𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

glimpse

She sat huddled on the cold, unforgiving floor, her body buried under a pile of rags. Her hair was disheveled, tangled knots framing her pale face. Her clothes were torn, stained with blood and dirt, a testament to the brutality she had endured. Her hands, bound by rough ropes, hung limply by her sides.

In front of her stood the people she had once called family, their faces twisted in cruel smiles. Her adoptive mother, a woman who was supposed to nurture and protect her, sneered with contempt. "Tch tch tch, what happened, beta? Dard ho rha h? Don't worry, yeh toh kuch nhi h, ab jo hoga woh shyaad isse bhi dardnak hoga." ("Tsk tsk tsk, what happened, child? Does it hurt? Don't worry, this is nothing. What's coming next might be even more painful.")

Her adoptive father stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a false sweetness. "Tumhe humari baat ko man lena chahiye tha beta, agar uss din shaadi se nhi bhagti toh shyaad aaj yeh dekhna nhi padta." ("You should have listened to us, child. If you hadn't run away from that marriage, you wouldn't be in this situation today.")

The words cut deep, and she felt a wave of despair wash over her. "Leave me," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

The people in front of her laughed, a cold, mirthless sound that sent shivers down her spine. As they turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of the sky through the window, a sliver of blue that seemed to hold her last hope.

"Krishna ji, madad kariye meri," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the sky, as if waiting for a miracle to happen. ("Lord Krishna, help me.")

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The door creaked open, and she froze, her heart racing with fear. "Please leave me," she begged, her voice trembling.

The sound of footsteps rushing towards her made her struggle to free herself, but she was engulfed in a tight embrace, making her startled. "Nooo, don't touch me," she stammered, trying to wiggle out of the grasp.

But then, a soothing voice whispered in her ear, "Shhhh, I'm here." The words were like a balm to her soul, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Her hands, still bound by rough ropes, were gently untied, and she felt a surge of gratitude.

Without thinking twice, she hugged him tightly, bursting into sobs. "Shhhh, prati, I'm here. No one will harm you," he tried to calm her down, but she refused to let him go, clinging to him as if he was her lifeline.

As he looked at her state, his heart ached with pain. She was the happy soul, full of life and laughter, and seeing her in this condition was like several needles piercing into his heart. She was shivering, and he quickly covered her with his coat, scooping her up in his arms.

"Don't worry, from now on, you're my responsibility. I'll never let anyone harm you," he said, his voice filled with determination. As he looked at her, a verse from the Bhagavad Gita echoed in his mind: "You have control over your actions, but not over the consequences. Let go of the outcome, and focus on protecting her."

With a resolute expression, he left the room, cradling her fragile form in his arms. As he walked, her unconscious form leaned into his chest, and he felt a sense of purpose wash over him. He would protect her, no matter what it took.