Inseparable Souls

Chapter 2

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As Shree finished her prayer, she touched the priest's feet and said, "Your voice is magical. The love and innocence in your devotion make your music extraordinary. I’m certain your prayers have reached Lord Krishna. May He fulfill all your wishes." The priest smiled and blessed her.

"I don’t know if He hears my prayers, but I have unwavering faith in my Kanhaa," Shree replied, her eyes glistening with emotion.

"My daughter, perhaps Lord Krishna has something significant in store for you. I believe He will soon come to chase away the darkness in your life and become your guiding light. I feel like your savior is near," the priest said gently, a warm smile on his face.

"It's too late!" Shree said, her expression one of despair.

"You need to get home before your father comes looking for you," the priest advised.

Shree bowed before the idol of Lord Krishna one last time, whispering, "Kanha, my fate lies in Your hands."

As she turned to leave, she remained unaware that someone was watching her.

Abhivayakt tried to approach her, but it was too late; she was already gone.

He went to the priest, eager to ask about her. "The girl who was singing earlier—who is she?"

"Her name is Shree," the priest replied. "She has such a pure soul and comes here daily to pray, but sadly, she won’t be coming anymore."

"Why not? What happened?" Abhivayakt inquired.

The priest sighed, his expression somber. "She is getting married today."

"What? But she looks so young!" Abhivayakt exclaimed, disbelief written all over his face.

"Her beauty has become a burden for her," the priest lamented.

"Is someone forcing her into this marriage? Tell me! Maybe I can help her," Abhivayakt urged, frowning.

"Only Lord Krishna can help her," the priest replied with a heavy sigh.

"She can't solely rely on Lord Krishna, because God helps those who help themselves," Abhivayakt retorted, frustration coloring his tone.

The priest chuckled sarcastically. "You’re right! Our actions determine our futures. Lord Krishna stated in the second chapter, verse 47 of the Gita that 'You have authority over your actions, but not over the results of those actions. Therefore, do not become attached to the results of your actions.'"

"How does that verse relate to her situation?" Abhivayakt asked, a skeptical look on his face.

"She is doing her part and leaving the rest to the Almighty," the priest explained.

"And how is marrying someone her way of doing that?” Abhivayakt asked mockingly.

"Does she even understand what she's doing?" he added incredulity in his voice.

"She is the most naive person I have ever encountered," Abhivayakt declared.

"Seems like her innocence has touched your heart," the priest noted with a knowing smile. His words struck a nerve, leaving Abhivayakt at a loss for a response, as there was a semblance of truth to them.

"She’s just a young girl, and I’m a mature man. We are worlds apart," Abhivayakt said, trying to soothe his troubled heart.

"I never said you were in love with her," the priest remarked, a gentle smile gracing his face.

"This is all nonsense. I already have a fiancée, and she's far more beautiful and wise than she is. My commitment to her is genuine," Abhivayakt protested.

"Yet, I don't see sincerity in your eyes when you speak of your fiancée. You may deceive others, but your eyes reveal the truth," the priest replied, bowing before the idol of Lord Krishna.

"I’m not lying, and I don’t feel the need to prove anything to you," Abhivayakt stated firmly, turning to leave.

"Remember! You can’t lie to yourself,” the priest called after him. Abhivayakt paused for a moment, unsure why the priest’s words unsettled him.

He clenched his fists, vowing not to think about that girl any longer, blaming her for the emotional turmoil inside him.

...

Upon arriving home, Shree found her father waiting for her at the doorway, his expression furious.

"Father! I went to the temple to pray," Shree stammered, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm.

"You disobedient daughter! I told you not to leave the house. How dare you disrespect me?" Shreeman shouted as he slapped Shree.

Her fair skin flushed red. "Dad! You know I always go to the temple to pray," Shree sobbed.

"But now it's irrelevant! Get ready, for Raja Sahab's servants are coming to court you," Shreeman declared.

