Parth Poornima

Rajasuya Yagna

It was the day everyone in Indraprasth had been excitedly waiting for. The day of Indraprasth's freedom. The day of the crowning of Dharmaraj as Chakravarthi Samrat along with his wife, Panchali, as Samragyi. 

The first light of dawn filtered through the intricately carved windows of Indraprasth, casting a gentle glow upon the palace's resplendent interior. As the rays of the sun kissed the marble floors, the palace awakened, revealing the grandeur within its walls. Stepping into the grand hall, one was immediately enveloped by an aura of timeless elegance. Columns of pristine white marble, veined with threads of gold, soared towards the heavens, supporting a vaulted ceiling adorned with exquisite frescoes. Each painting told tales of celestial beings and heroic deeds, their vibrant colours brought to life by the morning light.

At the heart of the hall lay a vast expanse of polished floor, its surface so smooth it mirrored the opulence above. Here, courtiers and dignitaries gathered, their whispers and footsteps echoing softly through the space. The air was filled with the delicate scent of sandalwood and jasmine, carried by the gentle breeze flowing through the open archways. The dining hall was a spectacle of its own, where feasts fit for gods were laid out on long tables of polished teak. Golden goblets and silver platters, engraved with intricate designs, glinted under the glow of crystal chandeliers. The scent of spices and roasted meats wafted through the air, tantalising the senses and heralding the sumptuous meals to come. Venturing further led to the palace gardens, a verdant paradise of blooming flowers and serene water features. Pathways of smooth stone meandered through the greenery, leading to secluded alcoves and pavilions where one could find solace and reflection. The gentle murmur of fountains provided a soothing soundtrack, blending harmoniously with the songs of birds perched in the trees.

Indraprasth had been transformed into a realm of enchantment. Thousands of lamps and lanterns were lit, their soft glow casting a golden hue over the palace. The sound of sitars and flutes filled the air, their melodies weaving a tapestry of music that resonated through the halls. The palace, in all its splendour, stood as a beacon of beauty and grandeur, a testament to the divine artistry of its creator, Vishwakarma guided by the King of Gods, Dev Indra himself. Indraprasth was not merely a palace; it was a living, breathing entity, a realm where every corner held a story, and every stone was imbued with the essence of its illustrious inhabitants. It was a place where the past and present coalesced, creating a timeless sanctuary of elegance and grace.