Amidst the pitch darkness, she stood ablaze, facing the great throne, without flickering, even slightly, to the harsh winds that were determined to defeat her.

Her eyes, which had spat fire a few moments ago now closed and calm.

Her hope, that it wasn’t still the end of all burned strong.

Her hands folded on its own accord and for that spare moment her mind focused on the only thought that will save her.

Her lips uttered his name.


And then it began.

Her last remaining shawl started to unravel from her body.

Her thoughts grew intense.

Her soul screamed in pain.

Yet she focused on her savior. The one who had promised he will protect her at all times. The one whom she now called out to when even all those she trusted failed her.

What happened afterwards…

Some say it was a blessing….

Some say it was a miracle….

But even with her eyes closed she knew, she was protected.

Saved, even if only for the time being.

She maintained her posture, ignoring her surroundings, and only let go when embraced with the touch of the mother.

She let her eyes see the world.

It was all in tatters…

Just like her soul.

Still it did not help soothe her pain.

The pain which tore her soul into shreds.

The pain which made her explode in fury yet made her numb.

There was something happening around her. The Queen mother seemed to be spewing words of hate. Or it seemed to be so from her expression.

Yet none of this fell to her ears as she stood there reliving a thousand times, how life can be much more crueller than death. How life seemed to give her so much more pain than death.

Her eyes roamed around.

On one side she saw, with heads bowed down, the ones who vowed to protect her at all costs, the greatest warriors of the whole land. All who kneeled there, not even caring to lend her a single hand when she needed it the most. The very people she had sacrificed her entire happiness for, just had their heads bowed when she, their other half was humiliated.

On the other, the maddening glee of getting revenge mixed with a regret of not being able to extract it fully.

And finally ahead, on the great seats, the high thrones of power, the source of all the problems in her life, she saw some of the greatest men that had lived, all head bowed down in shame and regret. All bowed down as they were tied up by their false sense of duty.

This hall, filled with all those who called them the greatest men of the land, the mightiest and fearsome warriors of the yuga. They all stood there in despair, as she was being roughened.

Stood there as she was being pushed.

Stood there as she begged each and every one of them.

Stood there silently as her robes were forcibly pulled.


These were not the greatest men.


She was not going to stand there numb.

She was not going to stand there being pitied.

She was not going to stand there and let the others think that those cowards who called them the greatest warriors are going to defend her. They didn’t when needed. Why would they now?


They are no longer her husbands, nor is she their wife.

She is not an object.

She is not a possession.

She cannot be contained and this they all shall know.

Her aura grew strong. Frightening almost. With all her strength she flung it, the sign of her marital life.

On the floor it fell, scattering the gems  to the feet of those who called themselves her husbands.

She was a force.

She was the fire.

Dressed in a bright red saree, now which was half torn. Bathed bodily in her own blood, which glistened in the speckling rays of sun which streamed in. Her dark black locks disheveled. Her jewels askew. Eyes blazing in fury.

She stood in the middle of the great hall as an epitome of death.

Her aura blazing in fury, reminding all those around her the origin of her birth.

She stood tall, not as the wife of the five greatest warriors but as the daughter of fire. Ready to turn those who defied her into ash.

The place was plunged into silence, witnessing the transformation, of a young woman into a goddess born to massacre them all.

The pain and unjust which she had seen in the short span of her life on earth, every single one of them poured more and more fuel to the fire burning inside of her.

The once gentle daughter of fire, burned now as an inferno.

In a voice so calm, that it made the hairs of all those present there, she uttered her curse, one which marked the demise of the happiness of all those who were present, one which marked the demise of not only all those who wronged her but also the entire destruction of the clan, one in which no longer bound her soul to the human body, one so strong and so powerful that it even shook the spine of one of the bravest lady who walked the times, the high Queen of the land. For it made her, the high Queen, the woman who had felt nothing but sorrow and misery ever since marrying the King, begged the now blazing fire born to show some mercy.

Unwavering even to the tears of the mother, she finally pledged, that she who was the gentlest soul to roam earth, will now be never contained, and only shall she be sated when the ones who wronged her today, felt the pain her soul felt.

With those words and still flaming as bright as the flame of the pyre, she walked out of the cursed hall, leaving all stunned to silence, with the grace of a queen and her head held high.

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