Chapter 65: Chapter 63: Haldi Ceremony... Gandhari Receives Devara’s Gift...
(A/N):
Drop a
here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
-------------------------------------------------
After 15 minutes...
The new chamber did not feel unfamiliar which was given to him since the previous one is still out of order to be used again due to his art.
This new one. It felt... prepared.
Garnts lay waiting—soft, light, touched with a quiet elegance.
Ornants rested beside them—not heavy with power, but refined, deliberate.
Gifts from his mothers Goddess Ganga and Goddess Bhudevi
Devara dressed without hurry while humming lightly.
Today was not for armor. Not for battle.
Today—Was ritual Haldi ceremony.
When he stepped out, the courtyard had already transford.
The Haldi ceremony began.
The golden paste—turric, oil, and water—glowed like sunlight held in human hands.
First—His mothers.
Goddess Ganga stepped forward, her touch gentle as flowing water.
Goddess Bhudevi followed, her hand steady, grounding.
Turric marked his face.
Not just for beauty.
For blessing. For protection. For transition.
Then—Rajmata Satyavati
She hesitated. Just a fraction.
But Devara has insisted them to do the cermoney.
Followed by Ambika and Ambalika
They looked unsure.
Not distant—But uncertain of their place.
Devara simply smiled. And insisted.
That was enough. They stepped forward. And joined.
The paste touched his skin again.
This ti carrying sothing different—Acceptance.
Then ca Madri
Her touch light. Thoughtful as she did her turn.
And then—The n since now it was their turn.
Bhishma, Vidura, Dhritarashtra
Less delicate. More direct instead of applying they were scoping and pasting it on his face.
A warrior’s blessing.
Laughter followed by it.
-Hahaha!!!
Guests joined in seeing Devara’s reaction as his face was covered fully in turric paste.
Hands marked him again and again.
Gold over skin. Gold over presence.
But Devara’s attention—Was elsewhere.
"...."
At the edge of the gathering.
A group stood.
Quiet. Watching everything. Smiling at him.
Their forms—Disguised. Perfectly. To everyone else.
But not to him.
Because disguise—Works only on those who look with eyes.
Not on those who know.
Lord Shiva, Goddess Parvati. Lord Vishnu, Goddess Lakshmi, Lord Brahma, Goddess Saraswati were the one in the group.
The Trimurti. And Their consorts.
Not as rulers of existence. As... parents.
Beside them—Kartikeya and Ganesha
And three young figures—Their sisters.
Watching him. Curious. asuring as if they had found sothing new to ss with.
Their little brother.
Devara’s gaze t theirs.
"...."
The laughter of the Haldi courtyard softened as the last of the guests stepped back.
Golden traces shimred across Devara’s skin—layer upon layer of blessing, touch, and belonging.
And yet—His gaze remained fixed.
"...."
At the edge of the gathering.
Where they stood. Watching. Smiling. Waiting.
Devara rose slightly from his seat.
Not abruptly. Not dramatically.
With quiet intent.
And then—He spoke.
"Please..."
A small pause.
"...co forward."
No nas. No titles. Just respect.
For a brief mont—The group stilled hearing his request.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because the invitation carried aning.
He had seen them. Recognized them.
And yet—He chose silence.
Acknowledgnt without revelation. A delicate balance.
Then—They stepped forward.
One by one.
Lord Brahma first he stepped forward.
A calm presence. asured.
His hand touched Devara’s forehead lightly—Applying turric with the gentleness of creation itself.
"May you understand what you build."
Then—Lord Vishnu With A steady gaze. A quiet smile.
"May you protect what you choose."
Goddess Lakshmi followed—Her touch warm, graceful.
"May your ho never know emptiness."
Goddess Saraswati—Light, precise.
"May your words never fail those who trust them."
Then—Lord Shiva.
He did not speak imdiately.
His fingers marked Devara’s cheek with turric.
A faint smile—Barely there.
"Walk your path."
Simple. Because nothing more needed to be said.
Beside him—Goddess Parvati
Her touch lingered a mont longer.
"Protect what you love."
A mother’s blessing.
Then—Kartikeya
A firm, almost playful strike of turric across his shoulder.
"Don’t lose your edge."
Ganesha. A grin spread across his face. A soft pat on Devara’s shoulders.
-Grin!
"And try not to break too many things."
A few quiet chuckles slipped through the air.
-Chuckle!
Then—The three sisters.
They stepped forward together.
Still curious. Still observing about their new brother.
Each placed a small mark of turric.
Not heavy. Not formal. But... personal.
As if confirming sothing.
Yes.
This was him. Their brother.
When they stepped back—The mont dissolved.
To others—It was just another group of guests offering blessings.
Nothing unusual. Nothing divine.
But to Devara—It ant sothing else entirely.
Because in that single mont—He had stood between worlds.
The golden laughter of the groom’s courtyard slowly drifted away—Carried in trays, in songs, in blessings—Toward another heart of the palace.
Because now—It was her turn. Bride’s turn.
Gandhari sat gracefully at the center. Her hands still carried the intricate hendi.
Her face—Calm.
But glowing with sothing deeper than ritual.
The turric from Devara’s side had arrived.
Warm. Blessed. The ceremony continued.
First—Her mother. Hands gentle as he did the start of the cermoney.
Touch lingering just a little longer than tradition required.
A mother’s silent prayer.
"...."
Then—Subala
A king. A father. His hand was firm.
But his eyes—Softened.
Because this was not politics. This was... letting go.
Then—Her brothers. One by one.
Each with a different touch.
A different smile. A different way of hiding what they felt.
