Vishnupriya Shreeyanjali

The Forgotten Love

As the power of the shraap slowly wrapped around Shri Hari, his memories began to fade like the setting sun slipping behind the horizon. The divine love, the incarnations, the joyous union and painful separation everything he had shared with his ardhangini  Mahalakshmi, began to dissolve into nothingness.         
                               
Shri Hari's POV              
              
He stood in his celestial form in Vaikuntha, surrounded by divine light, yet he felt a void a hollow space in his heart that not even the heavens could fill. His eyes wandered to the mark on his chest, the sacred Vatsa mark. A deep frown creased his divine forehead.

"Yeh chinh... kiska hai?" he wondered, his voice carrying a rare confusion. The mark, the imprint of his love, remained etched on his form, yet its meaning had slipped from his consciousness. Shri Hari, the all-knowing, now found himself caught in a web of forgetfulness. A part of him felt incomplete, though he couldn't quite place why.                                 

In the depths of the cosmic silence, I felt it, something foreign, something missing. An emptiness that gnawed at the core of my being, like an incomplete melody haunting my existence. It was a strange sensation, one that I couldn’t quite place, but it lingered within me like a shadow.

For kalpas, I have traversed the endless oceans of time, moving through creation, preservation, and destruction. I am the protector, the sustainer of all that exists, yet today, in this vastness of the universe, I feel small. I feel... lost.

My gaze shifted to the Srivatsa the divine mark on my chest. It glowed softly, an eternal reminder of something—kuch to hai, something that has always been with me. Yet, today, its light felt distant, like a memory I couldn’t quite grasp. It was comforting, yes, but also troubling. Why did it feel different today? Why did it feel like a part of me that should be there... isn’t?

I pressed my hand against the mark, feeling its warmth seep into my skin. There was magic in it, an energy that spoke of love, connection, and something beyond the comprehension of even the gods. But the more I tried to understand it, the further it slipped away. how can I explain this... this emptiness? Words fail me, even in the language of the cosmos.

It is not merely the absence of someone or something. No, it’s more profound. It is as if a part of my very soul has been severed, jaise mera apna shakti my energy, my essence has drifted away. But who? What is it that I’ve lost? The question burns within me, yet every answer eludes my mind.

I close my eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the universe around me. The hum of creation continues as it always has, but its melody feels incomplete.

I try to immerse myself in my duties, in the expanse of time and space, hoping that maybe this strange feeling will fade. But it doesn’t. It grows stronger, more unbearable with each passing moment. My hands unconsciously reach for the Srivatsa again, its glow flickering slightly, like a heartbeat out of sync.

“Yeh kya hai?” I murmur, trying to decipher the silence within me. Is this pain? No, not pain... but a deep, atyant virahaa profound longing that I cannot name. It consumes me, and yet, there is no memory attached to it. No person, no event. Just this... void.

And yet, amid this emptiness, the Srivatsa is a beacon. Its glow, faint but steady, is the only thing keeping me anchored I wonder. It feels alive, as though it’s speaking to me, whispering secrets I once knew but have forgotten.

But forgotten what? My mind is a vast ocean, filled with the knowledge of eons, but this... this one piece remains hidden from me, like a star just beyond my reach. And it burns at me. The void is not just an absence—it’s a hunger. A deep, gluttonous need for something, someone, that my soul craves but my mind cannot remember.