The village was alive with the energy of the festivities. As Nisha and Nakul made their way toward the temple, the old lady walked beside them, her steps steady, as if carrying the village's legacy within her. Behind them, Gopadevi and Baldevi walked with a silent pride, lending an air of reverence to the journey. The temple entrance was crowded, yet not overwhelmingly so, allowing them to make their way inside with ease.

Inside, the glow of numerous oil lamps illuminated the stone walls, casting flickering shadows across the faces of those present. In the right corner, Vedvyasji sat cross-legged, serene and wise, his presence both grounding and ethereal. Beside him lay a stack of palm leaf manuscripts, alongside an earthen pot filled with water, vermillion, and sandalwood paste. As if sensing their arrival, Vedvyasji opened his eyes and looked at them with a calm smile. He rose, acknowledging their presence.

Nisha and Nakul approached and touched his feet, a gesture of respect. He placed his hand over their heads in blessing, a gentle warmth passing from his touch. The others-Gopadevi, Baldevi, and the old lady-also paid their respects, bowing to touch his feet. Vedvyasji gestured to the couple with a welcoming nod and said, "Vats Nakul aur Nisha, yahan baith jao aur hum turant hi iss puja ko tumhare prem aur vivah ki safalta ke liye arambh karte hain, yadi hum aur vilambh karenge to yahan bheed badh jayegi" ("Dear Nakul and Nisha, sit here, and we shall begin the ritual to bless your love and marriage without further delay, as the crowd will only grow with time").

Nisha and Nakul exchanged a silent understanding, then settled down before him. Vedvyasji lit a large diya and placed it between them, the golden flame dancing like a witness to their bond. The old lady leaned over and whispered to Gopadevi, who nodded and slipped away. Moments later, she returned with a small set of red bangles, which she held carefully, as though they were a treasure. Nisha glanced at them with mild confusion but soon returned her attention to the ceremony.

As the ritual continued, Nakul repeated the Sanskrit hymns and chants that Vedvyasji instructed, his voice steady and respectful. Nisha followed along silently, her gaze sometimes drifting to the temple entrance, half-expecting to see her best friend, Krishna. Yet each time, she saw only the faces of the villagers and, finally, Rati standing alone. Nisha let out a soft sigh, her heart yearning for her Sakha, the one who she wanted by her side.

Unbeknownst to her, Krishna was already with her, in disguise, as Gopadevi and Baldevi-embodiments of Sheshnaag Balaram and Shri Krishna himself.

As the puja concluded, Vedvyasji sprinkled rice over Nisha and Nakul, marking the end of the ritual. Suddenly, the old lady stepped forward with the red bangles, addressing Vedvyasji. "Vedvyasji, ye log pati-patni hain, parantu inki puja ho gayi par kanya ne chudi to pehni hi nahi the. Kuch asuvidha to nahi hogi na? Kya ab main pehna du inhe?" ("Vedvyasji, they are husband and wife, but though the ritual is complete, the bride has yet to wear her bangles. Would it be acceptable if I give these to her now?")

Vedvyasji chuckled softly and replied, "Nahi, nahi, koi pareshani nahi. Aur apne chudiyan la hi di hain to Parvati mandir paas hi hai. Wahan jaake iski puja karake pehnana taki Maa ki kripa aur ashirwad prasad ke roop mein Nisha ka shringar karta rahe. Aur waise bhi, is Shiv mandir mein puja karke Parvati mandir na jaane se koi punya nahi milta." ("No, no, there's no problem at all. And since you've brought the bangles, take them to the Parvati temple nearby and have them blessed there so that Parvati's grace may adorn Nisha in the form of her ornaments. Besides, one doesn't gain full merit from praying at the Shiva temple without also visiting the Parvati temple.")

They all nodded, and the group left the main temple, making their way to Parvati's shrine. As they approached, they were greeted by the sight of an endless staircase leading up the hillside. Nakul raised an eyebrow, looking around, and asked, "Nisha, mandir to dikhai nahi de raha?" ("Nisha, I can't see the temple anywhere?").

Nisha gazed up in equal puzzlement, but Gopadevi chuckled knowingly. She took the end of Nisha's pallu and tied it to the corner of Nakul's angavastra, saying, "200 seediyan hain, bhaiya, isliye dikhai nahi de raha. Aur vivahik jodo ko isse apne vastron ko bandhke chadna hota hai." ("There are 200 steps, brother, which is why you can't see it. Married couples traditionally ascend these steps with their garments tied together").

Nisha and Nakul shared a determined glance, and ready for the journey. They touched the first step, bowing in respect, then began their ascent. Each step brought them closer together, bound not just by cloth but by an unspoken strength and trust. After some time, they reached the hilltop temple, the atmosphere calm and filled with divine grace, free from the hustle and bustle below.

The old lady went directly to the priest, who took the bangles, chanting sacred mantras over them, applying a tika, and blessing them with offerings. The priest then handed the bangles to Nakul with a warm smile. Nakul turned to Nisha, who extended her hands willingly, her heart fluttering as he gently slid each bangle onto her wrists. The gesture felt more binding than any vow, a silent promise spoken through touch.

Gopadevi and Baldevi clapped in delight, and, having gathered flower petals on their journey, began to shower Nisha and Nakul with them. Rati, too, joined in, his eyes filled with joy. Even the priest offered his blessings with a smile. Nisha, touched by the moment, silently whispered, "Keshav, aap aaye nahi, parantu is puja ache se ho jaane ke liye aapko dhanyawad. Aur main naraz bhi hoon thodi si aap aaye nahi issliye." ("Keshav, you didn't come, but I thank you for allowing this ritual to be completed beautifully. And, a little part of me is upset that you didn't come.")

Gopadevi looked at Nisha with a mysterious smile, as if understanding her thoughts, and mentally replied, "Main to yahi hun, sakhi, tumhe ashirwad de raha hoon. Tum hi pehchan nahi payi. Koi baat nahi, isme tumhari koi galti nahi." ("I am here, my friend, blessing you. It's just that you didn't recognize me. But don't worry, it's not your fault").

As Nisha stood there, unaware of her Sakha's disguised presence by her side, she felt an unexplainable sense of peace and belonging, as though all her silent prayers were being answered by the universe itself.

Together, the group descended the stairs, laughing and eating Prasad and their hearts full, their spirits uplifted. The village welcomed them back with open arms, knowing that today, something sacred had unfolded-a bond had been sanctified under the watchful eyes of gods and blessings of friends disguised.

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