Beauty and the Beast

27

Narasimha watched the footprints left on the floor. Perhaps she was applying mahawari on her feet but got some work to do and rushed away forgetting the mahawari.

Chanchala.

Regardless, it was a very warm feeling to see her here in his household again. Well, supposed to be 'their' but she didn't exactly remember. It felt like home after a long time. Things were always tumultuous in their lives. After all, he was the protector of all beings. Narasimha was particularly meant to be one who rages at those who harm his devotees. 

Narasimha walked inside and saw her with the hair tied in a large bun as she took care of his food.

It was easily noticeable that Narasimha was never angry with Chenchita nearby.

She was always busy within the house. Always doing something or the other. It was never a moment to rest. When she finishes eating breakfast, she has to begin preparing for lunch. She has lunch and has to prepare for his evening dhyaana and then his dinner.

Narasimha made his mind to bring her to the spot where she understands her own place within his house. She isn't just his wife. She is the Jaganmata.

Narasimha walked over to his spot and sat there. The yoga patta over his knees to hold his feet in the pose. As Narasimha divulged into his meditation, his aura was pulled inside him. He sat there in his own form but was hard as a stone. There was no movement to him. No answer when the devotees come to him. No response when the gandharvas comes to sing for him. Nothing. He stayed within himself. It was like he was a statue. A life like statue.

Two weeks later, Chenchita noted that he wasn't even responding to Garuda and Shesha. She thought for a moment but told them to speak when he has come out of meditation.

Chenchita went on with taking care of the house when some of her hunters arrived at her home.

"There seems to be some sanyaasi climbing uphill, Chenchita. He seems to be hoping to taken darshana of Saami." They told her.

Chenchita looked at Narasimha who was deep within his meditation. It had been weeks since he last heeded to anyone. Even devas did not get the fortune of being heard by him. He had went far uphill in the caves. Chenchita could feel that raging fire like inside of Narasimha while he meditated. That raging fire was almost as bright as a the Jyoti in a large ghee lit diya with hundred wicks.

Yoga Narasimha moving up into Jwala Narasimha. Chenchita could tell that if someone disturbed him now, his temper would be just as fierce.

Leaving the work, Chenchita walked out of the house and followed the hunters who took her to the sanyaasi. She took some food with her for him. Tired of walking uphill, the sanyaasi had stopped for a moment on a stone but he kept on expressing his depth of devotion for Narayana.

The moment he heard the sound of anklets, he turned to look at the person who arrived. When the hunters moved away to let Chenchita see the sanyaasi properly, he stood there stunned at her sight. Everything escaped out of his mind. He simply stood there in shock.

The danda in his hand shook softly.

Neither could he recollect a mantra, nor a sloka to say in her praise. Such beauty she had that words would not form within his mind to praise her.

She resembled Lakshmi but yet had that specific markings reminding of her tribal association. The inks on her skin just like that of people in the tribe, the way she wore her saree, the way she had some wild flowers in her hair, the way she wore a few leaves in her hair. Yet, just like Mahalakshmi, she wore a beautiful saree, anklets and jewellery. She wore a gold mangalya. She wore three nose rings over sushma, adi and pingala Nadi.