BAAZI ISHQ KI

CHAPTER-I

In front of the Devi Ma’s idol, a young girl sat with her hands joined, eyes closed in prayer. Her long lashes brushed against her cheeks as if they too were offering a silent reverence. The wind played with her flowing hair, lifting it gently as she sat in still devotion. After a moment, she slowly opened her eyes, gazing intently at the idol of Devi Ma.

With a soft, wistful smile, she whispered, "I admit, Mata, that perhaps you don’t like my question. But I’ve been asking it for so many years now... Please, answer me sometime." Her voice carried a mixture of hope and resignation, a quiet plea that had grown familiar over time.

Just then, a voice from behind broke the silence. "Kis baat ka jawab chahiye Mata Rani se tumhe, Mahek bitiya?" the priest inquired, his tone gentle and filled with curiosity.

The girl turned slightly, still holding the flowers she was about to offer. Smiling softly, she replied, "Panditji, yeh mere aur Mata Rani ke beech ka sawal hai." She offered the flowers to the goddess, her smile unwavering, as if sharing a secret only the deity could understand.

The priest nodded in understanding, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Acha, yeh batao... Krishna Kamal laane ke liye har roj uss jangal mein kyun jati ho?" he asked, trying to unravel the mystery behind her daily visits to the forest.

The girl simply smiled again, a secretive smile, as she returned her gaze to the idol. The wind continued to play with her hair as if it too was waiting for an answer that perhaps only the Devi knew.

The girl looked at the priest with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting the light of the temple's flame as she spoke, "Mata Rani roj saare jag ka bojh uthati hai, aur kabhi shikayat nahi karti. Toh inki ek muskurahat ke liye, main unke liye ek Krishna Kamal ka phool toh laa hi sakti hoon." Her voice was gentle, filled with a quiet devotion. She then turned her gaze back to the idol, her expression serene as she added, "Aur jab Mata Rani ka haath sar par hai, toh kis baat ki chinta?"

With that, she rose gracefully from the ground, the pooja ki thali in her hands, its contents glowing softly in the temple’s light. Turning towards the priest, she said, "Panditji, ek vinti hai. Aaj thoda adhik mantra ki jaap karna meri taraf se. Aaj ka din khaas hai." There was a tender note in her voice, a hint of something deeper.

As she spoke, someone from a distance quietly captured the moment, her poised figure and serene expression framed by the temple's sacred aura. Unaware of the camera, she continued talking to the priest.

"Aaj meri badi behen ka janmadin hai," she began, but the priest interrupted her gently but firmly, "Baas, uska naam mat lo. Jaanti ho tum usne kya kiya hai."

Her face fell slightly, sadness clouding her eyes. "Mujhe pata hai, Panditji. Par na meri intezar khatam hota hai, na meri dua. Kabhi toh Maa meri bhi sunegi," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Main logon ke dar se unke liye dua mangna band toh nahi kar sakti na. Aakhir wo meri behen hai," she added, a tear escaping down her cheek, which she quickly brushed away with a sad smile.

Forcing herself to brighten up, she continued, "Panditji, chhodiye yeh sab. Ab main kheer aur vastra daan karne ja rahi hoon. Aur aapki kheer maine aapke kamre mein rakh di hai." Her tone was composed, but there was a lingering melancholy in her voice, a sense of a burden she bore with grace.

The priest nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of her unspoken pain, as he watched her walk away, the pooja thali still in her hands, towards the next task she had set for herself.

As Mahek was about to leave the temple, a sudden noise from outside caught her attention. She paused and looked out, her eyes widening in disbelief. A group of men was wreaking havoc, tearing down everything in their path.