🥇in lakshmi🥇in laxminarayan..
In Vaikuntha she is Narayan's Sri; on Prithvilok, she is Krishna's Devashree
Call them Krishna and Devashree or Narayan and Lakshmi; both are as eternal as time. Experience their joy and pain by accompanying them in t...
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DEVASHREE SAT SILENTLY BY KRISHNA'S SIDE, her face pale from exhaustion, her eyes red and swollen. She had spent the entire night painstakingly collecting milk from her breasts, storing it in small earthen containers for her infant son, Pradyumna.
She gently placed the last container on a tray and then changed her attire into a simpler one. A plain blue saree and no ornaments. Only the ring Krishna had given her.
The door creaked open, and Devaki entered, carrying little Pradyumna in her arms, now wide awake. The child's face lit up at the sight of his mother, and he squealed with delight, stretching his chubby arms toward her. Devashree's exhaustion melted momentarily as she smiled, taking her son into her arms.
"My sweet Tanu," she whispered, pressing kisses all over his face. Pradyumna giggled—his laughter like a balm to her aching heart.
"You've been up all night, haven't you, Putri Devashree? Your eyes tell the story."
Devashree chuckled softly, though her voice was tinged with weariness. "A mother's duty never ends, Mata. I wanted to ensure my son has everything he needs while I'm away. I have prepared everything. Here are all the medicines Swami is currently prescribed. This one is for his fever, and this for the pain. Make sure he takes them on time, Mata. And... ensure he eats, even if it's just a little." She gestured to a neatly organized array of small jars and scrolls on a nearby table. "I have explained the dosages to the attendants. I've also stored enough milk for Pradyumna. He will not go hungry. And I will come back soon."
Gently placing Pradyumna on the mat on the floor, Devashree handed him a small wooden toy. "Be good for everyone, okay, Tanu?" she said, her voice breaking slightly as she kissed his forehead one last time
"You've thought of everything, but who will ensure that you rest, Putri?"
"I'll rest when my Swami is well again," she said softly, brushing a stray curl from her son's forehead. Then she turned back to Devaki with a half-teasing, half-serious tone.
"And you, Mata—you must take care of yourself too. I've instructed the attendants to bring you food on time. If I find out you've neglected your health, I'll complain to Pitashree—and to Swami when he's awake!"
Devaki reached out to clasp Devashree's hand. "You don't have to do this. Krishna is recovering, isn't he? Can't you see how far he's come?"
"Mata, he hasn't left this chamber in a month," Devashree replied, her voice tinged with frustration and sorrow. "His strength is fading, and the people are beginning to talk. Something must be done before rumors spread further."
"But Putri," Devaki pressed, "I've seen signs of his recovery. Just yesterday, I noticed his chest was clear—those terrible boils were gone!"
Devashree stiffened at the mention of the boils. Her gaze flickered to Krishna, her husband who lay unconscious, his face pale but serene. She moved closer, pulling the blanket down slightly to reveal his chest. It was true—the boils were no longer visible.
