Page 31 of A King's Oath

“What are you doing?” Ava asked.

He unzipped his bag and pulled out the kurta he had packed on top.

“Changing,” Samarth sat back and pulled off his T-shirt. He pushed his hands through the sleeves of the white kurta, a staple in his Papa’s wardrobe and by extension, his, because they came hand-stitched for him too.

Burrowing his head through the neck, he tugged it down his chest and looked up, only to find Ava’s eyes on said chest. Her mouth was slightly open. Was she looking at him likethat? His heart skipped a beat. He caught himself in time and pinched the shoulders of his kurta to shrug it in place — “The show’s over.”

She blinked. Blinked, blinked, blinked — lost brown eyes on his.

Samarth grinned.

Avantika Kumari Raje reached for the neck cushion around her shoulders, pulled it off and chucked it at his face. Hard. Samarth laughed. She was a cricketer after all.

“We’re here.”

Samarth glanced ahead just in time for the top of the Badrinath Temple to come into view. Verdant mountains rose behind it — massive, massive sentries of the temple. The golds, yellows and reds of the top were striking. He had seen them in photos. But this was something else — with the sun rising and its rays hitting the golden peaks like sparkles.

“Badrinath is Vishnu, right?” Ava confirmed. Samarth tore his eyes off the view and gazed at her.

“He is more than Vishnu.”

7. Badri

“A long time ago, Vishnu Bhagwan wished to experience tapasya. He was the preserver of the universe, he was the one who was supposed to enjoy the experience of the world. But he wanted to feel the stillness of tap, to understand his own creation through the act of renunciation…” Samarth whispered to Ava as they walked from the car parking towards the temple, their group around them, devotees buzzing ahead.

“He sought a secluded spot, here, in the Himalayas, near Alaknanda River,” Samarth pointed at the temple ahead. “He closed his eyes and went into deep tapasya. And forgot the constraints of time. Years passed. Then centuries. Then thousands of years. He remained motionless, indifferent to the world, indifferent even to the biting cold winds and the ice freezing all over him.”

Ava’s face turned to him, their feet reaching the threshold of the winding temple steps and abandoning their footwear in unison.

"But someone was watching.” He held her hand as she reached down to pull her socks off and stuff them into her shoes.

“Who?”

“Lakshmiji.”

Samarth turned to check their group, pulling off their footwear behind them. Harsh was talking to Kirti didi, or as close ashe would come to it with strangers — head nods and grunts. Samarth smiled.

“Then?” Ava grabbed his arm and shook it. He bent his head down to her — “Then, for her husband who was unaware of his own suffering, Laxmiji transformed herself into a Badri tree. That one there, see?” He pointed his finger in the distance. “A tree like that.”

“That’s a ber tree.”

“Badri is ber. Laxmiji transformed into a lush Badri tree, spread over Vishnu Bhagwan, and bore the brunt of the elements. She remained evergreen, even amid the snowstorms, creating warmth for him to finish his tapasya. And slowly, the ice over Vishnu Bhagwan began to melt. The whole valley came under her protection, turning warmer and greener, even through hail. She stood like that, for thousands of years, watching, waiting, protecting. When Vishnu Bhagwan finally opened his eyes, he looked at her and smiled, realising that the one he had vowed to protect had protected him.”

Ava’s face was alive, bright with the incense of the place, the nascent sun in the sky and the bell gongs from Badrinath.

“In all his lifetimes he had been her shelter. But in this sacred land she had been his. He hence declared himself Badrinath. People say that he called himself the ‘Master of Badri.’ But Hira ben believes he meant ‘The one whose master is Badri.’ This is them,” he eyed the temple rising in front of them.

She clapped her hands together — “This story is soooo good! I’ll tell this to my Naniji…”

“I have a feeling she might already know it.”

“So what? Hearing stories you already know is such a great thing,” Ava turned to the temple, pushing her hair behind hershoulder. “Let’s go, everyone!” She did a cute little wiggle, clapping her hands again to get their attention. And then, like the leader she was, she took the first steps ahead of him, almost skipping her way up to the massive home of a god who had remained so because of his wife.

All the good things inside him burst to life at that sight. A yellow kurti over frayed denims, hair swinging in the wind, dancing to a temple he had wished to visit for so long, with him. Even without any yes or promise from her, Samarth had a flash of a future. A flash that came and went. He startled out, revelling in that flash and then pushing it away. It was today he had learned to live in and this was the best today of his life.

“Samarth, come on! You’re so slow!” Her hand reached for him from behind, fingers open. Without thinking, he slipped his hand into hers and let her pull him to her skipping speed.

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