The golden light of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the sacred city of Dwarka.

The sound of temple bells echoed in the crisp morning air, blending harmoniously with the distant chants of sages and the rhythmic crashing of ocean waves.

Today was a special day—an auspicious time for prayers—and Subhadra, dressed in a delicate green saree with golden embroidery, followed her mother and bhabhis toward the towering Somnath temple.

Her anklets jingled softly with every graceful step she took, and the fragrant scent of sandalwood and fresh flowers filled the air. The temple stood tall, its white marble structure gleaming under the morning sun, its spires stretching toward the heavens as if seeking Mahadev’s divine embrace.

Inside, the air was thick with devotion. Oil lamps flickered gently, casting golden light on the ancient stone walls. The sacred Shivling, adorned with fresh bilva leaves and fragrant water, stood at the heart of the temple. The Yadava women bowed reverently before the deity, their sarees pooling gracefully around them as they whispered their prayers.

Subhadra, now in her teens but still carrying the innocence of her childhood, knelt before the idol, pressing her small hands together. She closed her eyes, her heart brimming with devotion. The world around her faded as she spoke her prayers in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Mahadev," she began softly, her voice filled with sincerity, "I love my family so much. Please bless Dwarka and all of Yadava with happiness. Protect them, love them, and never let any harm come to them."

A gentle breeze swept through the temple, making the lamps flicker slightly, as if acknowledging her words.

"Please grant my father and my brothers good health and joy. Let Dau’s strength remain unshaken, let bhrata Krishna's wisdom continue to guide us, and let them always be safe. Keep my mothers and bhabhis happy, and let their love for my family always be strong."

She hesitated for a moment before adding in a slightly playful tone,

"And please, Mahadev, let me eat lots and lots of sweets without damaging my teeth!"

A soft giggle almost escaped her lips, but she quickly composed herself. However, as she remained kneeling, a different thought entered her mind—a thought she had never spoken aloud before.

Her fingers curled slightly, her brows furrowing. She took a slow, deep breath before lifting her gaze to the deity before her.

"And Mahadev…" she whispered, hesitating, "you know how much I love my family, right? Specially my brothers… they are the greatest men alive. There is no one else in this world as strong, as wise, as kind, and as wonderful as them."

Her voice trembled slightly, not with sadness but with an overwhelming emotion she didn’t quite understand.

"So, if one day I am to have a husband… please, make sure he, too, thinks my brothers is the greatest."

She pressed her palms together even tighter, her sincerity radiating in every word.

"Let him admire Dau and bhrata Krishna as much as I do… or even more. Let him respect him, love him, and never speak ill of him."

Her breath caught slightly as she lowered her gaze.

"And also… make him love me so much, Mahadev. And make me love him so much too."

A deep silence filled the temple for a brief moment, as if the universe itself had paused to listen to the young princess’s heartfelt wish. The golden flames of the lamps flickered slightly once more, casting a soft glow on her face.

Far away, atop the sacred peaks of Kailash, Mahadev sat in deep meditation. Yet, as her prayer reached him, his lips curved into a knowing smile.

Back in Dwarka, at the palace, Krishna stood at the balcony, gazing out at the endless ocean. His arms were crossed over his chest, his peacock feather swaying slightly in the gentle morning breeze.

There was no reason for him to smile at that moment.

Yet, he did.

As if somewhere, in a sacred space between fate and free will, he had heard her wish.

And perhaps, without even knowing it, destiny had already begun to weave its answer.

*****

The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Dwarka as Subhadra walked alongside her father, Vasudeva, near the tranquil lake. The water mirrored the sky’s hues—deep orange blending into soft pink, with wisps of purple streaking across the horizon. A cool breeze carried the faint scent of flowers, making the atmosphere even more serene.

Subhadra loved these moments. Despite her days being filled with lessons, prayers, and time spent with her bhabhis, nothing compared to these peaceful conversations with her father. He was her guide, her protector, her pillar of strength. She looked up at him with admiration, her small hands clasped together as she recounted her day in vivid detail.

"And then, Rukmini bhabhi scolded me because I spilled ink on my scroll," she said, giggling. "But she wasn’t really angry. She just sighed and told me I should be more careful. Then she helped me clean up the mess."

Vasudeva chuckled, shaking his head. "You are lucky to have such a kind bhabhi, Bhadre. But you must listen to her advice—if you are not careful, your scrolls will all turn into works of ink art instead of lessons!"

Subhadra laughed at that. "Maybe I should just become an artist then!" she teased, swinging her feet playfully as she sat beside him on the smooth stone by the lake.

Her father turned to look at her properly, his expression softening. There were moments when he still saw her as the tiny baby he had cradled in his arms, wrapped in soft blankets, her delicate fingers barely curling around his own. And yet, here she was—growing taller, wiser, more graceful with each passing day. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, no matter how tightly he tried to hold onto it.

"Time moves too fast," he murmured, almost to himself. "It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms, and now you are already so grown."

Subhadra tilted her head, a gentle smile forming on her lips. She knew what he was feeling—after all, she had heard similar words from her mother before. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Even when I turn a hundred years old, Pitashri, I will still cling to you like a child," she declared with a playful grin.

Vasudeva’s heart warmed at her words. He squeezed her hand back and chuckled. "Then I shall have to prepare myself for a hundred more years of your mischief, won't I?"

They laughed together, their voices carrying over the water like a melody, blending with the whispers of the waves. The warmth of their bond wrapped around them like a comforting embrace, and for that moment, time didn’t feel so fleeting.

As the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle, Vasudeva gently patted her head. "Come, Rochana. It is time to return to the palace. The moon is already rising."

Subhadra nodded, taking one last look at the shimmering lake before following her father back.

To be continued

Note : hii everyone I'm actually quite scared releasing this chapter. I'm not familiar on how Hindu pray at the temple so, if it's wrong pls let me know and tell me how it should've been done. I didn't want to offend anyone, truly guys. Umm yeah love you ❤