Story cover for Devi Bhadrapraani : The Beginning Of The Universe by DeekshithaDulinti
Devi Bhadrapraani : The Beginning Of The Universe
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    Reads 4,566
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    Parts 7
  • WpHistory
    Time 33m
  • WpView
    Reads 4,566
  • WpVote
    Votes 215
  • WpPart
    Parts 7
  • WpHistory
    Time 33m
Ongoing, First published Nov 11, 2021
Driving back to the beginning of the universe, where the only source of light was an effulgent energy. On the request of the Devas, the feminine was born. With her soothing touch grew the trees, bringing every type of colours into the universe which was once colourless.

The one who was favoured the most by every single being existing, had to go through each type of pain subsisting in this universe. The mother herself had to go through billions of test laying down as a trap on every step she took.

Narayana, her beloved lover, caressed her every pain away. The only source which always bought her to pleasure was his hands brushing through her thick hairs. His eyes adoring every inch of her, but he tried to hide himself from getting caught by her. A point where it was too obvious that he was ready to take on anything just to watch her arrow shaped eyes and her resplendency shining soothingly, just like the moon. 

Thier universe created the most powerful energy, and resulted into the most divinest happening of all. But was that it? The millions of sacrifices, separations, re-births, staking, and trouble kept exploding piecemeal. Did both of them lose hope after all? Did both of them cerebrate it was better to stay away from each other so there's no upcoming troubles arriving? Read this story to unveil the mask of thier love.
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The Burning Rose

15 parts Ongoing Mature

A MAHABHARATA RETELLING ~~~ All the other flowers in the garden were brought up to envy the rose. Maybe shun it even. And admire it, too. Unusual ways. Too-red petals, too-sharp thorns, too-sweet fragrance. If only each flower did not have a mind of its own. If only stories were truly what one hand wrote them to be. If only the blood on every thorn was the fault of the rose and not that of the hunter. ~~~ Her breathing had suddenly halted as her eyes had accidentally landed on a piece of paper carelessly tucked under the lampholder on the bedside table. It looked like the work of a royal servant who had accidentally come across it while cleaning the room and then picked it up and tucked it away. She had carefully sat up and reached for it. The hot metal of the lampholder - like the one she had seen Draupadi seamlessly remove from a counter - had almost seared her palm, as she had hurriedly but carefully pushed it aside and retrieved the folded piece of what seemed like pearlescent paper. Touching it had felt like a grave invasion of privacy, but the curiosity that had suddenly roared and raced within her like a great river breaking free off a cliff. She had hurriedly unfolded the paper and had been greeted by a not-so-perfect handwriting and a volley of letters. It was a letter. A letter that looked like someone had ripped their heart out and presented it to someone on a piece of pearlescent paper. ~~~ WARNINGS: Scenes of intimacy and violence, possible hints of self-harm or similar intentions