Above BGM for Darsayamini

The midday sun hung high above Guru Prana's ashram, casting dappled shadows through the dense canopy of trees. The air was filled with the murmur of students reciting verses and the sharp twang of bowstrings from the archery range.

Ranakrit stood near the ashram's central clearing, his arms crossed as he gazed into the distance. He was waiting. His expression was calm, but his heart carried the weight of the decision he had made for his youngest brother, Agamya.
Two years had passed by quickly since their arrival at the ashram. And now the decision couldn't be delayed much. He knew this decision of his was going to stir quite the ruckus. But Ranakrit wouldn't compromise even at the costs.

The ground beneath his feet began to tremble ever so slightly. A faint vibration grew into a resonant rhythm, the unmistakable sound of hooves striking the earth in perfect unison. The ashram's quiet routine broke as whispers began to spread among the disciples, a royal chariot was approaching.

And then it came into view.

The chariot, crafted from gleaming ebony and adorned with silver and gold filigree, was a sight to behold. Its wheels were inlaid with intricate carvings of celestial symbols, and its canopy shimmered like liquid silk under the sunlight. Pulled by four magnificent brown horses, their manes braided with garlands of jasmine, it seemed less a vehicle and more a vision from ancient tales.

Seated within the chariot was the reigning king of Silachetra, Kaushavas dear Mamashree, Maharaj Sumedh. His presence was as commanding as the chariot itself. Draped in gold and sapphire jewelry, a dhoti of deep indigo, embroidered with golden threads, he bore the air of a ruler whose wisdom matched his power. His piercing eyes held both kindness and authority. A bejeweled sword rested at his side, though it seemed more ceremonial than necessary. His bearing alone was enough to command respect.

Beside him sat a lively figure, contrasting his regal demeanor, his ten-year-old daughter, Rajkumari Darsayamini. Her bright eyes sparkled with curiosity, and her mischievous smile hinted at the trouble she was always ready to stir. Dressed in a simple yet elegant saffron tunic, she swung her legs playfully, entirely unfazed by the grandeur surrounding her.

The chariot came to a halt just outside the ashram gates. Maharaj Sumedh stepped down with practiced ease, his movements as graceful as they were powerful. His boots, lined with soft leather, barely made a sound as they touched the ground. The disciples bowed low in reverence, and even the air seemed to still in acknowledgment of his presence.

"Ranakrit, mere bacce (my son)!"

Mamashree Sumedh said with a smile. His voice, deep and steady, carrying the weight of both affection and authority. He extended his arms, pulling his nephew into a warm embrace.

"It has been so long since I saw you last, my son."

"Mamashree," Ranakrit replied, bowing his head respectfully. "Your presence honors us. I hope your journey was comfortable."

Maharaj Sumedh smiled faintly and placed a hand on Ranakrit's shoulder, a gesture both familial and reassuring.

"The journey matters little when it brings me to one as dutiful as you. Come, let us speak before meeting your Gurudev."

Ranakrit nodded and they were about to take a walk around the courtyard when a voice stopped them.

"Pitashree, can I go to explore the ashram?"

Both men turned to see little Rajkumari Darsayamini, who had already hopped off the chariot and was adjusting the folds of her paridhaya with exaggerated care. She looked up at Maharaj Sumedh with wide, innocent eyes, though her smile betrayed her true intentions.

Maharaj Sumedh chuckled, his stern facade softening.

"Very well, Darsa. But stay within the grounds, and don't cause too much mischief."

"I never cause mischief, Pitashree." she replied, portraying the picture of utter sincerity.

Before her father could respond, she turned to Ranakrit and beamed,

"You must be Jyesth bhrata Ranakrit, Viswa buashrees' son, aren't you?"

"How do you know?" Ranakrit asked with curiosity.

"I do because Pitashree has the same glint of pride and joy in his eyes, that he always holds only when talking about you."