So teased. So laughed. So stayed quiet thinking their sister is going to leave their kingdom soon.
But all—Left their mark.
And then—The last one’s turn arrived.
Prince Shakuni The youngest of the princes of Gandhara.
He stepped forward. For once—No smirk on his face which he would usual have to tease his little sister.
No playful remark. Just... stillness.
By the weight in his shoulders as his mind was filled by the thought of his sister is going to leave their palace soon.
Gandhari looked up at him. A faint smile adorned on his face.
"Why so serious, brother?"
Prince Shakuni exhaled lightly.
"...Because this part isn’t a ga."
A rare honesty. He dipped his fingers into the turric.
And gently—Placed it on her cheek.
Not hurried. Not teasing. Careful.
As if morizing the mont in his mind.
"...Don’t forget us."
The words ca softer than expected.
Gandhari’s smile didn’t fade.
"I won’t."
A pause.
"And you don’t forget to behave."
That earned a faint chuckle.
-Chuckle!
The tension broke. Just enough.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Prince Shakuni stepped back.
And with that—The Haldi ceremony on the bride’s side ca to its close after the guest on their side finished their blessing.
The courtyard filled again with music. With laughter. With movent.
But beneath it—A quiet truth settled as soon their princess will go to the another kingdom as a queen.
The ceremony had just begun to dissolve into laughter and movent—When sothing unusual entered.
A female royal guard stepped forward, carrying a bouquet.
Not ordinary. Not arranged by any royal florist.
But alive in a way that drew every eye in the room.
Ten flowers which they have never looked.
Ten colors.
Each one unfamiliar. Each one impossibly perfect.
A hush fell.
"...Where did that co from?"
One of her brothers whispered curiously.
But no one answered.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because all attention had shifted to—Princess Gandhari
She accepted the bouquet slowly. Almost carefully.
She knew it was one of her request which got fullfilled.
As if afraid it might disappear if held too tightly.
Then—She noticed the scroll. A small one.
Which Tied gently between the stems.
She untied it slowly while others waiting for what was written on it.
Opened it. And read what was written inside.
Scroll Content...
"Not from gardens walked by n,
Nor from fields where seasons bend,
These blooms were born where silence grew—
The mont water rembered you.
Ten colors, yet none can compare,
To the quiet glow you carry unaware.
For even dawn, in all its grace,
Learns gentleness from your face.
If beauty were a fleeting art,
You would be its steady heart.
If love were a path unseen—
You would be where it has been.
So co where still waters keep
The secrets that the world can’t keep—
And beneath their quiet, waiting hue,
You’ll find a gift... that belongs to you."
Scroll Content ended...
The room remained silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Not because they didn’t understand—But because they did.
Gandhari’s fingers tightened slightly around the scroll.
A faint blush touched her cheeks as she had read the content loudly.
"...He wrote this?"
One of her brothers leaned in.
"...He writes too? Your taste seems good them ..."
Which he received a punch by his wife on his hand. Which earned him a chuckle from everyone.
-Chuckles!
Prince Shakuni folded his arms, a smirk returning.
-Smirk!
"...Of course he does."
But even he looked impressed by the phrasing of those words.
Gandhari read the last lines again.
"Co where still waters keep..."
Her eyes lifted slightly thinking.
"...."
About The pond. The sa place. Where she had playfully sparkled water on Devara’s face.
Her curiosity sparked instantly.
"...A surprise?"
Now that—Was dangerous when it cos from Devara.
Because curiosity, once awakened—Does not sit quietly.
She stood up slowly.
Still holding the bouquet. Still holding the scroll.
And sowhere beneath her calm—Excitent began to bloom.
Because this was no longer just a ritual exchange.
It was personal.
And whatever waited beneath that water—Had been made... For her in the na of the love she and he share.
The courtyard still humd with celebration—But Gandhari had already slipped away from it.
No hesitation. No second thought.
"Guard the pond,"
She ordered lightly, already moving.
Because curiosity—When mixed with affection—Doesn’t wait for permission.
She arrived at the location.
The sa place. The sa water.
But sothing about it... felt different.
The surface shimred more vividly.
The breeze carried a softer scent.
And without pause—She stepped in.
Then—Jumped into the stilled water.
The water embraced her—Cool. Clear. Alive.
She swam deeper into the pond.
And then—She saw it. Not just flowers.
An entire garden.
Blooming beneath the water. Colors she had never seen.
Petals that shimred like light caught in motion.
Soft currents moving them like they were breathing.
It didn’t feel like a pond anymore. It felt like...
Sothing sacred. Sothing made—Not for the world.
But for a mont. For her.
Her eyes widened.Her movents slowed.
She forgot. Forgot to move. Forgot to think.
Even forgot—That she was holding her breathing.
And then—Reality tugged her back.
She rushed upward.
Breaking the surface—Gasping.
-Gasp!
Air filled her lungs again.
But her heart—Was still down there.
Her cheeks flushed softly. Not from the water.
"...."
From what she had just seen.
"...He did this... no our love did this..."
The words barely escaped her.
She looked back at the surface—As if expecting it to disappear.
But it didn’t. It remained.
Waiting. Her lips curved into a smile.
"...."
Not wide. Not loud. But real.
Because this—Was not just a gift.
It was effort of their love. Understanding.
And sothing else—Sothing deeper.
He hadn’t just brought her flowers.
He had created a place with their love—Where those flowers could live.
For her.
Gandhari pressed the bouquet gently against her chest which she was still holding in her hands.
"...."
*******************************
(Author note:)
I hope you guys give
your opinion and idea’s.
-->
Don’t forget to review guys...
Reviews
All reviews (0)