DaanveerPutri

Revitalizing in Brajesha's Reminiscence

Hesitancy flashed across the pristine features of Dhananjaya's youngest, as her arched eyebrows scrunched together, and two pearly white teeth nibbled at the satiny skin of her lower, rosy lip.

"I'm not so sure about this, Madhava..."

A mischievous smirk lifted the cheeks of Krishna, as he observed his dear Priya Sakhi, crouched by him, atop her cotton lehenga-covered knees. Hidden well behind a stack of hay, concealing the pair of mischief-makers from the eyes of the many Yadava women.

Eyeing the rounded grey pebble, clasped securely between her partner's fingertips, Mitra watched with caution as uncertainty clouded the golden skin housing her ever-sharp features, magnified by the afternoon rays of Suryadev, filtering through the gaps of the stratocumulus work of Indradev's magic. Playfully attempting to veil the chaste mischief of their shared grandchild, much to the dismay of the former.

"I thought you desired makhan, Priya," smirked Krishna.

Mitra raised her eyebrows at her Sakha, as she observed him silently chuckle behind the reddened palm shielding his rosebud lips.

She briefly remembered her Aunt Jambavati asking her this morning if she would like to taste some freshly churned Dwarakan butter. Yet, not even a syllable slipped the smiling lips of Karna Nandini before the troublesome prankster, come King of the palace, had steered her away from the grand kitchens and towards the gateways, citing he would obtain fresh butter for her. A confused Mitra had remained silent, yet curious as she witnessed the Yadava Shreshta shake his head, with an exasperated sigh while regarding his younger brother with a reprimanding look.

"For heaven's sake Kanha, you're the leader of this Kingdom! You do remember that right?"

To which her Natkhat had just laughed, the ethereal music effortlessly tugging at the lips of the mighty Haladhara, Maatha Subhadra and the remaining prestigious Queens of the Yadava Dynasty, as it without a doubt swelled their hearts with love.

"Always a young cowherd at heart, Dau!" Gopala had chuckled in response, as he swiftly guided away a bewildered Mitra, who struggled to paste the pieces of the puzzle together.

And now, with her eyes gawking at his sweat-dotted fingertips gripping the fortunate pebble, and her inability to shift her sand-adhered limbs into a more comfortable posture behind their current place of concealment, she glared wholeheartedly at her Shyamal-coloured best friend; the puzzle now securely pieced together.

"I promised you we'll obtain some makhan, didn't I?" questioned Manmohana, his tone dripping with the sweet innocence, which never failed to be feigned, nor charm the hearts it was directed at. "What form of example would I be if I failed to keep my word?"

"Of course, you did. And I'm sure you just conveniently refrained from conveying the basic part of this particular transaction... the fact that we won't be purchasing or making any ourselves, but rather 'STEALING' it!"

"Stolen butter has a splendid taste of its own, my dearest," chuckled Krishna, as he cautiously poked his head over the straws of hay towards the hanging goal of his mischief.

The golden rays of Surya Narayana bounced off the jeweled headband, the reflection of the glare ricocheting off the swivels of the rich, raven-black tresses – splayed generously atop and around his broad shoulders. The silkiness of the locks, a texture unfelt by any till day, bowed low in respect to the satin-smoothness of the conch-like neck of the bluish-black hued Keshava, they dreamt of caressing. The single morpankh, resting atop the glistening, lone 'Manikam' gem adorning the right of the vaidurya-stone lined band, swayed gently along with the thin afternoon breeze, that blew as per the mercy of the winds, amidst the hot summer afternoons surging across the many lands of Aaryavarta.