some many thousands of years later, in Dvaraka Dhama

Everything was perfect.

The highest heaven glittered in transcendence in the absence of doubt and joy in the absence of sorrow. The bird-calls were sweeter than honey; the grass danced viridian; the trees stood weighted with the plentiful bounty of fruits sweeter than the sweetest mango upon BhuLoka. Gems glittered in the eternal radiance of Vaikuntha, scattered freely upon the ever-fertile ground yet its residents paid them as much regard as one would a flower.

In the distance, the spires of the palaces rose and the sound of the sea was never far off, no matter how far one travelled from the shore.

A figure could be seen hidden in the forests beyond the city. Dressed in a rich red, adorned with precious jewels of value far beyond anything on BhuLoka, the woman occasionally ran her hand over a peacock's head.

Lilavati sat upon the unfading grass, her face upturned towards the radiant light that lit up the whole of Vaikuntha. A serene smile softened her beige complexion.

Iltani had just left her, having spent some time with her, pressing a kiss to her brow and leaving.

"Om Namo Narayanaya," she murmured, feeling the syllables resound through her body and the air around her. She had attained Vaikuntha, after a long and hard journey, but murmuring the chant was second nature to her.

And suddenly he was there.

Kanha wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head on her back and inhaling deeply the scent of jasmine in her hair. She blinked back tears at his overly familiar motion. Lilavati had been home a long time, yet every moment with her beloved was novel.

"Vallabhaa," he whispered.

"Hridayaesha," she returned, leaning into his touch. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, or however long passed, for time was indeterminable in this eternal place.

"You do know you're already here where you've always desired to be, Priyatamaa; why do you still call me as though I'm not here?"

She shifted to look at him, eye to eye, and brushed her fingers over his cheek. 

"It is merely habit, Kanha."

His cheeks coloured faintly, as he grasped her other hand and brought it to his lips, all the while never breaking eye contact with her. 

She blushed.

'Still blushing like a newly-wed bride, Lilu?' It was Nagnajiti Jiji, golden filling her peripheral vision through their bond.

'Jiji, you know how much of a tease Kanha is!' she exclaimed, all while Kanha smirked at her.

A joyous giggle. 'That I cannot fault. Well, if you two lovebirds are done enjoying your solitude, I must warn you of incoming.'

'Aw,' grumbled Kanha, 'I just came here! Can I not enjoy precious time with my beloved alone?'

'Oh, we know what you two would end up doing if we left you alone for longer than five minutes,' teased Satyaa.

Lilavati's cheeks burned. 'Jiji!' She wished desperately for some escape.

And certainly not too late, for two tiny figures came barreling into the clearing.

"Maiyya!"

Lilavati blinked and watched her children run to them through fluttering eyelashes.

Hand in hand the twins ran. They were a striking contrast to each other. Iddha dressed in a soft orange to counter his dark complexion, his sleek hair tumbling down his shoulder paired with a single bun at the very top of his head; Tapadyuti, true to her name, with her sun-like complexion, wearing a deep blue dress and her unruly curls bouncing—some stubborn strands had escaped her braid, noted Lilavati with a little exasperation—as she ran towards them. 

"Pita! Maiyya!"

Lilavati caught her son, pressing kisses to his cheek as he squealed. Kanha scooped up Tapadyuti as she giggled in his arms.

"How does my royal highness do today?"

"I am doing very well, Pitashri! Me and Iddha spent lots of time with Pitamahi Yashoda and Maatrsh-Maatris—"

"Maatrishvasa, Dyu," corrected Iddha, snuggling into Lilavati's arms.

"Fiiiine, Dhu!" grumbled Tapadyuti before she continued to regale her parents with tales of their adventures that day.

Lilavati watched her children and husband interact. Sometimes she could not yet believe her life was this. She had gone through a long journey to reach this point. And she would not give up this life for anything in the universe.

She pressed a kiss to Iddha's hair, her eyes misting.

Kanha caught her thoughts and then looked to her, and leaned in even as Tapadyuti babbled on, and kissed her.

She let herself lose in the moment.

Her children in her arms when they were once the imagination of a sinner, her husband beside her, and her elder sister somewhere in the city beyond, in the highest heavens: she could want for nothing more.

Everything was perfect.

Well, mostly.

"Iddha! Tapadyuti!"

How they had managed to hide the maakhan this long, she would never know. The both of them ran away, holding hands and giggling filling the clearing; Kanha sitting stunned with maakhan smeared on his face before bursting out into raucous laughter.

"Am I the only sane one here?" she demanded, gathering her saari to chase behind her unruly children.

Kanha laughed even more as her exasperated calls of her children's names proved unfruitful as they shrieked and split up.

"Kanha! Get over here and help me! Iddha, Tapadyuti, you are not getting dessert tonight!"

He fell over laughing.