Nisha Sharma is the sole heiress of the Sharma empire and an orphan. She is known throughout the world for her intelligence, generosity and deep kindness. She achieved the pinnacle of success at an early age. Even after such grave achievements she i...
That was when a deep, soothing voice interrupted my spiraling thoughts. "Excuse me! I could not control my curiosity... you seem like a princess from your apparel." Startled, I turned to find a man, youthful yet carrying an air of wisdom that belied his appearance.
His unruly hair framed a kind, angular face, and though he seemed to radiate an aura of calmness, the slight pout on his lips made him appear almost boyish. For a moment, I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly; he was behaving like a child.
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"What are you looking at with that look?" The man's playful accusation pulled me from my reverie.
"Seriously, dude," I thought, suppressing a smile. He looked older than me, yet here he was, acting as if he were the younger one.
There was something endearing about him that made me lower my guard. A trust stirred within me, inexplicably strong.
"By the way, did you steal that jewelry from Kampilya?" he continued, suddenly serious. I tilted my head slightly, caught off guard. Did I really look like a thief? My mind wrestled with absurd thoughts as I internally cringed, afresh with embarrassment.
"I merely want to know because the city of Kampilya and all its wealth belong to me, for I am its ruler now," he declared with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Kampilya? The name rang a bell, but I could not place it. "If you have stolen the apparel and jewelry from Kampilya, then do return them; otherwise, you shall be punished." A playful smile lifted his lips as I noticed the twinkle in his eye. I felt an overwhelming urge to giggle but restrained myself, caught up in the charm of this odd dialogue.
"Who are you?" I inquired with an earnest look, my curiosity piqued further. His incredulous reaction was worth noting, though I pressed on, "And since when does Kampilya belong to you?"
His exaggerated gasp was almost comical. "Me!?" he exclaimed, pointing at himself. "Yes, you!" I replied, trying to maintain my composure.
"I am Krishna Vasudev." He introduced himself with a disarming smile, and in that moment, time seemed to freeze. My heart stopped, halted by disbelief. The very embodiment of divinity stood before me-Shri Krishna, the playful god from lore, adorned with a peacock feather, radiating an aura of magnificence and peace.
But a dreadful realization sunk in: I must be in Dwapar Yug, the age of his glory. Was it possible? This was far beyond my comprehension-the fantastical and the mythical had somehow woven themselves into my reality.
No longer was I a transient in an unfamiliar time; I stood at the threshold of history itself. I wished to collapse at his feet, to express my reverence, but I was paralyzed, the weight of my emotions anchoring me in place.
Panic washing over me. If he was here, it meant I had somehow transcended time itself. The very fabric of reality felt conspicuously fragile around me.
Krishna's laughter resonated in the air, light and unburdened. "I am about to win the city of Kampilya and make all its wealth mine," he announced confidently, basking in the glory of impending triumph.
I scanned the horizon suspiciously. "You fight by yourself?" I asked, my mind spinning with a thousand questions.
"Fight myself?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "How can one fight oneself? Battles require opponents. I am about to confront Drupad, the king of Kampilya, along with his entire army. We shall see who braves my Kaumodaki mace in battle." With a flourish, he lifted his Kaumodaki mace off his shoulder, showcasing it with pride, its intricate carvings detailed against the vibrant backdrop of the approaching dusk.
My eyes widened, a blend of awe and confusion washing over me. 'Where did it come from?' I thought.
Seemingly sensing my bewilderment, a smirk creased his lips. He turned and began walking, the forest path illuminated by the moon light. Without thinking, I shouted, "Wait!" He halted, glancing back over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in a mix of intrigue and amusement.
"I also want to come with you!" I declared, adrenaline coursing through me. Much to my delight, he nodded, a smile gracing his features, and I hurriedly rushed to his side-which I hadn't realized I had been yearning for.
It felt comforting to walk alongside someone who exuded such warmth and strength, far better than the looming shadows of the forest. Yet, a sense of trepidation clung to my heart. Where are you, Priyanshu? I thought of my best friend, wishing we could share in this surreal moment together.
We walked in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. I hugged myself tightly as I tried to process the events that had swept me into this ancient world. Was I truly standing beside Krishna? The stories I had read all my life were unfolding before my very eyes!
"Are you afraid?" he finally asked, breaking the silence, his gaze thoughtful yet compassive.
"Afraid? Of what?" I replied flippantly, although I couldn't shake the flutter of nerves. Was it fear of an upcoming battle, or fear of the unknown possibilities that lay ahead?
"Of the past or the future," he answered, his voice low and melodic. "You seem burdened, yet here you are, amidst the chaos, seeking comfort."
His words struck deep. Though I had written the script of my life, I often found myself trapped in desires and disappointments. Would I ever reconcile that pain?
"I suppose... I'm just trying to find my path," I admitted hesitantly, surprised by my own vulnerability under his gentle gaze.
"Every path has its challenges, but there's beauty in each step taken." He smiled again, and a flicker of hope ignited inside me-a release, as if lanterns were lighting up the dark paths of my heart.
As we continued to walk side by side, beneath the lush canopies of ancient trees, my fears began to dissipate, replaced with a burgeoning curiosity. Whatever awaited us in Kampilya-be it danger or treasure-I now felt I wouldn't face it alone.
The night fell like a gentle cloak around us, and with my unlikely companion beside me, I stepped boldly into a new chapter, ready to embrace both the battles ahead and the stories they would etch upon my soul. My past faded, as the legend of Krishna Vasudev illuminated the path through the shadows that once consumed me.
It was a surreal experience, following Krishna. The world around me teemed with life, yet it felt as if we were woven into an ancient tapestry, embroidered with tales of valor and love.
I stole glances at him, wondering if adventure awaited beyond the forest, and as I prepared to march towards destiny, a simple truth dawned on me-the journey itself was about to be historical, emotional, and transformative.
Little did I know that this moment was just the tip of the iceberg, a mere prologue to a story that spanned across battles, hearts intertwined, and the echoes of legends long past. With each step forward, hope mingled with excitement, and I found myself looking forward to every moment yet to unfold.
