🥇in Krishna🥇in Lakshmi🥇in Laxminarayan..🥇 in Mahabharat on 25/11/2015
In Vaikuntha she is Narayan's Sri; on Prithvilok, she is Krishna's Devashree
Call them Krishna and Devashree or Narayan and Lakshmi; both are as eternal as time. Experience th...
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Krishna approached the door, and his hands were shaking.
What would he find on the other side? Was she hurt? Was she—
He couldn't let himself think it.
He raised the Kaumodaki and brought it down on the door.
The wood and metal exploded inward.
And there, in the dim chamber beyond—Devashree had a guard by the throat.
She had a guard caught in the chain that bound her wrists, the iron looped ruthlessly around his throat. Even on her knees she had him bent backward, choking him with nothing but grit. The guard's face was purple, his hands clawing uselessly at the iron links cutting into his windpipe. His feet kicked weakly at the ground.
She was on her knees, clothes torn, face bruised and bloody, chains binding her wrists but her eyes blazed with fury. She looked feral.
She heard the crash and glanced up.
Her gaze met Krishna's and he froze. Because this was Lakshmi not as the gentle giver of gold and fortune, but Lakshmi as she existed long before Vaikunth's peace.....the primordial power of Shakti that even demons feared.
For a moment, they just stared at each other across the chamber. Her, covered in blood and chains, choking the life out of a man twice her size. Him, standing in the doorway with the Kaumodaki still raised.
The guard gave one last weak gurgle and went limp.
Devashree released the chain and let him drop to the floor. She stayed on her knees, breathing hard, hair falling around her face. She exhaled once, slow. Then she straightened from her knees. She rolled her bruised shoulders, winced, then brushed stone dust from her palms as though this were all an inconvenience rather than an ordeal.
"Took you long enough," she said, her voice rough but steady.
Something between a laugh and a sob escaped Krishna's throat.
He crossed the distance between them in two strides, dropping to his knees beside her.
The Kaumodaki clattered to the floor, forgotten. His hands went to the chains and the iron shattered like glass.
The moment her hands were free, Devashree rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly at the stiffness. She flexed her fingers, testing stiffness, nodded once in satisfaction and stood up. Like she hadn't just been imprisoned and chained and fighting for her life.
"Come on," she said. "There are other women in this place. We're not leaving anyone behind."
But Krishna caught her hand and pulled her back, turned her to face him.
"Shree—"
"Krishna, we don't have time—"
"There is," he said. His voice was low, roughened with everything he hadn't let himself feel until now. "Look at me, Shree. Please. Just—look at me."
