Rudradev Rathore was born with a unique psychic power, the ability to witness anyone's past life. He knew he had been the notorious King Agrim Bhairav Rathore, an ancestor, who killed his beloved wife all for his greed to annex her kingdom.
Her bea...
Rudra had an abnormal talent of disguise. He blamed it on Bhairav. The guy used to disguise as a random commoner to check the administration behind his back.
The bane of mankind.
View of lovestruck puppies buying gifts, the majnus in love, teen girls admiring trendy dresses displayed through transparent glass, these all were grade ten annoying moments. He looked away from their hopeful eyes, of youngsters laughing at cringe jokes of their friends. Domesticity was never comfortable, let alone of other people.
However if he wanted to observe how the mall was running, the true colours of management, he needed to saunter in the space of openness. Rathore business was extended to retail industry as well, courtesy of his youngest brother. Usually Abhi would be the one checking the mall however a few paperworks needed to be urgently handled by him at the last minute.
Thus there Rudra was, strolling around in a casual but not so cheap white tee over khaki cargo pants. He walked, a mask hiding his face as he occasionally coughed to stress his fake cold further.
In a word it was clear, he was annoyed.
***
Thanks to applying a medical leave attested with hospital reports to HR, Bhavani had one more day off.
He had arrived at the mall in hopes of replacing his martyr office shirt by an apt one. Scrunched up nose in distaste, he was deciding between very despairing choices. If he chose the affordable price, the colour was pastel peach aka never should be opted by men. If he chose the love of all men as in colour grey, how was he supposed to survive the heart attack that came with dangling price tag?
The hustle around him shifted his focus back to the men' clothing section. He sighed at the woes of a common man.
I am between a pastel devil and costly sea.
***
A sense of dread settled in Rudra's gut. Something was going to be wrong. He was frowning when fire alarms went off.
Fuck no.
***
It took Bhavani more than half an hour to decide. The commitment was chosen. There was a limit to his pinchpenny lifestyle thus grey it was. He mentally expressed his gratitude to the goddess for keeping his bank balance intact even after such an expensive evening. Just when he turned around, two sorts of alarms went off simultaneously.
First was a supernatural one, somewhere in his mind. Devi had begun to awaken in him. A thousand temple bells and roar of a lion dulled the external environment. It was unexpected.
Second was a physical one. All fire alarms went off madly.
People panicked. Their frantic rushed footsteps began to evacuate the fourth floor. He was following them as smog filled the air. His eyes teared up, lungs gasped for air as blood rushed in his ears.
However the first wave of trance hit him. It dulled the amber of closing fire. His feet planted firmly on the ground, body refusing to cooperate. His surroundings became a slow motion movie he couldn't wake up from. Despite the hot ashy air, his body was calm. The first of flames were catching on the changing stalls on his left.
He forced himself to gather all of his will power and escape the fire lit disaster. His attempts were in vain though. The burning heat was turning as cold as ice. Flames felt like kisses of a bygone past he couldn't quite put a finger on. It should had been terrifying. Strangely it was not.
It was a beautiful tragedy.
A captivating mystery.
A tempting disaster.
His maternal lineage had a belief. The goddess protected the one whose body she used for manifestation. The physical body would turn to a shrine, a temple of supernatural for the human prosperity. The protection was her burden to bear. Unless she was so pleased to call back the soul to her home as in death.
He fell on his knees. Her weight was boring on his fragile shoulders. There was a tranquil bliss, the one where he was away from the greed for life and fear of death. The orange at the back of his mind blinded his vision. For the divine goddess who believed death was a liberation, anyone else would assume his time was up.
However he knew better. She was using him for a purpose. To call someone to her.
And..
He felt the person approaching him, crossing the fire of not only the visible realm but also forbidden from the shadows. The one tried to shake him awake. Bhavani witnessed it all through his closed eyes. He felt his mortal form being scooped up as the safety washed over him.
He was breathing slowly until she overtook him again. This time he had to give in.
To her.
***
When his vision was restored, he found himself at the familiar place. From the golden sky and its shimmering reflection on the trinkling river in far, he knew he was in her realm.
He looked at his clothes. They were a shade of auspicious red. He was laden with golden jewellery. It meant one thing. He was a temporary guest for now. He glanced at the penance of late harbourers of manifestation. They wore sober white unlike him who was in red, a sign of a live entity.
The set of steps leading down to the holy river were extending up to the threshold of an intricately constructed ancient temple behind him. He was on the landing for now. At loss of why he was summoned here?
Just when he turned around, the doors of divine parted open at an agonisingly slow rate. The blinding yellow light that shone through the slits was full of divine ecstasy. It basked him like a mother wrapped a child in her arms, tucking him away from the sorrows.
The urge to worship her and leave behind the mortals had overpowered his logical mind. Cycles of life and death were a game when he was spiritually awakened, like in the moment. He was a fragment of divine energy, born out of her, connected to her through invisible threads that seemed to cross him thoroughly.
How was he then supposed to disregard the desire to worship it? How was anything else other than Bhagvati Devi supposed to provide him solace?
Seconds later, the graceful yellow began to turn to white. Tears fell from his eyes. He smiled when his vision began to go absolute white.
His soul whisked towards the light of highest happiness like ash. He was reaching a world from where he would need to harshly plummet to the world of living.
Such a tragedy. Indeed.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
