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.
What justice could words do to the beautiful Sri Mahalakshmi who could steal the heart of even Hrishikesha?
"Jagadambe!!!" He exclaimed and fell over to his knees, "Sri Vaikuntheshwari Sharana..." Then fell down at her feet almost laying down to the ground.
"Saami!!!" The Chenchus exclaimed. It was an extremely vile thing to have a sanyaasi bow down to any human. That's what the Chenchus had always learnt. To have a sanyaasi bow down to one of their own, it was unheard of.
Chenchita smiled at the sanyaasi when he stood up. "You have come at my door. Let me offer you something. I am aware that you will not eat before taking darshan of Swami." She said.
He chuckled. "Your compassionate glance is enough to give everyone all of ashta aishwarya. All I ask for is moksha, Amma. What else can a sanyaasi ask for?" He exclaimed.
Chenchita gave a smile. She should have known better. She turned around and looked at the hill. She led him ahead into the caves towards Narasimha.
The sanyaasi watched her footprints on the soil as she walked ahead. He smiled at those footprints.
Just as all the hunters watched, the soil turned into stone and formed stairs. As if the earth listened to her order to make the way easier for the sanyaasi. To clear the hard path and make stairs. It shocked them all. Never had they seen such miracles.
The footprints were still left on them. The sanyaasi touched each single footstep, touched his chest and offered namaskara to the Goddess walking ahead of him.
Never had the tribe seen miracles done by the girl they considered their own. The girl they grew up with. A sanyaasi called her Jagadamba and touched her footsteps like they were most holiest things he had seen. They all joined their hands to the figure walking ahead of them all.
"Deva, while you are walking behind, let me know that you are following." Chenchita told him. It wasn't a forest girl who spoke. The Goddess had ordered him. "I hear that you have a sweet voice."
"Maataagya Vedai." He exclaimed and started singing a song in praise of her. "Sri Vaikuntheshwari Kamala Kaarunyarupavalli... Sri Vaikuntheshwari Kamala Kaarunyarupavalli..."
"Jagadaika para shakti aadi Mahalakshmi.... Jagadaika para shakti aadi Mahalakshmi..."
"Keshavapranapriya Moksha pradayani... Keshavapranapriya Moksha pradayani..."
He praised her through the path ahead. They finally reached the cave where Narasimha was meditating.
The sanyaasi fell before Narasimha. "Swami!!" He exclaimed. Even with how the devotee was over flowing with joy, Narasimha didn't seem to take notice at all.
The sanyaasi waited for a while but still the lord didn't offer the fortune to set his sight on the devotee.
"Has this devotee of your strayed from devotion Swami that you refuse to bless me with netra darshana?" He asked. "Swami..."
"Bhaktavatsala Sri Narasimha, Jwala Sri Narasimha, Narayana Hari Narayana..."
"Mantra Sri rajaraje, Trimurthi vandite. Nara Keshava Ranga, Narayana Hari Narayana..."
There was still no response. The sanyaasi couldn't understand. The Swami had been known to be playing tala when the gandharvas played music to please him. Yet, when he was singing, Sri Narasimha didn't respond.
He walked closed and touched the Mruga Hari's feet. Touching his own head with the lotus feet.
"Swami..." The sanyaasi tried to call.
The response was a warning growl. The devotee moved a good feet back. Holding the danda, he sat down trying to understand the game Narayana had decided to play.
"Swami" Chenchita walked ahead towards Narasimha.
Seeing her, he finally understood. How would Narasimha respond with the Sri with Narasimha. They were addressing him as Sri Hari, Sri Narasimha but there was no Sri near him. He was sitting there within himself. The Sri who resides within his chest had to remind him to sometime exist his own paramananda and listen to all those before him. The nature of paramananda is such that one doesn't wish to exist it. The paramananda within Yoga is such.
"Swami, do open your eyes and see, your beloved bride is before your eyes. What sight is more beloved to you? Oh, Madhava, aren't your eyes red from watch the red Mahalakshmi? Now, when your Ma stands before you, why do keep your eyes closed? Oh, Sripathi, how fair is it that your lotus eyes even refuse to see the golden empress of Vaikuntha? Oh, Radhikapathi, what rasa is more beloved to you than her the sight of komalangi?" He asked Narasimha. Turning from Narasimha, he saw Chenchita.
"What words can praise you, oh Jagadeswari? It is surely the fault of your husband that the whole world accuses you as Chanchala. He made you his wife and made you the Queen of his home, how can you leave your home unattended. Neither does easily come into hands of humans, nor does he allow you to leave his home for long. Surely, there is no one more miser than him. Instead of freely giving away aishwarya to everyone, he had captured your within his chest and keeps your there. Then again, who would ever be able to abandon you once they have experienced the compassion of Mahalakshmi. Only a fool would decide to keep Mahalakshmi away from themselves." He praised her. "Is there any doubt that only you have the complete supremacy over him? He carried the whole of Mandara over his back to pull you out of Ksheera Sagara. He holds you over his tusks, holding you above his own head."
Chenchita chuckled at that.
"Well, all that sounds good to hear but it is just empty words. After all, the beast rather finds his rage and his meditation more loving than his own bride." She laughed.