Weight of Motherhood

Last day of Navratri

The air was electric with anticipation as the final day of Navratri, the nine-night festival, was upon them. The energy in the village was palpable, the anticipation of the goddess's blessings a tangible force.

The distant sound of drums and chanting grew louder as he approached the grandiose temple dedicated to Goddess Lakshmi.

Colorful lights danced on the arched entrance, and the cobblestone path leading to the holy site was adorned with intricate rangoli patterns. Shyam felt a peculiar mix of excitement and unease, unsure of the role he was about to play in the sacred ritual.

When Sumitra, emerged with a grace that seemed to defy the weight of the situation. Her eyes met his briefly, and in that moment, Shyam understood the gravity of their shared fate. The crowd parted as they approached, their whispers of "Rani Sumitra ki jaya, Raja Govardhan ki jay" echoing through the night. Shyam's ears burned with the silence where his name should have been.

Inside the temple, the priest, a man with stern countenance and piercing eyes, awaited them. The heavy scent of incense filled the air, mixing with the fragrance of fresh marigold garlands that adorned the deity. Govardhan's gaze was fixed on the priest, hope and desperation fighting for dominance in his eyes.

Sumitra took her place beside him, her hand trembling slightly. Shyam followed, feeling the weight of their expectations upon his shoulders. They were instructed to sit together, a trio bound by fate and superstition.

The priest began the puja, his sonorous voice recounting the tales of Lakshmi's benevolence and power. Shyam watched as Sumitra's eyes closed in silent prayer, her lips moving with the sacred mantras. He tried to do the same to avoid ruining the puja by his stupidity.

The priest instructed Govardhan to start arti, and Shyam & Sumitra were to put their hands on govardhan's as symbolism of being one connected soul.

Shyam felt like an imposter, a mere pawn in a divine chess game that was far beyond his understanding. Yet, as the ceremony progressed, the rhythmic chanting and the warmth of the candlelight began to weave a tranquil cocoon around him.

As the final moments of the puja approached, the priest announced the climax of the ritual. Priest brought puja thali to Govardhan and instucted him to place vermilion on His wives forhead, Govardhan's hand went towards sumitra and sumitra accepted it like a boon from Godess lakshmi herself.

"I.... I am really sorry for what I did yesterday"
When Govardhan turned to Shyam he could not look in the eyes of his second wife burdened by guilt and shame of his mistreatment yesterday.

Shyam stiffened, the apology resonating through the tension that had settled between them. He couldn't forgive the man who had tried to force him into a life he hadn't chosen and then tried to have his way with him.

Raja's desperation was palpable, his voice cracking with the weight of his plea. "Shyam, I swear on this holy night, I will never touch you again. I will never drink." The promise of redemption hung in the air, thick with the scent of sandalwood and the hope of a new beginning.

Shyam remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the goddess's serene countenance. The words stung, a painful reminder of the bruises that still marred his body. Yet, deep down, he knew that the king's desperation was genuine.

The fate of their village, of their people, rested on the whims of a superstition that had ensnared them all. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool stone of the floor beneath him, and slowly turned to face Govardhan.

The struggle in Govardhan's gaze was undeniable, a silent plea for understanding. Despite the anger that still simmered within him, Shyam felt a flicker of compassion.

"I cannot forgive you," he said, his voice firm yet devoid of malice. "But for the sake of your people, for the sake of Sumitra, I will honor the priest's words."
Govardhan finally put vermillion on shyam forehead.

The priest's chanting grew louder, reaching a crescendo as he invoked the goddess's blessings upon the couple/triple.

Govardhan's shoulders relaxed, his eyes brimming with gratitude. Shyam looked away, his heart heavy with the burden of their agreement.

Stepping out of the sacred sanctum, Shyam and Sumitra emerged into the balmy night, the pallu of their saris fluttering in the breeze.

The villagers had gathered in the courtyard, their eyes gleaming with excitement and hope. The priest announced to the assembly that the curse had been lifted, that the childless couple would soon be blessed with a child thanks to the grace of Goddess Lakshmi.

Shyam felt the fabric of his new sari brush against his skin, the unfamiliar weight of the jewelry and the heels a stark reminder of the role he had been thrust into. His heart raced as the villagers erupted into a cacophony of cheers and congratulations, calling out to their new queen.

Govardhan, his arm draped around both his wives, beamed at the adoring crowd.

"My people!, The new queen who some of you knew as Shyam, the village postmaster a few weeks ago will go by the name of Rani Soumya vati the queen of Nandgram!" The priest announced and the crowd started roaring with chants " Rani Soumya vati ki jay!n rani Soumyavati ki jay" The crowd grew thicker around them, their eyes alight with joy and adoration.

Shyam's own anxiety was palpable, his thoughts racing faster than the soft tinkle of the anklet that now adorned his foot.

Just as they were about to begin the procession back to the palace, the familiar chime of a cell phone pierced the air.

Govardhan and Sumitra continued to greet their subjects, but Shyam's eyes darted to the device in his hand. The name on the screen sent a jolt through him, a reminder of a life he had left behind.

It was Priya, his fiancée, calling from the city, oblivious to the tumultuous turn his life had taken.

He swallowed hard, his thumb hovering over the answer button. How could he explain this to her? How could he justify the lie he was living? Yet, the phone remained silent in his hand, a silent sentinel to the world he had lost.