The Rathore's And Their Wives(the Untold Tales Of Power And Passion

Death anniversary

As I slowly turned around, my heart pounding in my chest, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when I saw who it was. Pandit ji. For a moment, I had feared it would be someone else. Anyone else. But seeing him, with his calm and reassuring presence, made me feel safe.

I immediately bent down, touching his feet to take his blessings. There’s something so comforting in that simple gesture, as if for a moment, the weight I carry becomes lighter. His hand gently rested on my head, and I felt a sense of peace wash over me.

"Meera beta," he said, his voice filled with warmth, "tu itni din baad aayi hai... mandir aana kyun band kar diya?"

Hearing that question made my heart sink a little. It’s not that I didn’t want to come... God knows how much I long to be here. I hesitated for a second, trying to find the right words. .

"Nahi, Pandit ji... woh... mandir thoda door hai na, isliye," I mumbled, trying to sound casual. But I knew he could see through me.

I continued, "Chachi ji meri suraksha ke liye chinta karti rehti hain... toh isliye mai unhe zyada meri chinta na ho, bolke nahi aati hoon." I didn’t want to burden them with my presence, or worse, give anyone a reason to ask questions.
Pandit ji’s eyes softened as he watched me, probably reading the emotions I was trying so hard to hide.

He sighed, as if understanding all the things I hadn’t said out loud. "Koi na, beta," he said kindly, "lekin tu aaj aayi hai, toh bachchon ko thoda dekhi gi? Woh bahut dinon se teri raah dekh rahe hain. Tujhe yaad karte hain."

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the little ones. "Woh tujhe bahut yaad karte hain. Kuch din pehle toh Vishnu tujhe yaad karke ro pada," Pandit ji added, shaking his head with a chuckle.

That pulled at my heartstrings. Little Vishnu… he’s always so eager to learn, so full of life. I could already picture his innocent face, probably wondering why I had stayed away for so long. How could I not melt at that?

"Mai aati hoon, Pandit ji," I reassured him, my voice soft. "Mai pehle apni prayer khatam kar loon, phir bachchon ke paas hi jaane wali thi. Aap chinta na karein, mai dekh lungi unko."

Pandit ji smiled, clearly pleased, and patted my shoulder gently before walking away. I stood there for a moment, watching him leave, before I turned back to face the idol in front of me. My heart felt lighter now, knowing that soon, I’d be surrounded by the laughter and joy of the children. At least for a little while, I could forget everything else.

But deep down, there was still that heaviness... that constant reminder that even though I could escape to the temple for a few moments of peace, my reality would always be waiting for me back home.

After finishing my prayer, I quietly made my way to the large peepal tree beside the temple. This tree had always been my sanctuary. I sat down, leaning my back against the trunk, and let out a long breath.

The wind gently brushed against my face, kissing my cheeks as if comforting me. For a moment, it felt like I was no longer part of this world, the cruel world that surrounded me. It felt like I had entered a dream—a place where there was no pain, no fear, no loneliness. Just peace.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Maa, Baba... I'm sorry. Maine aaj phir bht kuch bol diya aap dono ko. Mujhe aise nahi kehna chahiye tha." My voice cracked slightly, but I tried to hold back the tears. I didn’t want to cry anymore; it felt like I had no tears left. But the words kept coming.

"But still... I'm sorry. And don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Haan, yahan aapke bina jeena thoda mushkil hai, but I’m managing."

It’s strange, isn’t it? I talk to them like they’re still here, like they can hear me. Maybe they can. I always feel their presence around me, like they’re watching over me.