In an extraordinary twist of fate, the soul of a modern-day young woman named Aarna finds itself inexplicably swapped with that of a princess from the 9th century, wedded to none other than the formidable Rajadhiraja Yashwardhan Rao. Yashwardhan fal...
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I entered the kung fu arena, where I sparred fiercely with my opponent, moving with agility and precision. As I lunged towards her, I executed a swift maneuver, aiming at the juncture where her neck met her shoulder, yet refrained from making contact.
"Very good, Aarna!" hailed my kung fu coach, praising my technique. The bout concluded with laughter echoing through the dojo, both my opponent and I sharing a light moment amidst our spirited exchange.
"No one can beat you, Aarna," my opponent remarked, showering me with praise. Proud of my performance, I indulged in a dramatic hair flip, despite my hair being secured in a bun. "What can I say?" I chuckled, reveling in the triumphant moment.
Stepping forward, our coach expressed his admiration "both of you are amazing but Aarna is a little too good". Blushing at the unexpected compliment, I felt a surge of shyness envelop me. "You're saying 'little' and 'too,' Coach? How does that even work?" my friend teased, prompting a collective round of laughter.
With the coach signaling the end of our training, we bid our respects with a bow, gathering our belongings as we exited the kung fu academy. A suggestion to dine at a nearby restaurant emerged among my friends, but my exhaustion overruled any immediate social plans.
"No, I'm too drained. I'll head home," I declined, much to their disappointment. It was true; the fatigue was palpable. Juggling college and kung fu classes was an arduous task, yet the invigorating workout always managed to rejuvenate my body, the sweat and exertion acting as a soothing balm.
Despite the strain, the satisfaction after a rigorous kung fu session was unmatched, leaving me feeling revitalized and fulfilled.
"*°•.˜"*°• ~~~🪞~~~ •°*"˜.•°*"
I bounded into the house, announcing my return with enthusiasm, plopping onto the sofa in sheer delight. "Mumma!!! I am back!!" I cheered.
"You're 18 years old now!! Stop behaving like a child, Aarna," my mom chided, as she often did. She was always bossing around, always instructing. What can I say? It's practically her second nature.
"Okay, mom," I relented, sighing in response.
"Yeah, yeah, you won't understand it now whe-," she started, heading back into the kitchen, and I playfully completed her sentence, "...when you'll be a mother one day. You will know how hard it is to be a parent, but no! No one listens to me," I laughed alongside my dad.
"Why are you guys laughing?" my mom inquired, and we burst into laughter, unable to contain ourselves.
Glancing at my dad, I noticed him engrossed in some aged papers at his desk, looking worn and weathered. My curiosity piqued when I spotted an ancient scroll among his belongings. Its color had faded, and it was fraying at the edges. I opened it and found a potrait. I was unable to see her face because it looked so ancient but it was understandable that it was a woman.
