes beaming with compassion. She came down to Govasana, holding a pitcher in her hand.

"Who are you, Putri?" Govasana forgot to blink.

"I reside here only, Maharaj." The girl smiled. "Heard that you are asking for water. So I came."

Such a beautiful girl lived here, in this crematory? The Lord of Shivi wondered. But out of fatigue he could not think anymore. The girl made him drink the water from her pitcher. Govasana sensed that all his tiredness had been vanished as if by some magic.

"You must have been hungry too." She smiled again, her large eyes shone in light of kindness.

"Come, have some food first and take a little rest." She said and led Govasana to a small hut at a distance from the pyres.

The King of Shivi did not object when he was served with a simple yet tasty meal. The young maiden took care of Govasana with utmost respect, ensuring his comfort.

Just like a daughter would do to her father!

"You go in this way, my king!" The girl pointed to the west. "The path leading to Shivi starts after this cremation ground ends."

"Putri, you have done a huge favour! I would like to give you whatever you wish for! Come with me!"

She smiled again. "As you wish, Maharaj! I shall come to you soon. Then you can give me whatever you want."

A surge of ashes flew. When it had passed, the girl could not be seen anymore.

Who was she? Govasana could not understand anything.

***

Yama loka

"Now it's time, my Lord!" Devi Shyamala mused, smiling at her husband. "I have to go."

"Don't make me wait long, Devi!" Dharma Deva softly uttered, holding her arm.

The Goddess of death fondly grinned at his sweet pleading. "Can I ever live without you, Swami?" She placed her palm gently on his. "We shall meet soon!" She assured, and the next moment her loving gaze fell on earth. Dharma followed her eyelids. He knew what she was looking at.

It was Shatasringa Parvata, where the incarnation of Dharma, still a boy, was listening to the Rishis with rapt attention.

"I wonder," Shyamala mused, "how long it would take this little you to know about me."

"I will know it the very moment when your feet will land on the earth." Dharma said. "Can I ever be unaware of births and deaths of mortals, Priye?"

A mischief played on Shyamala's large eyes. ,"But I'm not a mortal, Swami!"

The God of death laughed. "Your human form will be, my love! And even if you hide your arrival from me..." He paused seeing his beloved wife pout, making him even more amused. "Because I know you can do that, with your own Maya which forms even my power. But know that even then your Dharma won't fail to sense your arrival in his heart!"

Shyamala shook her head fondly, resting her head on his chest. "I'm not going to play hide and seek with you there, Natha. I will be waiting for you!"

Dharma brushed her long, open hair that resembled Kalaratri, and was the very Shakti of Kaala, the death himself.

"King Govasana awaits you, Devi." He said, looking down at earth.

Shyamala nodded, and closed her eyes in meditation. Her identical form emerged from her heart and bowed to Dharma. She went to earth and entered the womb of Govasana's wife, the Queen of Shivi.

***

Shivi, Chaitra Shukla Chaturthi

Govasana waited for his childbirth with a tensed heart. Several questions were passing through his mind.

He could never forget that day. That divine aura in a crematory. That beautiful girl offering water within the corpses and burning pyres. Govasana had thought a lot about it. He was sure that she was not an ordinary girl. She could not be. The royal priest of Shivi had also agreed with him.

"What has happened to you doesn't seem normal, Maharaj." The Rajapurohit had said. "Losing your way suddenly in a crematory, a girl emerging from funeral pyre and showing you way -- this has to be a divine Maya. If I'm not wrong, Devi Shyamala herself has come to you!"

Devi Shyamala! The Goddess of death and funeral pyre! Govasana's jaw dropped. But his priest had assured him. The way she had served the king had spoken for her grace on him and Shivi. This did not seem to be ominous.

Still, Govasana was worried. Just after that incident, his Queen had become pregnant. He was fearing that something bad would happen to her and their child, given that a sight of the God couple of death or their companions was not considered auspicious. After all, who doesn't fear death?

Baby's cry came from the labour room, shattering his thoughts.

"Hail the King of Shivi! It's a girl!" Exclaimed the midwife.

Girl!

"Is everything fine, Dhatri?" The King asked in bated breath.

"Totally. Both Maharani and the little Princess are well. The labour room is illuminated with a strange divine light. We all are surprised to see this, Maharaj."

Govasana could not speak for a while.

"I shall come to you, Maharaj!" The melodious voice rang in his ear. Was it then...

Govasana rushed to the labour room, ignoring the protocols. The midwife was right. An unearthly light had covered the entire room even in this midnight. He saw his newborn baby, smiling within that light. All the worries disappeared at the very moment he saw his newborn.

Devi Shyamala is not just Goddess of death. She is the Goddess of Dharma too! She is the provider and protector of goodness! Why couldn't Govasana remember this earlier? His eyes filled up staring at the tiny lovely face. Those little eyes looked at him only, her tiny red lips curved into a playful smile.

Wrong I was! O divine consort of Lord Yama! You have blessed me! Fool I was to fear it as something inauspicious!

The King of Shivi bowed to the Goddess within his mind. When he opened his eyes, the baby smiled more.

The royal priest had entered in, only to find that his King had already taken the little Princess in his arms, and was unable to tear away his loving gaze from her face.

"Maharaj!" The priest called out.

"See, Aacharya! Doesn't she look like a Goddess herself?" Govasana mused, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

"A Goddess indeed!" Nodded the priest. "A little one!"

"Correct! Little Goddess! My little Devi!" The King beamed. "Devika! My Devika!"

Conchs played as soon as he finished.

"Hail Princess Devika!" The maids cried. While the entire palace of Shivi was drowned into bliss, the newborn turned her little head to the north-east. To Shatasringa Parvata. Moonlight carried her loving smile to a ten-year old calm boy, who was the eldest Kuru Prince.

"I have come, Natha!"

Yama priyaa swarupinim Shyamala Dharma dayinim
Namami Govasana sutaam Yudhishthira sanginim

[I bow to Devi Shyamala, the beloved of Lord Yama, the provider of Dharma. I bow to the daughter of Govasana, the consort of Yudhishthira.]
_________________________________________

Author's note: Devika being Devi Shyamala is found in Garuda Purana, as discovered by PandavaPriyaa and PadmaVaasati Both of them had books on Devika, portraying her divine aspect. Though I have never read the books and they are unpublished now, I give them credit for publishing first if something accidentally matches with my narrative. As per my honest knowledge, the present story is imagined and created by me.