Ch15Ill Wait. Because He Will Come #3
And in Kashi, far away, a faint breeze brushed against Rivanya’s face as if carrying his promise across the distance between them.
Elsewhere, Rivanya had freshened up and quietly made her way to the small, serene temple within her house.
The soft morning light fell through the windows, casting a golden glow on the marble floor.
She knelt alone in front of the idols of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati, her hands folded in deep reverence.
Closing her eyes, Rivanya whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with sincerity, “Shiv Ji, my husband is one of your greatest devotees. He trusts and believes in you in ways I can only imagine. Today, I come to you not just as his wife, but as a daughter seeking your guidance. Please,
Mahadev, see me as your child and bless me with the strength to do what is right in this situation.”
Opening her eyes, her gaze shifted to the serene form of Goddess Parvati.
She spoke softly, pouring her heart out, “Maa, I cannot hide my feelings from you. I don’t know what binds me so strongly to him, but I have this unwavering faith that he will come for me. Just as Sati faced her trials, I too am caught in a storm of dharma and duty torn between my family, my home,
and the destiny I share with the man my life is bound to. Maa, please give me the courage to act rightly… to protect the honor of my sindoor and mangalsutra.”
She drew a deep breath and whispered, almost pleading, “Maa, protect the sanctity of my sindoor and mangalsutra… protect the honor of my marriage. Today, I light this lamp with complete faith that my husband will come for me. Until he does, I will not let this flame extinguish.
Not for a single moment.”
With trembling hands, Rivanya lit the small oil lamp before the idols.
Its warm, flickering light reflected in her eyes, filled with devotion, hope, and unwavering trust.
Slowly, she performed the aarti, her eyes lingering on the glowing flame, as if the light itself carried her prayers straight to Shiv Shakti.
She placed the lamp gently back in its holder, her heart steady with the belief that her wishes would reach the divine and that her prayers would be answered.
Taking the sacred sindoor from the plate before the idols, Rivanya held it carefully between her fingers.
First, she applied a small mark on her mangalsutra, then lifted it above her eyes in a silent, heartfelt prayer for Rudraksh’s safety.
Her fingers lingered on the mangalsutra, her mind silently reciting every blessing she could think of for him.
Finally, with a steady hand and unwavering faith, she filled her mang(hairline) with the sindoor, whispering a prayer that this offering, this act of devotion, would guard her love and their sacred bond until he came to claim her.
Rivanya’s eyes shone with unshed tears, reflecting the soft flicker of the lamp, her lips moving in silent devotion, her heart brimming with hope, courage, and the unshakeable belief that Rudraksh would return to her safe, determined, and rightfully hers.
Rivanya finished her prayer and opened her eyes.
From behind the statue of Maa Gauri, something small brushed against the edge of her saree a green Rudraksh bead, dangling and then settling against her pallu.
Surprised, Rivanya picked it up and held it to her heart, whispering to the deity, “Mother, is this your sign that he will surely come? I have laid everything at your feet and trusted him completely. Please, protect the honor of that trust.”
She remembered long before her marriage, she too had found a Rudraksh bead near the same idol; that had felt like fate and had led to her wedding with Rudraksh.
Kneeling, Rivanya pressed the new bead into her saree and folded her hands in deep salutation to Shiv–Shakti, praying, “Keep the dignity of my sindoor safe. Do not let my faith be broken, Maa.”
—Time Skip—
By five o’clock in the evening, Rivanya and Dhara arrived at the Gauri temple.
The priest’s face lit up the moment he saw Rivanya; he blessed her warmly.
As she walked through the little flower garden a ritual she had followed since she was ten she felt at home and at peace.
The Gauri temple had always been a refuge, a second home where the bustle of the world quieted and innocence returned.
Collecting the loveliest blossoms, Rivanya offered them to the priest for Maa Gauri.
Slowly, more devotees began to gather; the evening aarti was about to begin.
The priest noticed the glow on Rivanya’s face and smiled kindly.
“Child,” he said softly, “the Mother has always helped you and shown you your way. Today too, she will help her daughter. Go, receive her blessings at her feet you will find your answer.”
Rivanya nodded and moved into the sanctum.
Before the white, serene statue of Maa Gauri she fell to her knees and prayed with all the earnestness of her heart: “Mother, please show me the path. Give me a sign. What is my destiny? Please guide me.”
Her plea rose from the place she had always turned to in times of confusion and surrender.
The way Rivanya called to Maa the purity, the reverence made it impossible for the goddess not to listen.
Behind her, Dhara, folding her own hands, closed her eyes and prayed silently too: “Mother, Rivu has borne so much. If it pleases you, grant her your joy; if you will take her sorrow, then give her my share of happiness instead. Bless her, please.”
When Rivanya bowed and touched Maa’s feet, as she had done so many times as a child, a remarkable moment occurred.
Just like before, the sacred chunri the red cloth that adorned the goddess seemed to fall over Rivanya’s head.
A sudden breeze lifted the veil, and a small smear of sindoor that had been placed in the idol’s hand brushed across Rivanya’s forehead.
In that instant the blessing felt real and immediate: the Mother had accepted her; the sanctity of Rivanya’s faith and marriage was reaffirmed.
Tears welled up in Rivanya’s eyes. She pressed her forehead to Maa Gauri’s feet, receiving the blessing like a benediction from a mother.
Rising slowly, she felt both comforted and resolved.
The priest, moved by the scene, said with conviction, “Rivanya, today again a miracle has happened. The Maa has bestowed her blessings on you and on your suhag. Tonight, the aarti will be sung by you the goddess herself has called you. Go, offer your devotion; she will answer you.”
Rivanya stepped out of the sanctum with her heart full a mix of hope, devotion, and steady courage. The evening air felt charged with the reassurance she had sought all day: that her faith had been heard, and that the promise she clung to would somehow be kept.
All the devotees began to gather for the evening aarti, and the soft ringing of temple bells echoed through the air.
The priest started making the preparations lighting the lamps, arranging the flowers, and setting the incense near Maa Gauri’s idol.
The fragrance of sandalwood and jasmine filled the mandir, wrapping the space in divine serenity.
As Rivanya stood near the front, waiting for the aarti to begin, a strange feeling passed through her a gentle stirring in the air, almost like someone’s presence brushing past her soul.
Her heart skipped a beat. It felt as if someone she deeply knew, someone who belonged to her, was very close…
coming toward her. She turned around instinctively, her eyes scanning the crowd but there was no one there.
A soft smile touched her lips. “Maybe it’s just my imagination…” she thought, trying to calm the strange flutter in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she turned back toward the idol as the priest lifted the aarti plate, signaling the beginning of the prayer.
The conch shell blew a deep, sacred sound that vibrated through every corner of the temple. Rivanya closed her eyes and began to sing, her voice pure and filled with devotion:
Her voice echoed through the marble hall, steady yet emotional carrying both her faith and her longing.
There was something divine about that moment.
The flickering flames of the diyas reflected in her eyes, her golden dupatta moved softly with the wind, and her voice resonated like a hymn straight from her soul.
Even the priest and devotees stood still for a moment, awed by the power and purity in her singing.
It is said that when a young, unmarried girl recites the Gauri Stuti with complete devotion, Maa Gauri blesses her with the husband of her heart’s desire.
In the ancient scriptures, it was this very stuti that Goddess Sita had recited to be united with Lord Ram.
Such is the significance of these sacred verses and such was the faith burning in Rivanya’s heart that day.
And perhaps, dear reader, it is worth saying even your author herself recites this Gauri Stuti every single day, with the same unwavering belief that love blessed by the divine can never be lost.