Shree shook her head in disdain and retreated to her room, where her friends awaited her to help prepare for the wedding.

"Oh, our bride has arrived! Shree, you are so lucky to have caught the eye of King Abhimanyu, especially as a girl of such low status," Mala, Shree's cousin, remarked, jealousy evident in her tone; she often felt overshadowed by Shree’s achievements.

"I leave my fate in the hands of Lord Krishna," Shree said, offering a warm smile.

"Come on, Shree! Let’s do your makeup," Garima, another friend, said as she guided Shree to sit in front of the mirror.

"What happened to your cheek? It looks swollen," Garima asked, gasping in surprise.

"It's nothing! Do you know how clumsy I am? I tripped on the temple stairs, and that’s how I bruised my cheek," Shree fibbed.

"Don’t lie! She offended Uncle with her behavior again, so of course, she got slapped. She deserves it," Mala interjected bitterly.

"Mala! Watch your words! It’s her big day; at least be kind," Garima chastised.

"What I said is true! She’s a jinx and a disgrace who seduces wealthy men to climb the social ladder," Mala sneered.

"Mala!!" Before Garima could say more, Shree squeezed her hand and said, "He's my father; he has a right over me. I don’t feel sad—after all, he is my only family." Shree managed a smile.

"Shree, you’re incredible; this world isn’t built for someone like you," Garima said, lovingly caressing Shree’s cheek.

"Now, can you help me get ready?" Shree asked.

"Absolutely! You will be the most beautiful bride in the world," Garima replied, beginning to comb Shree's long hair.

................................

"Where have you been all morning, Abhivayakt?" Madhurima asked, her face twisted in annoyance.

"I stepped out to relive some childhood memories. I'm sorry for not informing anyone," Abhivayakt replied apologetically.

"That's alright! Brother-in-law wanted to see you," Madhurima said.

"Thanks, Madhurima," Abhivayakt said, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

"For what?" Madhurima raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"For being honest with me," Abhivayakt responded.

"I love you, Abhivayakt," Madhurima confessed, her voice steady.

Abhivayakt opened his mouth to say the same but hesitated, something holding him back. "My brother is waiting for me," he said instead, turning to leave.

"Brother, may I come in?" Abhivayakt knocked on Abhimanyu's door.

"Yes, come in!" Abhimanyu called out, adjusting his suit.

"Let me help you with that," Abhivayakt offered, stepping in to assist.

"Abhivayakt, I know you're a bit upset about my decision to marry a younger girl. I feel conflicted too, but when I first saw her, I couldn't resist the urge to make her mine. She’s like a diamond among coal; her beauty can captivate anyone. Even in simple clothes, she outshines the most beautiful celestial beings," Abhimanyu said with pride.

Abhivayakt listened quietly, his brother's words painting a vivid image of the girl he had encountered at the temple.

"A rare beauty like hers deserves to be in our palace, adding to its glory," Abhimanyu continued, while Abhivayakt remained lost in thoughts of Shree.

"Abhivayakt? Abhivayakt!" Abhimanyu gently shook his shoulders.

"Oh, sorry, brother. I was lost in thought," Abhivayakt stammered.

"You should get ready! The wedding rituals will begin soon," Abhimanyu reminded him.

"Okay, brother!" Abhivayakt replied, heading to his room.

....................

Abhimanyu sat in the aisle before the sacred fire as the priest chanted mantras.

"Bring the bride for the upcoming rituals," the priest instructed.

Abhimanyu gestured for Shreeman to bring his daughter down the aisle. Shreeman went directly to the room where Shree awaited.

"Shree! The priest is calling for you," Shreeman announced.

Shree turned to her father, her eyes pleading as she silently begged him to stop the marriage, but Shreeman ignored her gaze. His eyes sparkled with pride at her attire, adorned with precious stones and gold.

"Now you truly look like a queen. No, you are the queen, and I am the father of the queen of Jaisalmer. I never imagined someone like me would have a close relative to a king; I thought I would die in poverty, but my daughter! You have lifted me from my struggles," Shreeman praised her.

