SHIVMANTRA!!

Chp-2, Shesht Avatar

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Shivam stretched, a sense of purpose filling him. He had awakened from a strange dream. As he reached for his sickle, his hand brushed against a locket hanging from his neck.

He pulled it out and examined it closely. It was a simple silver pendant, adorned with a symbol he recognized as the trident of Lord Shiva. His mother had given him the locket years ago, saying it was a gift from a wise priest.

Shivam's heart raced. He had always believed in the stories of the Avatars, chosen ones who descended to Earth to protect humanity. Could it be that he was one of them?

Shivam ran across the wheat field with his sickle on one hand and started to plow when he suddenly paused at the edge of the puddle. The reflection, though distorted by the ripples, was unmistakably divine.

Lord Shiva's face, serene and majestic, was framed by long, flowing locks of matted hair. His third eye, a crescent moon resting between his brows, radiated a celestial glow.

The god's body, clad in tiger skin, was muscular and lithe. A snake coiled around his neck, its hood raised in a protective gesture. In his hand, he held a trident, its three prongs shimmering with divine light.

Shivam, overcome with awe, dropped to his knees. "Oh, Lord Shiva," he exclaimed, his voice trembling, "I am unworthy to behold your divine form."

To his astonishment, the reflection seemed to smile. A gentle voice, filled with compassion, echoed in Shivam's mind: "Fear not, child. You have been chosen for a sacred task."

However, a hint of concern crept into God's voice. "Remember, the world is in peril. Sheshvayu, a rakshash, will soon return to wreak havoc. It is up to you to stop him."

Shivam felt a surge of determination. "I will do my utmost, Lord Shiva," he vowed.

As the reflection began to fade, God's words echoed in Shivam's mind:

"The fate of the world rests in your hands."

Only Shivam knew he was Shesht Avatar or the last Avatar of Lord Shiv. Nobody else knew about it, not even his mother.
It was only until something dreadful would happen, that would create the belief that God has come back on Earth in this modern Era.

Shivam plowed the crops and carried the wheat back to his home, the sun was coming down and the winds were gushing.

As Shivam trudged home, his thoughts wandered. The weight of the wheat sacks seemed to mirror the burden of his secret. He'd known since he was a child that he was different. A divine spark within him, a connection to the cosmic dance of creation. But he'd kept it hidden, afraid of the consequences.

The village was bathed in the golden hues of sunset. The villagers, their faces etched with the lines of toil, were preparing for the evening. Shivam, however, felt a sense of unease. He knew that his destiny was intertwined with the fate of the world, a weight that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

As he entered his modest home, his mother greeted him with a warm smile. She was unaware of the storm brewing within her son, of the secret he carried. Shivam's heart ached, the desire to share his truth tugging at him. But he knew that the time was not yet right.

The wind howled outside, a mournful melody that seemed to echo Shivam's inner turmoil. He sat by the hearth, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. As he gazed into the fire, he saw visions of a world in chaos, a world that desperately needed his guidance.

And so, Shivam waited, his heart heavy but his spirit resolute. He knew that one day, when the time was right, he would step into the light and reveal his true identity. Until then, he would continue to serve his people, a silent guardian of the world.