Thunder echoed in the town, with abrupt flashes of lightning. A young woman named Aishani, aged 25 silently lamented her fate. Forced in an unwanted marriage, only for her husband to die 4 months before her baby was born. And society blamed the unborn child. The child who hadn't even glimpsed the world was already shunned by society. And the child's mom. No matter what the men did, women were always blamed. Did they consider that the husband was a careless man, drinking and gambling. Those could have caused his death. But no, the blame was on Aishani. The man's fate has been terrible since he married that woman. The rumors whispered.

But what about Aishani's own fate? Has her life been good since the marriage? No. She had to live in constant fear that there would be no money, no food, only troubles. And now, after the death. There is always the fear of being robbed, of getting kidnapped. There was no hope in her eyes. Had it been up to her, she would have never married such a despicable man. But it all happened due to her aunt and uncle.

She had been an orphaned child, as both her parents died due to their respective health problems. And she had stayed with her maternal aunt and uncle. However, they were very greedy and avoided payments for a long time, but took large amounts of loans. And one day, when they simply couldn't pay, they auctioned off her. And since then, she had been living a very sorrowful life. A life without rights, a life without respect, a life without love, is that truly any lif at all? Is it a life worth living for? These thoughts echoed her head frequently.

But then, her child was born. The child's cries echoed with the thunder. Her eyes shone like the moon and glittered like stars. Her irises were midnight black, dark and mysterious. She had an ivory complexion, with smooth milky skin. Her face gleamed with the radiance of early dawn. She glowed like the rays of the sun and her hands were as soft as flower petals. She was the light in her mother's darkness. The hope in her mother's eyes. Smiling to herself, she named her child Aishwarya. The reason Aishani wanted to live.

She vowed to shelter her child from the world's cruelty. She promised that Aishwarya wouldn't face the same fate that she had. She would teach her daughter that respect was above all, and to those who disrespect a woman, will only call upon death for themselves. And this would be one of the more core lessons of Aishwarya's life.

And for that, it was first important to leave this place. Here she had no friends, only enemies who disguised themselves as well-wishers. If she stayed here, her child may be harmed. She looked outside. The thunder had stopped. And the rain also ceased. She grabbed a large cloth and put on a couple of clothes, some medicinal leaves, a couple of fruits, and tied it together. Hoisting the now sleeping child on one hand, and the bag in the other, she went outside. Sensing that no one was there, she quietly fled.

She stopped in the forest of Mysari, near the city of Ayodhya. The location was a perfect place to build a hut. They were near a waterfall and surrounded by trees. She first gently laid down Aishwarya on a saree, and went on to build a small hut. Aishani felt at peace knowing that the child was isolated from all troubles, and that they could live peacefully here. She believed that nothing would trouble them here.

She ran from the troubles that haunted her. She wanted her daughter to live in a place that provided solace. She wanted to shelter her daughter from everything. She wouldn't allow a thorn to remain in Aishwarya's leg for too long, and comforted Aishwarya. Maybe in an alternate reality, she wouldn't have the freedom. But now, Aishwarya's entire childhood was in her grasp, and she could do whatever she wanted.

7 years have passed in this seemingly perfect life. It was not much, but it was where they found peace within. The cool breeze that drifted in the morning was as luxurious to them as silk. The trickling sound of water flowing down the stream was as soothing to their ears as a melodious song. They may only eat fruits on some days, but fruits fed from a mother's hand were as delicious as a feast. To Aishwarya, she knew no one, except her mother, and hence her mother was everything for her.

Ah the mother and daughter lived in a peaceful bliss of togetherness. The calmness of the forest was their life. And every night, Aishani would tell Aishwarya tales of life, legends of the gods and their acts to establish the righteousness. She narrated to her about the epic Ramayana, and about Mahadev and Narayana. She told her about Devi Adi Shakti. And about all the deities that lived above.

She told tales of nagas and asparas. Aishwarya always liked hearing about these epic tales. To her, it was another better reality of life. She always found a sense of hope in these stories, and asked her mom, "Amma, will I also be a part of these legends?" Aishani smiled, letting her child enjoy the impossible. She knew that this would be extremely unlikely. After all, they knew no one and no one knew them. And why would anyone bother knowing them, when there were millions like them."We'll see putri, you may create your own legend. But we can do that tomorrow. Sleep now." She said, draping a cloth over the child to protect her from the cold.

"No my child, we are simply ordinary humans. We will be forgotten with our death." she muttered quietly.

Oh, how wrong she was. Little did she know that Aishwarya would play a part in the greatest event of Dwapar Yug.

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!ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ!

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