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Gauri, a young village girl holding firm views about morals a...
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The benevolent King tried his best to persuade the resilient saint to wear the cushioned footwear, unable to bear the sight of his bruised feet littered with multiple cuts and blisters. Brought up in noble luxury, whenever he saw someone lacking, he tried his best to provide for them. Sadly, the saint of Nilgiri refused the courteousness of the King. Being a recluse, a free-spirited wanderer and a devotee, he had withdrawn from the relaxations of the mortal world a long time ago.
So, ignoring the concerns of Rajyavardhan Rana, Narayan Das Shankara strolls around the historical structure barefoot, examining the age-old paradox standing on the blood and sweat of mighty warriors who sacrificed their lives for the motherland. The creation was beautiful. Proof left by renowned artisans who became immortal through their polished skills.
As he promenaded, the king and his subordinates followed behind. They remained quiet, fearful of disturbing the resonance between the surroundings and the saint.
Narayan's lips were moving silently, chanting mantras with each bead of rosemary between his fingers.
He first checked, Rajwada Palace, then Chitrakoot, followed by Aryavarte and Mayur. All were fine, standing still to accommodate all living and positive walking on the surface of the planet.
The moment Chandra Mahal came into view, the surge of energy that he usually feels from ground to sky, fluctuated. The network of nerve impulses and ions in his body detected disturbance, sending a thrill deep in his bones. The outward glamour of Chandra Mahal fooled the eyes of atheists, posing as the radiant assemblage of imperialism and blissful tranquillity. But the closer you get, you see the ugliness seeping into the cracks and pores engrained in hindsight so the marble can breathe. The royal abode was pulsing with energy so heinous that the saint had to take a step back and alleviate his gut. A polluted stench played with his nostrils.
It was a hub of dark magic where the flow of energy went from ground to underground. The intensity was so harsh that whoever stayed inside would surely start feeling exhausted to the bones after spending only a few hours. The grounds here were draining, or sucking the life force at a rapid pace, rendering people clueless about what they are registering or doing.
Perspiration accumulated on Rajyavardhan's forehead noticing how the Sanit had come standstill in front of the very doors beyond which his family lives. He prayed in his heart for their safety. The folk songs sung by females could be still heard. The baby shower was going with full force and wouldn't be concluding anytime soon.
He contemplated if it was the right moment to let the saint enter as the area was flooded by respectable females. They will surely question the motive behind a Godman's presence.
"What is happening in there, Your Majesty?" the saint enquires and Rajyavardhan clears his throat.
"My older daughter-in-law's baby shower was held today, Guruji. All the females from society have arrived to bless her."
