An Historic Fantasy story

The dream made him feel alive The dream which he went to sleep every other night The dream that made him fall in love The dream showed him his reality And finally, the dream is nothing but her. She is his as much as he is hers, He only cools down in her presence, whereas he heats hers. God made her for him, and the same god sent her to him. He knows her throughout his life, whereas she only knows him as others have described. Will the dream survive reality, or will it perish? Witness the story that tries to combine one's heart with one's heart to make a life out of it. ________________________________________________________________ Updates: Mon - Sat @ 6 PM IST unless mentioned otherwise

*Completed* ___________________________________________________________________ The stain they called it. Sin they are ready to commit and ready to be bound with the curse of the outcome, cause the heart's desire can never be fulfilled until it latches and drinks up as much as it needs. Not a single person is aware of how this clumsy, small, innocent, and pure girl managed to make her mark on his arrogant yet pride-filled heart. To him, she is his ambrosia To her, he is her Atman Can they share their lifetime or will it end as a Kalank? Only time will tell.

I was born for him - To be with him, to serve him, to love him. My eyes seek only his validation. My heart beats only for his name. My hands ache to touch only his presence. My feet move only in his direction. My body bends, curves, and surrenders - only under his gaze. They say, "Without devotion, love cannot survive. And without love, devotion cannot be attained." And my devotion for him is untouched, unwavering. My heart is filled with a love that belongs only to him - The one my eyes are forever searching for. As I tied the strings of my anklets-anklets that once chimed with devotion but would ring with destruction tonight-I wrapped myself in silk, coiled my hair, and adorned it with Kanakambaram flowers. But not with love this time. Tonight, they burn with fury. When the forces of destruction shook my city-our heaven, Srirangam-with the invasion of those others, I made a decision. A choice born not from fear but fire: to show them what real devotion is. The power of love. The might of the one who seeks nothing but gives everything. When the army of Delhi Sultanate neared the temple-our divine abode-I knew what to do. I knew no mortal hand driven by violence and greed would be allowed to touch him. To see him. They did not deserve the sight. Not even a glimpse. So tonight, my legs will move. My body will curve. My lips will sing. And my hands-my hands will kill. For those who believe they can rule, who think they can take what was never theirs-I will show them what a dance of destruction truly looks like. Every yuga, when man thinks he is god, my god rises to remind them who the real one is. But this time, he is not alone. He has me. I am Vellayi. The Devadasi of Srirangam. The one they call a living goddess. But to him... I am just his simple love. All my life, I have lived, breathed, and danced for only one. To me, he is everything. My Ranga. © Ival_Nidhi_Writes 2025 All rights reserved.