In Bhaskara : -
An inhale of the sandalwood scent, bought a soft and calm smile on full red lips. Four to five people wearing silk blue garments and adorned with modest gold ornaments continued to work simultaneously alongside each other to create the sandalwood paste for the early morning veneration of Lord Mahadeva.
"Bring the bael leaves and they must be fresh," said a brisk voice of the woman, as she traced her kohl-drawn eyes over the gold plates filled with various ingredients. Her sharp and experience gaze catalogued and noticed the irregularities with ease as she ordered swiftly, "Those marigold flowers don't seem fresh. Go pick some fresh flowers from the garden and be quick. The auspicious time is approaching."
One of the people around her bowed with hands in the añjali mudrā before leaving to complete the work given.
Suddenly, two calloused male hands obstructed her view. She smiled recognizing the familiar touch.
"Who am I?" asked a soft yet husky voice near her ear. She patted the cheek near her head gently, as she replied, "My son, I don't need my eyes to recognize my child's touch."
"Mother!" whined the voice again, before removing his hands as the woman turned around with a gentle smile. The strict and stern look melting into a lovable and adoring smile.
The radiant man, whose hazel wine orbs sparkled with love, care and devotion for the woman before him, bend to to do a charanasparsha, "Pranipat Mother!"
"May you live long, my son," blessed the woman wholeheartedly with a small happy smile on her face, "I did not expect you to arrive so soon."
"Uh...Mother," said the male giving his mother a sheepish smile, "Is pramātāmaha here?"
The woman raised an amused eyebrow in question, while another male voice, decidedly older and wiser, spoke, "See Amba, just listen to this son of yours! He stayed with Bhargava for two extra months after completing his education just because I was still here! Now see why I scold this rascal every few seconds!"
Amba let out an amused smile at the exasperated and irritated voice of her mātāmaha Hotravahana, as he came out from the inner temple, while she heard her son speak in a shocked voice, "You are still here? Here I thought, you left."
"Ow! Ow! Let my ear go, pramātāmaha!"
Her son's sudden yelp made Amba chuckle at their antics as mātāmaha Hotravahana twisted his ear, as he said, "You seem rather excited at the prospect of my departure."
Amba watched as her son gave his maternal great-grandfather a nervous smile, "Me? No, no, you must have been mistaken. Why would I be excited?"
Hotravahana gave his great-grandson a sharp glare, before letting the poor ear go. He murmured underneath his breath, "I know you very well, son. I have been watching you since your childhood. You can't make me a fool through those tactics of yours."
The younger male scowled as he heard it, as he thought, "Who wants to make a fool out of a fool?"
Hotravahana turned to face his great-grandson, speaking in a very sweet voice, "Did you say something, Vasusena?"
The newly introduced Vasusena gave a small forced smile, as he replied with a mischievous voice, "No, absolutely not, pramātāmah. I think your ears are ringing. Perhaps, a visit to the physician would help you."
Before Hotravahana could retort, Amba arrived with a gold plate filled with akshata rice, sandalwood paste, vermilion, flowers and a lighted diya, "Mātāmaha, Karna, please stop this bickering for now. We are in the temple. Do keep the peace and sanctity of the place."
Both the males stopped talking, all folding their hands and bowing in front of the Shivalinga. Karna reached up to rang the bell hanging from above, as Amba started the aarti.
Karpūragauraṁ karuṇāvatāraṁ
Sansārsāram bhujagendrahāram |
Sadāvasantaṁ hṛdayāravinde
Bhavaṁ bhavānīsahitaṁ namāmi ||
After the aarti finished, they took the prasad from the plate, as Amba did the tilaka for both her grandfather and son.
"Grandfather, you were speaking of going to the Mahendragiri for meditation. When are you planning to go?" asked Amba, looking up to meet her grandfather's eyes.
Hotravahana looked at the curious and sad gaze of his granddaughter before narrowing his eyes at his great-grandson's eager gaze, before he replied, "Yes child, I do want to go, but I wanted to go after seeing the marriage of my great-grandson. The day this wish of mine will be fulfilled then only will I proceed towards my sādhana."
Amba stifled her smile, shaking her head at the bickering war between grandfather and grandson.
"I have heard that whoever wants to go for auspicious meditation, they go as soon as possible but my great-grandfather is unique. He is late even in doing such auspicious work." muttered Karna sarcastically under his breath.
Amba moved her head to the side, trying to stifle her laugh while Hotravahana smiled sweetly, speaking in a dangerous voice, "Did you say something my dear?
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
𝕰𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 | ✔
ऐतिहासिक साहित्यᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ᴇꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ. ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇꜰᴜꜱᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏɪᴇʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇᴅ ᴘᴀᴛʜ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ; ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ʀᴇꜰᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏɪᴇʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ; ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴇ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏɴᴇʟɪɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɴᴏᴛ ʙʏ ʜᴇʀ ᴏ...
