|| Never Without You || [ The Tale Of Arjun-Draupadi ] (I)

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝟽

Outskirts of Kaampilya, Paanchaal

"This should be enough," Bheem muttered, lifting a huge lump of clay in a vessel and placing it on the side of his shoulder. "Seems like so." Arjun carried a huge jar full of the mud and thumped it inside the car, stacking the rest of the vessels one by one. 

The Sun was ablaze in the afternoon, the soothing waves of the river adding to the sweet melody of the winds that rustled through the trees. 

Arjun walked over towards the clear waters, bending down to wash away the mud. He cupped his hands, drinking the cool, refreshing water, feeling it quench his thirst. 

There was an undeniable sweetness even in the waters, perhaps, due to the aura of Lord Shiv. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the taste linger on his tongue, a subtle reminder of the divine presence he had been feeling ever since he was here. The sacredness of the place seemed to infuse the very air, making every breath a spiritual encounter.

There was something here. Something that was lingering in the air, a soulful thread that was drawing him in.

"Bhrata Bheem?" Arjun couldn't help but utter, "Now, now that we have come this far, don't you think we should leave after visiting the temple?" 

"Stole my words, brother." Bheem gave him a light tipped smile, "My mind feels fuddled after all....perhaps we could find some peace there." He mumbled running his fingers through his hairs, staring at the fluttering red flag at the tip of the temple.

.

.

.

The Shiv Lingam was studded in full glory, smothered with milk and holy water. Bel leaves were piled up and Dhatura fruits were like a crown over the Lord.

Shiv was there, and so was his devotee. 

A small smile crept over Arjun's lips as he upturned the little copper pot, emptying the holy water over his Lord,  halcyon aura engulfing his tremor. For a moment he felt as if he could detach from all the worldly chaos, but the world would never from him.

But he had miles to go before he slept.

Glistening water cascaded down the hard idol, his fingers trailing down over it. There was something, something he felt that moment. A soulful thread that wanted to draw him close, wound him close to someone. A string tied for eternities, which neither had an end nor the beginning.

"Destiny is written by you Lord, and shall you lead me," Arjun inhaled deeply, folding his palms. But He never spoke, only to glisten with an unspoken promise that could only be felt. For one last time, he knelt down on the marble floor, moistening his forehead with the amalgamation of the milky waters,

"Lead me, please..."

He stood up, sparing a glance at his Lord for one last time, and walked down the stairs. The guards of Paanchaal had already started gearing up at the entrance, siding the other visitors to one side, "Make way this side!"

"Please, please come from the side!"

Arjun could see the palanquins and horses from afar, halted. His brows furrowed in alert, his gaze darting around for Bheem instantly, as he swiftly climbed down the last stairs of the temple.

But he was no where to be seen.

He bit on the corner of his lips in perplex, when his gaze fleeted across towards the entrance of the temple, and he had to widen his eyes, holding his breath momentarily. Oh God...it was Satyajit!