Destined (RagSan FF)

Chapter 4

Through every storm, a warm light softly glows,
Unseen hands that catch me before I fall, she knows.

Parvati Gadodia, known fondly as Dadi, had always been the matriarch of the Gadodia household, a symbol of strength and wisdom. To the world, she was a strict, no-nonsense figure, but to Ragini, she was a loving grandmother whose heart beat for her family's happiness, especially her beloved granddaughter. Ragini had been her “laddoo” ever since she first held her tiny form in her arms, a precious gift she had cherished and protected with all her might.

Ragini was more than just her granddaughter; she was the joy that brightened Dadi’s days, the sweet voice that filled her home with laughter and song. As a child, Ragini had clung to her, her tiny hand always wrapped around Dadi's fingers, her curious eyes seeking answers to every question that popped into her little mind. It was Dadi who had taught her the importance of faith, the power of resilience, and the strength of a kind heart.

But now, as Dadi looked at her laddoo, she saw the pain Ragini was trying so hard to hide. She knew her granddaughter’s heart had been shattered, her trust broken, and it tore at her soul to see the light dimmed in Ragini’s once-sparkling eyes. How could she bear it, watching her child suffer in silence, when all she wanted was to take away every ounce of her pain?

The sun had barely risen over Badi when Dadi made her way to the small temple fifteen minutes away from home, her footsteps light yet determined. The early morning rays bathed the deities in a warm, golden glow as she folded her hands and bent her head, her heart heavy with worry.

“Hey Thakurji, apne laddoo ko sambhal lena,” she murmured, her voice laced with the distinct cadence of her Marwadi roots. (“Oh Lord Krishna, please take care of my sweet child.”) Her bangles clinked softly as she raised her hands in supplication, eyes closed in deep prayer. “Mhare chhore ne bahut saari takleefein sehni padi hain. Uska man kitna toot gaya hoga, par aap hi to hain jo sab theek kar sakte ho.” (“My child has gone through so much pain. Her heart must be so broken, but only you can make things right.”)

Dadi’s thoughts wandered to her beloved Ragini, her heart aching at the memory of the past months. She had watched her granddaughter’s world shatter—first with Laksh’s rejection, and then the whole ordeal with Swara. Ragini, her laddoo, had always been the one who quietly bore her pain, never letting anyone see the cracks in her heart.

“Are Laddoo, tu kyun sab kuch chhupa leti hai? Kisiko kuch batati kyun nahi?” she whispered, her eyes misting over as she thought of Ragini’s quiet resilience, her brave face masking the turmoil within. (“Oh, my dear child, why do you hide everything? Why don’t you tell anyone anything?”) “Tujhpe jo beeti hai, woh to sirf tu hi jaane hai.” (“Only you know what you’ve gone through.”)

She pressed her hands together, leaning closer to the small idol of Lord Krishna adorned with fresh flowers. “Thakurji, aap to sab jaante ho na? Hamari chhori kitni masoom hai, kitni saaf dil wali. Uski khushi ke liye, uske sukh ke liye main aapse kuch bhi maangne ko tayar hoon.” (“Lord, you know everything, don’t you? How innocent and pure-hearted our child is. For her happiness, for her peace, I’m willing to ask you for anything.”)

The incense burned softly, its fragrance mingling with the early morning air as Dadi continued her silent plea. She knew Ragini was strong—stronger than most gave her credit for—but even the strongest needed support, needed someone to lean on. And after seeing Sanskar’s sudden recovery, Dadi couldn’t help but worry more.

“Sanskar bhi theek ho gaya, par ab Laddoo ko sambhalna hoga,” she thought, her brows furrowing. (“Sanskar has also recovered, but now I have to take care of Laddoo.”) “Jitna sab kuch badal gaya hai, Laddoo ka dil bahut naazuk hai. Uske man ko shanti mile, yeh prarthana karti hoon.” (“So much has changed, and Laddoo’s heart is very fragile. I pray that she finds peace in her heart.”)