Royal with Rebel (Royal #2: Book 2)

40

belated happy republic day ♥️

-• faith •-

Sara Rajawat-Chauhan

I'm not supposed to be at the office until Diwali ends. I don't know what Yuvraaj said to Mrs. Krishnamurthy on the phone during their conversation regarding the interview, but later that day I received an e-mail confirming my two week long leave. I protested against the idea. I didn't want to be locked up in the bedroom alone with my thoughts. I wanted to bury my head at work and not take it out until I'm dehydrated or starving. But he didn't agree, stating my body needs deep rest, and that's what the doctor has advised too. I pulled the sexism card. My ultimate weapon. It grated on his nerves, but apparently not enough to reverse his decision. So we settled on working from home until my leave ended.

Tomorrow is Laxmi Puja, what you typically call the "Main Diwali". I'm not festive minded, I don't go all out during the time of festivals, up until now, I never even prayed. But things change. I did too. And this change is something that has embraced me with warmth. It's not abrupt. It's not forced upon me. As if it was always there, waiting patiently for me to accept it. And when I did, it only healed me.

"Faith is very powerful, Sara."

It indeed is, Di. It indeed is.

My sister used to think, you, as a mortal, can only have two kinds of relationship with the God. Of faith or of fear. I believed he existed, I just didn't believe he had any power, like his devotees constantly preached about. Because where was He when they ripped apart my Di to shreds, set her on fire, laughed at her corpse? If he really loved us as the world believes, why didn't he step in there, stop those monsters from ruining His loved one? Why didn't He come then? What stopped him? If he's so powerful, can He not fight against someone's destiny? And if he cannot, why was my sister destined to a horrible end to begin with?

And I still have those questions. My restored faith in Him will never stop me from questioning Him, questioning His power, His love for us. Maybe that's the kind of relationship we're going to have.

Of pained curiousity.

If not her, why me? And if me, why not her? She was your greatest devotee. I needed a miracle to believe in you. She did so blindly.

"Do you not like the invites?"

I look up from the cards towards my husband getting ready in front of the dressing table mirror.

My husband.

I weirdly like the sound of it. The implication of it. The reality of it.

As if I finally belong somewhere, as if someone finally belongs to me.

"Hey, love," he waves a hand in front of me. I blink back to reality and raise a brow sheepishly, not having caught his question. "I asked if you like the invites or not. You keep staring at them. We can change them if you want."

"No, they're perfect," I nod at him with a smile. "I was just thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Voice quiet, I say, "I want to believe He saved me that night, but then a certain question keeps popping up,"

He stirs closer to sit next to me. "What stopped him from saving your Di?"

I hum.

"Maybe he made a mistake?" He wonders softly.

I chuckle, amused. Eons have been spent by people screaming on top of their lungs how God is perfect in every way. "Mistake? Isn't He supposed to be perfect?"