Ranakrit didn't reply back, stood a little awkwardly for a moment. But it didn't linger for long as Darsa dramatically with a flare, folded her hands and bowed.

"Oh, eldest cousin brother of mine, please accept my heartfelt respect for you!"

She said in a sing sung voice with dancing eyebrows and mouth while shaking her head like a puppet. Ranakrit frowned watching her though a small smile unabided tugged at the corners of his lips. Maharaj Sumedh watching his daughter's antics, cleared his throat to grab Ranakrit's attention and told him,

"That's my daughter Darsayamini. And she is learning the art of dance forms recently."

A full smile of amusement appeared on Ranakrit's face hearing him and he nodded before greeting her.

"I'm glad to meet you Darsayamini."

"Please call me Darsa only." Darsa said straightening. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important explorations to do."

Without waiting for a reply, Darsayamini darted off, her small feet kicking up dust as she disappeared into the trees with two maids following her. Her laughter echoed through the air, drawing amused glances from the students and disciples of the ashram. Maharaj Sumedh frowned a little as he watched her retreating back. She reminded him too much of his late sister, Ranakrit's mother, Viswa. And he also saw invisible hearts of young men breaking in the future.
However, he broke his gaze away. Deciding to tackle it when the time arrived.

"She's a whirlwind, that one. Too much like Viswa. She'll have explored every corner of the ashram before we finish our conversation, no doubt."

Maharaj Sumedh shook his head fondly. And then shifted his attention back to his nephew. He stepped back, studying Ranakrit with a thoughtful gaze.

"Ranakrit, your message reached me, and it troubled my heart. Tell me, what weighs so heavily on your mind that you sought my counsel?"

Ranakrit hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He chose his words carefully before starting.

"Mamashree, it concerns my youngest brother, Agamya. He is a gifted archer, more talented than any of us, Kaushavas. But under Guru Prana's tutelage, I fear his potential is being overshadowed. Guru Prana is wise and unmatched, but his attention is divided among many disciples. Agamya deserves more. He deserves a place where his talents will not be overlooked."

Maharaj Sumedh listened intently and then asked,

"You are a good elder brother, Ranakrit. Few would recognize such nuances in their siblings' lives, let alone act upon them. But tell me, what do you wish for Agamya? How can I aid you in this?"

***

As Darsayamini skipped through the ashram's shaded paths, her sharp eyes took in everything-the students practicing their lessons, the birds perched on the tree branches, and the faint scent of blooming flowers carried by the breeze. Her curiosity soon led her to the kitchen area, where the aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering herbs beckoned her like a siren's call.

Standing near the cooking fires was a girl around her age, her hair neatly tied in a braid and her hands busy grinding spices. Darsayamini stopped short, tilting her head.

Darsayamini approached with a bounce in her step, her usual boldness tempered by intrigue.

"Hello!" She called, plopping down beside the girl.

"You work here?" She asked bluntly, her voice startling the girl.

The girl looked up, her almond-shaped eyes widening slightly. She smiled shyly and raised her hand in greeting but didn't speak.

Darsayamini tilted her head.

"Oh, I see. You're one of those quiet types. Well, don't worry, I can talk enough for both of us!"

The girl's smile widened, and she quickly traced a word in the plate of grinded spices with her finger. Darsayamini blinked, then read aloud,

"Pranali. Is that your name?"

Pranali nodded, her smile lighting up her face. Realizing Pranali couldn't speak, Darsayamini's mind raced. Instead of feeling awkward, she clapped her hands.

"That's so interesting! I've never met someone who doesn't talk. You must have so many secrets!"

Pranali giggled silently, her shoulders shaking.

"I'm Darsayamini, princess of Silachetra. But you can call me Darsa. Titles are boring. Besides, we're going to be best friends now. I've already decided."

Pranali looked delighted.
Darsayamini beamed too and said,

"Now, show me the best hiding spots in this ashram. You must know them all."