"Father! Are you happy now?" Shree asked, her voice trembling.

"Yes, my daughter! Hurry! Raja Saheb (the King) is waiting for you at the aisle. From now on, you must act like a mature woman; you are now the wife of King Abhimanyu," Shreeman said, his expression serious.

Shree nodded, covering her face with a red veil.

"Let’s go!" Shreeman led her to the aisle.

As the bride appeared, Abhimanyu's heart raced; he recognized the familiar fragrance of the girl he had met.

"She must be here!" Abhimanyu's restless heart whispered.

He tried to step away, but Madhurima stopped him.

"Abhivayakt! Are you feeling unwell?" Madhurima asked, concern etched on her face.

"No, I’m fine!" Abhimanyu lied, not wanting to dampen her spirits.

"You should stay by your brother's side; it's a significant day for him," Madhurima suggested.

"Yes, you’re right," Abhivayakt forced a smile and positioned himself behind his brother.

When his gaze fell upon the bride, he felt a wave of emotion reminiscent of his encounter with Shree.

"Both bride and groom, please stand for the seven rounds around the holy fire," the priest instructed.

Abhimanyu rose, but Shree remained seated.

"She’s just a little shy! Let me help her," Shreeman stammered, encouraging Shree to stand.

"Don’t pull any tricks, or I’ll have your skin," Shreeman whispered fiercely.

Shree nodded, her face hidden by the veil, concealing her tears.

"Yes, Your Majesty, she simply caught a cold. There's no need for concern," Shreeman said nervously, lying through his teeth.

Abhivayakt could sense the man's deceitful nature, but he remained silent for the sake of his brother.

The wedding ceremonies concluded, and the priest proclaimed Abhimanyu and Shree as husband and wife.

Shree felt as though this new relationship had become her prison, suffocating her with its constraints.

"Raja Saheb! Shree is my only child; please take good care of her," Shreeman said, feigning tears. In truth, it was just another of his cunning ploys to extract more money from King Abhimanyu.

Being wise, Abhimanyu motioned for his attendants to provide Shreeman with money. "She will live a life of luxury beyond her wildest dreams," he taunted Shreeman.

"Shree! You are truly fortunate to marry Raja Saheb," Shreeman said, embracing her one last time.

"It's getting late!" Abhimanyu announced as he climbed into the car.

"Daughter, be obedient. From this day forward, Raja Saheb is your master. Never dare to do anything foolish that might upset him. If you make him happy, he will shower you with riches," Shreeman instructed his daughter.

Shree's heart sank at her father's words; she had not expected this.

"Dad! Won't you miss me?" Shree asked one last time, clinging to a glimmer of hope despite knowing the answer.

Shreeman ignored her question and helped her into the car.

"Don't ever come back, you jinxed daughter," he whispered in her ear, then smiled with relief.

"Father!" Shree began to cry.

"Driver, drive," Abhimanyu ordered coldly, showing no concern for Shree's tears, which only irritated him.

"Stop crying! It's not like he’s going to die," Abhimanyu said, his mood souring.

Shree gasped in fear; Abhimanyu's harsh, husky voice terrified her.

"I... I... am... sorry..." Shree stammered, hiccuping.

"Now stop crying! Your childish whimpering is giving me a headache," Abhimanyu snapped.

Shree shook her head in disdain; the thought of living with this man frightened her, let alone accepting him as her husband.

"Sir, she’s young; it must be difficult for her to leave her father at such a tender age," the driver said sympathetically.

"Did anyone ask for your opinion? Remember, you’re not in a position to advise me. You poor, filthy people have no idea what kind of luxurious life we royals lead. She should be grateful to have escaped her days of poverty by marrying me," Abhimanyu reprimanded the driver.

"Sorry, Sir!" the driver mumbled.

