Beauty and the Beast

32

"It is a lion mane, Chenchita, not lustrous long silky hair. It is going to be coarse. It isn't cat fur." Narasimha sighed at her futile attempt of braiding the long mane. "Also, braiding isn't going to make me look any more domesticated. I will look quite silly."

She scoffed. "As if you look any less silly with the head of a lion and body of a human."

"Careful, Sri, you do not call your husband 'silly'. Especially knowing meaning behind it."

"Hmmm... Did I hit a nerve?" She asked lean over his head to look at him. The long lustrous braid fell over. A mischievous smile over her lips. Playfully trying to take a dig at him. But was it ever possible to get angry looking into those eyes?

He caught hold of her arm and dragged her from behind himself. From over his shoulder, fell onto his lap.

"You are quite aware that the moment I feel your touch, all my anger will disappear. So, a re-discussion on it is pointless. So, how about you and I focus on something else. Like you. Does the Goddess fancy a boat ride?"

Chenchita smiled.

"Of course the goddess does, Swami." She answered.

They walked over to the river. A small boat was set by the bank. Chenchita picked up the oar to row the boat but Narasimha held the oar and signaled her to get on the boat.

"Oh? Swami rowing the boat? What would someone say if they were to hear it? I wouldn't be a wise one if I let Swami himself row the boat."

He chuckled. "Well, firstly no one else has business talking about what we do in ekantha. Two, who else should be getting the fortune to boast of being given a ride by me but the Goddess of Fortune? Three, whose will holds any value over mine?"

He gave her a playful wink and offered his hand for her to get on the boat.

She carefully stepped on the boat decorated with flowers. Narasimha then got on and began to row the boat. At the will of Narasimha, the fast-flowing river calmed down. She watched him with a sweet smile as he prepared to row the boat. In this world, there are 64 kinds of arts. Chenchita hadn't been the one to master them but sure Ksheerabdhi Lakshmi was made proficient in them. She remembered the hours her mother had spent trying to teach her boating. She surely was very well proficient in it but there some sweet emotion when it was him rowing the boat.

The moon looked like the curve of his lips, she noted. That smile. It could push her to the deepest cliffs of pleasure or leave her devastated into an endless forest that captured her within itself. Currently, that smile had formed over his lips as he knew the soft touches of her eyes scanning him. His chin resting on his hand. The elbow being supported by the cushioned seat on the boat.

She continued to row the boat. Lakshmi didn't generally row a boat even if she knew how to. She never needed to her. Her father, Samudra, had always made sure that handmaidens next to her always took care of such small things. But she didn't mind rowing the boat for him. Instead, she was quite happy to do that. He liked boat rides. More so ever by the lakes of Vaikuntha.

His eyes were closed, lips parted in pleasing smile. Perhaps he was listening to the songs that his devotees sing to him.

Any kind of negative emotions didn't generally attach to Lakshmi. Sattva was her pradhana lakshana. Yet, sometimes, she wished that he would just stay between them for just a moment. But it would vanish in a moment seeing how she loved him more for his deep love for his devotees.

"I hope this pause is not about splashing water over me or pushing me off the boat." He commented with a teasing smile.

It came to her realization then that she had stopped rowing the boat while staring at him.