KRISHAVYAYAM

33. Breathing Deceased

Her head spun violently and eyes were as if herculean hills settled upon them. The laboured breaths were only much more ragged and racing this time. And before she could even raise a voice for some sort of aid in this mien, an unending darkness took over her vision. Kamalnayani felt losing touch with the reality with every passing moment as her body fell completely limp, a peaceful slumber inviting her.

The faint wisps of smoke and clouds in her sweven and nightmare were ethereal. She rubbed her eyes, finding herself levitating above similar ivory messangers of rain as she stressed her wits to recognise this place. After what felt like an eternity, her vision ceased betraying her. The vista of an ornate terracotta villa came up, and she recognised it to be her natal home.

"Hey little one," a sweet male baritone called from behind, causing her to whisk around in terror. Krisha's eyes widened momentarily as she immediately folded her hands in deference.

"Pita?"

Drupada smiled, his figure containing a certain celestial aura which wasn't possible in a living mortal. She reckoned the involvement of divinity in this place. She had just fallen into unconsciousness back at her home and now. . . she scratched her nape and gulped in trepidation as her father opened his arms wide, beckoning her in.

"Do you really think I deserve your love, Pita?" She said in a small voice, looking so defeated it hurt him endlessly. The vivacity of her demeanour was replaced by an endless pit of emptiness, everything seeming like a weight on her chest but her father's prompt response did not quiver.

"Always, without a doubt and no matter what."

She rushed to him at once, throwing her arms around him as he staggered a few steps back and chuckled, cradling his little one in his robust arms.

"Where am I?"

"Your soul or your body?" Drupada raised an eyebrow, thoroughly miffed at this adorable piece of frustration named his daughter. Kamalnayani audibly gasped in horror.

"Both, I guess?"

"Body is still in your room with JamataShree, and soul is in Panchala, my darling," he cooed, lovingly caressing her loose and dishevelled hair as she hummed distractedly, trying to make sense of the information given to her.  

"Home. . ." She wryly chuckled, Drupada's heart spasmed at the bitterness her voice uttered as she raised her arms and let them fall languidly on her sides. "I don't really have one. Anyway, how is it possible that my body and soul are at two different places unless the fact that I have died?"

"Absolutely not, sweetheart, you aren't dead. It's just that, Maharshi Durvasa knows this unfortunate incident and helped us a little." Imposed a voice, interrupting their discourse as the person made a grand appearance.

Her mother was just like the last time her eyes laid themselves on her, just a few fine lines were creasing her forehead adorned with a maangteeka. Prishati sported a bright red saree, her honey skin carrying features as sharp as the flames and her aura screamed authority and power.

Kamalnayani's breath hitched as she stumbled a few steps in disbelief, "Hello, Laado. How long since I last saw you. Miss me?" The queen of Panchala grew a broad grin, taking pleasure in how she had driven her daughter speechless by her uncalled and unexpected appearance.