The rest of the ride was filled with silence until they finally arrived at the palace.

As Shree stepped out of the car, her eyes sparkled at the sight of the magnificent palace.

"This is my palace!" Abhivayakt declared proudly.

The elder women welcomed Shree and led her away for further rituals.

"Abhivayakt? Where have you been?" Abhimanyu asked.

"Brother, I wasn’t feeling well, so I returned home early," Abhivayakt replied.

"Chacha said Danai Ma is calling you to meet the bride," Nandini informed Abhivayakt.

"Call her 'Mom'!" Abhimanyu scolded her.

"She’s not my mom," Nandini retorted with a pout.

"Nandini!" Abhimanyu growled.

"Brother, she needs time to accept her sister-in-law as her new mother," Abhivayakt said calmly.

"But she needs to behave," Abhimanyu frowned.

Abhivayakt sighed. "Nandini, go back. We’ll join you in five minutes."

Nandini nodded and left to inform their godmother.

"Abhivayakt, you shouldn’t protect her like that. She’s a grown woman now," Abhimanyu scolded.

"Brother, she’ll mature in time," Abhivayakt replied with a smile.

"Come on! Let me introduce you to Shree," Abhimanyu said, leading Abhivayakt to the courtyard where the elder women were blessing the bride with gifts.

"Where were you, Abhivayakt?" Kalindi, their godmother, asked.

"He was with me, Daai Maa," Abhimanyu responded.

"Let me introduce you to your sister-in-law," Abhimanyu said.

"Shree, this is Abhivayakt, my younger brother and your brother-in-law," Abhimanyu introduced them.

As Shree unveiled her veil and greeted him, Abhivayakt felt as if the ground had vanished beneath him. He couldn’t believe his eyes; she was the same girl who had stirred his emotions.

"Abhivayakt!" Abhimanyu gently shook his shoulder.

Abhivayakt blinked back tears, attempting to tear his gaze away from Shree, but his heart ached with the realization of what he had lost. It had become clear to him that his feelings for her transcended mere attraction, yet he felt a deep sense of loss—after all, she had never truly been his.

“I warned you that once you met her, you wouldn't be able to look away. Am I right?” Abhimanyu whispered smugly in Abhivayakt’s ear.

“No! You were mistaken,” Abhivayakt sighed heavily.

“What?” Abhimanyu frowned, taken aback.

Taking a deep breath, Abhivayakt smiled and replied, “She’s even more beautiful than you described.”

A proud smirk spread across Abhimanyu’s face, his chest swelling with triumph.

“Shree, everyone is eager to hear you sing,” Kalinidi encouraged.

Shree, looking down at the floor and nervously fiddling with her fingers, felt out of place among such notable company.

Sensing her anxiety, Abhivayakt said encouragingly, “Shree! Don’t be afraid. Let them hear your lovely voice,” offering her a reassuring smile.

With a newfound sense of relief, Shree inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, beginning to sing:

*Mere tho Giridhar Gopal doosra a koi*

*(There is no one but Giridhar Gopal for me)*

*Jake SAR more mukut mero pati soi*

*(The one adorned with a peacock feather on his turban is my husband)*

*that maat brat Bandhu app no a koi*

*(None from kinship—father, mother, brother, or friends—are mine.)*

*change lai Kul ki kaani Kaha karilai koi*

*(I have crossed the honor of my lineage, but who can change that?)*

*Santan thing bait bhai Lok lead Khoi*

*(I have lost my public dignity due to my association with Saints)*

*Chunari Ke Kini took audh light loi*

*(I tore my colorful sari and adopted an ochre one)*

*Moti moonge author ban male poi*

*(No pearl or coral necklace, but I wear a garland of wildflowers)*

(Note: This song is dedicated to Lord Krishna by Meera Bai, who regarded him as her husband.)

When she finished, the courtyard erupted in applause.

Meanwhile, Abhivayakt watched Shree, captivated as if he had witnessed a spellbinding performance.