Beauty and the Beast

36

The sharp claws were retracted back into his paw-like hands to let him play that Veena.

Lakshmi listened to it as her hand hit her thigh in the same taal. He watched her hand telling him the taal. She moved her feet in the same taal adding the sound of her anklets.

His hands moved like butter over the strings, unrestrained.

Her voice as sweet as honey singing. Her eyes were closed while the poetry flowed out of her tongue like the flow of Yamuna. Sometimes slowing down like the respectful daughter of Surya himself and sometimes like an eager lover.

The gandharvas paused their own singing in Swarga to listen to the beautiful song she sung and the music he played.

Was there a wonder why she was the mother of Madana himself? Every inch of him could be commanded by her. The Lord who doesn't sleep would lay on his bed just a little longer to hold her in his arms.

Naarsimhavapu Srimaan. Even if he was there with a lion head, he was still Sri pati. She could care less whether he had the head of a boar, lion or a horse. She was always there on his left thigh.

Who else held him in his grasp like she did. If she wanted so, she could command Narayana write a Bhajan about himself and sing to please her.

On the outside it was surely seemed like she was the humble devotee who was given a great position in view of her devotion and his compassion but only some would argue that it was Lakshmi who enchanted him to follow her.

Lakshmi had stopped singing and playing the taal but she opened her eyes and noticed that Narayana was still playing the Veena. The strings left a specific kind of marks on his fingers. 

The one who knew the deepest secrets of Ramaa. Her own experience within his own self. Worrying about her running away from him, she was after all Chanchala, he captured her within his heart. Perhaps he had never assumed  her as Rajakartri, the one who made Kings. She had easily claimed the Kingdom. If he Vaikuntha was his hridaya kamala, she was Kamalatmika. The very essence of that lotus.

Now no one could enter Vaikuntha unless she allows them to. If they displeased her, she could kick out his own doormen to Vaikuntha.

Why did people ask of her wealth when she was the very bliss within Narayana himself?

She was like the oceans. Restless and passionate when it met the shores but deep and mysterious as they moved away from the shore. No one could tell all her secrets. If she pleased so, they floated in the ocean without struggles and if not, they drowned, never to be found again.

The twang of the string out of taal broke the singing and Narasimha looked at the string that was cut. How many hours they sat like that, he did not know.

"Seems like this Veena needs some repairing." He pointed out.

Even the heavy summers in Ahobilam were easy when she had him. His neela varna reminding her of the rain clouds.

"Hmmm... Have we gone on for a long time? The last time that Veena's string got torn was when I played it for around a 100 human years without realising it."

Narasimha chuckled, "I doubt it has been hundred years but at least a few did pass by."

She slowly moved next to him and rested her head on his lap. With their size difference, all of her upper body was laying in his lap.

Sri Maha Vishnu would not be caught sporting a moustache and a beard. Or at least he did not do so yet in a human form.

His lion whiskers and mane was closest to a moustache and beard he could be seen in.