Rukmini stepped out of her house, her breath catching in her chest as she saw Raman standing before her, a striking figure in his traditional attire. The way he carried himself in the desi look made her heart race, and for a moment, she simply admired him in awe. Meanwhile, Raman's heart pounded in his chest as his eyes fell upon her. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and their gazes locked, holding a silent conversation of their own. It was only when Sulakshana, their elder, appeared to bless them that they broke their gaze and began the walk toward the temple, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them.
Raman’s nerves were palpable—an unfamiliar flutter of anxiety gnawed at him. He had always been composed, but this time was different. She was his, yet words failed him, leaving him silent in the presence of her radiant beauty. Rukmini, in turn, found herself captivated by his presence, struck by the timeless elegance he seemed to embody.
Breaking the silence, Raman asked, his voice low and uncertain, "Why is Navratri celebrated? What’s its significance?"
Rukmini blinked, taken aback by the question. "You've never celebrated it? Why?" she asked.
His voice softened, tinged with melancholy, as he replied, "After losing my family, everything changed. No festival ever held the same meaning again. Nothing could bring the light back into my life."
The vulnerability in his words stirred something deep within Rukmini. She could feel the weight of his loss and offered him her compassion. "Navratri," she began gently, "means 'nine nights.' It honors the victory of Goddess Durga over the demon Mahishasura. Each night represents one of Durga's nine forms, each symbolizing different qualities and powers."
She continued, her voice steady and soothing, as she explained the myth: Mahishasura, granted immortality by Lord Brahma, believed no woman could ever defeat him. He wreaked havoc across the world until the gods created Durga, a powerful goddess who was destined to bring him down. Armed with divine weapons, Durga waged a fierce battle for ten days and nights, ultimately slaying the demon when he took the form of a buffalo.
As Rukmini spoke, Raman’s eyes softened with understanding, a spark of wonder lighting up his gaze. By the time they reached the temple, a sense of peace settled in his heart. The sound of the bhajan filled the air, their voices joining with the others, weaving a harmonious connection with the divine.
On the way back, Rukmini gently took Raman’s hand, intertwining their fingers. "Don’t ever say you don’t have a family again," she said, her voice firm with resolve. "I’m here for you. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together."
Raman’s heart swelled at her words. The depth of her commitment filled him with an unexpected warmth, and he smiled, his trust in her growing stronger. "There’s something I want to show you tomorrow. Will you come with me?" he asked, his voice laced with anticipation. "Do you trust me enough?"
"Of course," she replied, her curiosity piqued. "But where are we going?"
"It’s a surprise," he said with a teasing smile, his voice light as they parted ways for the evening, their hearts beating in unison, anticipating what the next day would bring.
To be continued........................
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Veiled Hearts✔️
Romance"He, a soldier fighting for freedom. She, his lost diamond-a beautiful storm of memories. And he was her reason to survive." Disclaimer: This work is a piece of pure fiction and should be treated as such. The following points clarify the intent and...
