Hidden Scars

Part 7

2 years later( Arnav and Khushi: 16 years)

In the serene morning light, Subadra was delicately threading marigold flowers into a garland within the hallowed walls of the mandir, her hands moving with practiced ease as she prepared an offering for Devi Maiyya. The scent of the blooms mingled with the incense, creating an air of sanctity.

Arnav, her grandson, came bounding in, his footsteps echoing lightly on the stone floor. Fresh from his bath, droplets of water still clung to his hair—a testament to his haste and respect for the sacred space, knowing well his dadi's insistence on cleanliness before entering the mandir. He slid beside her, his young hands eagerly reaching out to assist in the garland-making.

Subadra's eyes crinkled with joy as she glanced at Arnav, her heart swelling with pride. "Look at him," she thought, my chottey, blossoming into such a fine and handsome young man.

As they worked in companionable silence, arranging the puja thali, Arnav's curiosity bubbled to the surface. He tilted his head, his voice tinged with the innocence of youth, "Dadi, ek baat puchu?"

Subadra turned to face him, her smile warm and inviting. The earnestness in his eyes sparked her own curiosity—what ponderings occupied the mind of her beloved chottey? "Pucho Chottey," she encouraged, her tone gentle. "Don't hesitate. Whatever it is, I will answer."

Arnav gathered his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the deity's idol. "Dadi, why do you pray so fervently each day? What words do you offer to Devi Maiyya? What do you ask of her? And... has she granted all your wishes?"

Subadra's smile deepened, touched by the depth of his questions. She took a moment, her eyes reflecting the flicker of the diyas, before she spoke, her voice a soft echo in the quiet of the mandir.

Subadra's laughter was a gentle chime in the quiet of the mandir, her eyes twinkling with affection for Arnav. No matter how much you grow, my dear, you will always be my Chottey, she thought, her heart brimming with gratitude for the people in their lives—Arvind, Garima, Shashi, and especially Khushi. Their support had been a beacon through the toughest times, ensuring that Arnav remained a vessel of positivity.

With a playful arch of her eyebrow, she addressed him, "Itne saare sawaal chotey? (So many questions, chottey?")

Arnav's response was a sheepish bite of his lip, a smile spreading across his face, betraying his embarrassment. Subadra shook her head, her expression softening, "It's alright. I'll do my best to answer you. Beginning the day with a positive outlook is paramount. And what better place to garner that positivity than the temple, in the presence of our God? It infuses you with a sense of peace and positive energy that lasts throughout the day, providing much-needed solitude. When we pray, we converse with God, sharing everything from minor grievances to our deepest troubles. It allows us to reflect and see things from a different perspective. Prayer also serves as a form of meditation, chottey."

Arnav absorbed his dadi's words with keen attention. He respected her wisdom, knowing well that she wouldn't indulge in superstition but rather, could connect every belief to science. Nodding in agreement, he remarked, "Right, and meditation is beneficial for mental health."

Subadra's smile was a tender beacon as she pressed a kiss to Arnav's forehead, her voice a soothing murmur, "Right. As for your second question, what do I pray for? I offer my gratitude daily for the gift of life, surrounded by beautiful souls like my son and grandson. For the chance to witness this magnificent world and for the health and happiness of my loved ones. Chottey, there's an energy in our world that's beyond our grasp, and I pray to that force—though people may call it by different names."