Featured by Wattpad Asian Fantasy.
The nectar of righteousness is entrenched when Shri Lakshmi, who emerged from the ocean along with the amrita reunites with Narayan, who, as Mohini, bestowed the amrita upon the Devatas.
Dhriti - the supreme manife...
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A stormy sky was always like a widow's sky - bedarkened even in the hazy sun. Nurturing breezes which were now gust of storms, flurried through the uprooted and windblown trees. As the hazy sun slowly rose over the minuscule temple of Shiva, a reverent gasp escaped Kunti's lips. Seeing the remains of the freshly crumbled temple walls lying in heaps of rubble as a result of the typhoon, once again, a feeling of despair ran into her skin. Petrified with it, she quickly shifted her sight at Madri, who was wordlessly clutching the ārti thāli in her hand. Routinely, they had come to perform their morning pooja only to be a witness of the shambles created by the torrential downpour of last night.
The trees whose branches had grown through the walls were now uprooted, stone walls settled like the ruins of an ancient monument on the moist soil while meandering dust winds covered the scattered artefacts with dirt. Amidst all the dismantling, the Liṅgā stood untouched. Surrounded with nothing but distraught, the almighty stood unfazed in his glory, a true little sigh of relief for the two agitated women.
"Just yesterday, we had bedecked this place with scents and wildflowers and now, the wrath of the sopping clouds have washed it all away like a deluge. The astral influence of nature can be extremely uncanny sometimes." Kunti said, still a little fraught by the sight of devastation.
Handing over the thāli to Kunti, Madri simply nodded at the uncertainty, "What was there yesterday is not there today, what is today would not be there to see the dawn of tomorrow," she continued, firmly tearing a piece off the loose end of her saari. "This sequence of existing and ceasing goes on like this. As long as we live under the illusion of 'we are and we always will be', the creator of this universe will keep testing our expectations and habit of controlling everything," saying so, she walked closer towards the petite Śivaliṅga, securely covering its Śikhara with the cloth.
Not fully ambiguous about Madri's conviction, Kunti nudged her co-wife, "The sun has fully arose Madri, let's go back to our hut. Yudhishthir must've already woken up. We will ask Arya to build a shade over the Śivaliṅga when he is done with all his daily tasks." she reminded, as the Kulvadhus of Kuruvansh followed their own footsteps engraved in the moist soil on their way back home.
Dwindling her distress as she gradually neared their little dwelling, Kunti sniffled in the mildewy air, narrating the sight they just encountered, to Pandu. "It's the cruelty of nature that has distraughted me with a destructive sight around my Lord. What does this portend? Is this an augury towards a misfortune? Arya, with our departure and Gandhari jiji birthing a patch of flesh out of her womb, Hastinapur is already cast under the spell of mishaps and attesting more such ill-omened sights just upsurge my anguish," Kunti elucidated, scooting closer to her slumbering child.
"Yet it sounds like a miracle that nature continues to teach us how to live, act and move on by the example of destruction," the latter assented, nodding in agreement to Kunti's concern, "There is nothing to worry about, Kunti. I will make sure that I go there before the dusk and build a canopy of shade over the Shivling, so that you both can continue performing your daily austerities."