Pranali hesitated to leave. She looked around at the kitchen to see if all the chores handed to her by her mother were finished or not. Confirming there wasn't much left, then she stood and motioned for Darsayamini to follow. The two girls darted through the ashram's grounds, Pranali leading the way.

As Darsayamini wandered the ashram grounds with Pranali, her curiosity grew with each step. She chattered away, filling the silence while Pranali listened, occasionally gesturing in response.

"You know," Darsayamini said with a sly grin, "This ashram is very peaceful. Too peaceful. I think it's time for some excitement!"

Pranali tilted her head, raising her hands as if to ask what Darsayamini had in mind.

"I'll show you,"

Darsayamini replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Not far ahead, under the shade of a large peepal tree, Dharmesth sat cross-legged, his posture straight as a reed. His eyes were closed, his expression serene, radiating an unshakable calm as he meditated. Nearby, a few of his brothers were lounging, quietly watching him.

Darsayamini's sharp eyes gleamed. She leaned toward Pranali and asked,

"Who's that?"

Pranali made a quick gesture with her hands, miming a tall figure with a straight posture and pointing to her lips to indicate truth.

"The calm and truthful one?"

Darsayamini guessed, piecing it together. She frowned at the figure for a while, but then smiling with mischief said,

"Let's see how calm he really is."

Pranali widened her eyes, shaking her head in warning, but Darsayamini was already bounding forward. Before Pranali could stop her, Darsayamini slipped off one of her sandals, weighing it in her hand like a weapon. With surprising accuracy, she flung it through the air. The sandal arced perfectly and landed on Dharmesth's lap with a dull thud.

Startled, Dharmesth opened his eyes and looked down at the offending footwear. His expression didn't betray anger, but just mild confusion. He picked up the sandal, holding it delicately between his fingers as though it were a sacred object.

Darsayamini stifled a giggle, ducking behind a tree. Pranali tugged at her arm, shaking her head emphatically, but Darsayamini waved her off.

"Who threw this?"

Dharmesth's voice was calm, yet it carried a note of authority that made even the trees seem to stand straighter. The lounging brothers burst into laughter, their voices echoing through the clearing. One of them, Yuyudhana, pointed toward the tree where Darsayamini was hiding.

"Looks like you've gotten a little enemy, bhrata Dharmesth!"

Darsayamini, realizing the game was up, stepped out from behind the tree with her hands on her hips.

"It was me!" she declared proudly, her voice ringing with confidence.

Dharmesth raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady but not unkind.

"And what was the purpose of this... unusual gift?"

"To see if you'd finally lose your temper," Darsayamini said, grinning. "But you're like a stone! You didn't even flinch."

The brothers laughed harder, some doubling over in mirth.

Dharmesth looked at the sandal in his hand, then back at Darsayamini. Slowly, his lips curved into a faint smile. He stood, walked over to her, and handed the sandal back.

"You'll need this if you plan on running around causing more trouble."

Darsayamini took the sandal, her grin widening.

"You're not mad?"

"Anger is for those who lack control over their minds," Dharmesth replied, his tone calm.
"And truth always reveals itself, no matter the distraction."

Pranali, standing beside Darsayamini, clasped her hands in silent apology for her new friend's behavior. Dharmesth nodded at her with understanding.

"You're a good friend, Pranali. Keep an eye on this whirlwind of mischief."

Pranali smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and gestured as if to say, I'll try, but it won't be easy.

Darsayamini laughed, slipping her sandal back on. As Dharmesth returned to his meditation unbothered, the brothers' laughter still echoed behind him. Darsayamini turned to Pranali, her mischievous grin firmly in place.

"Come on, let's find someone else to bother. This ashram needs way more chaos!"

***

Arj kiya hai,

Yeh jeevhan nehi aasan

Aate jate raho,

Yeh jeevhan nehi aasan

Aate jate raho,

Unke khusi ke liye,

Chappal jute khate raho.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