Well it is said that there are lots of similarities between a person's life and a river. That they both encounter obstacles, experience changes, and ultimately reach a destination. Just as a river carves its path through the landscape, life shapes us through our experiences.
And not just from today, but since long ago, there has been an interesting connection between rivers and stories. Where on one hand, boatmen used to narrate stories while taking people across the river, and on the other sometimes some stories would originate from the rivers themselves and merge into their flow.
There are many such examples as one can take up, either it's a love story of "Sohani aur Mahiwal" which revolves around river Chenab or the love story of "Radha and Krishna" which revolved around the banks of Yamuna river. So each and every river flows through ages by taking several unique stories inside them which we might have heard or read occasionally either from our Grandmothers or read them on the pages of time.
As such those stories, our story also begins on the banks of the mighty river Ganga, a river born in high of the Himalayas. Born from those icy peaks, it carves a path across the land, with a powerful current that finally surrenders its flow to the vast expanse of the Bay of Bengal.
On the banks of River Ganga there resides a centuries old city which itself was founded and resided by the Mahadev.
In the cold breezy morning of Kashi when the first ray of dawn was painting the water of Ganges in hues of gold and rose while the continuous chanting of Vedas mantra flowing through the air can be heard. Which disturbs due to the faded sounds of running cars on the road which can be heard coming from the distance. That signals that the arrival of Rathore's was not far away.
After some time 4 cars can be seen clearly while running on the road. As the vehicles stop in front of Asshi Ghat of the Kashi, the first one to come out from it are the couple in their 50s : Mr. Yashwant and Mrs. Padma Singh Rathore wrapped in traditional attire.
After them comes the 2 yrs old Siya, cradled in the arms of her nanny Phool who is a beautiful and sweet girl in her late 20s. As the cold morning breeze collides with sleepy Siya's body she opens her beautiful big doe eyes and immediately gets mesmerized by the beauty of the view.
The door of the last car opens and Abhinav Singh Rathore comes out of it with his signature cold face, draping the white dhoti on his lower body and covering the upper part with a golden embroidered red shawl. Height 6'3, light beard, dark black eyes, thick eyebrows, sharp facial features, dense hair well trimmed and muscular build.
As Abhinav steps out of the car while taking a clear picture of his surroundings just then, from his peripheral vision he notices a silhouette of a girl draped in off white going towards the ghats while crossing his family.
As his parents taking Siya with them turns towards the temple to meet maha purohit ji of Shiv mandir for yagya invitation. He walked towards the ghats for a holy dip in the water.
It's almost always Maa and Dadi who make their regular trips to the temple, usually just the two of them. Papa also joins them occasionally, though Dada ji, just like me, isn't much fond of these things. But today, even I have to come. As Dadi and Maa are set on performing a Yagya for Siya. And honestly, if Siya's happiness and well-being depended on me climbing Mount Everest, I'd scale that peak in a heartbeat! So, what's a little havan compared to that?
As the car rolled to a stop in front of Assi Ghat, we all stepped out, blinking in the sudden light. And the scene that greeted us was breathtaking.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon, bursting through the clouds and painting the sky with a vibrant, fiery red. Golden rays streamed down, dancing on the sacred Ganges and turning its flowing water into a river of liquid diamonds.
The air itself was freshly fragrant by – the smoky sweetness of incense mingling with the delicate perfume of fresh flowers and the earthy aroma of the damp ghats. A soft breeze carried this intoxicating blend far across the plains.
Lost in the beauty of the moment, I suddenly noticed someone brush past us, heading down the ghat steps toward the river.
While Maa, Papa, Siya, and Phool headed towards the temple, I felt the pull of the Ganga and turned to seek my own moment of peace. As I descended the ghat steps, I saw a girl emerge from the holy waters. She rose from the water like a lotus unfolding its petals. Water streamed from her dark hair, clinging to her skin like a second, shimmering garment. Her eyes, which had been closed in quiet contemplation, now opened, reflecting a serenity so profound in it. A single drop, a glistening pearl, traced a path down her cheek—a tear of peace, perhaps, or maybe a whisper carried from the river's ancient heart. She cupped her hands, offering the remaining water back to the Ganga, with a silent prayer on her lips. As if she embraced the Ganga, and now releasing it.
For a few breathless seconds, I was utterly captivated. Her serenity, her purity, radiated outwards, holding me spellbound. Her face reflected a divine calmness, as smooth and still as the river's surface yet it also held a power that made her utterly unique, distinct from everyone else around her.
And i don't know when my steps.......
BONG
The deep sound of the temple bell shattered the spell and my mind came out of haze. Being confuse i look here and there as if remembering- Where I'm, What I'm doing?
Then it struck me.
'What.... in God's name..... am I doing?' I thought, mortified.
And froze on the steps like some kind of statue. I was gawking at a girl?? like a... well....... like a complete creep.
'Abhinav, shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself??' I mentally berated myself. 'But the calm and peacefulness of her face...... ahh .... don't go there.......leave it ...... it's not right.'
Deleting all thought from my consciousness I continued down the steps, my bare feet finding purchase on the cool, smooth stones. The Ganga was so close now, just a single step away. The cold wasn't just physical; it was a cleansing. I waded deeper, the water rising, a dark, cool embrace against my skin. The current tugged at me, a subtle reminder of the river's immense power. A force that had carved this path through the earth for centuries. It was a power I respected.
I stopped, chest-deep now, the water swirling around me. Taking a deep breath, I ducked under the surface. Then world went silent, the rush of the river muffling all other sounds even of my mind. The cold water pressed against my skin, a physical manifestation of the purity I sought. I held my breath, feeling the current tug at my hair, a gentle but insistent pull. Connecting with something larger than myself, something ancient and powerful. The river's strength, its relentless flow, mirrored something within me, a resilience I rarely acknowledged.
I resurfaced, gasping slightly, the cool air a welcome contrast to the water's chill. The weight I'd been carrying, the tension that had been coiled tight in my shoulders, seemed to have loosened, if only for a moment. I cupped my hands, taking in the water, feeling its life, its energy. Then, I poured it back into the Ganga just like her. And in that moment, standing in the heart of the Ganga, I felt... renewed. Ready.
The Ganga's chill still clung to my skin as I climbed the ghat steps, a sense of quiet strength settling in my bones. The dip had done its work, washing away the mental clutter and leaving me feeling... centered. But my eyes they're roming everywhere maybe in search of some unknown one. But it again became stren as sight that greeted me at the top of the steps immediately shattered that peace.
Maa stood there, her face covered in worry with sobbing siya in her arms. And papa pacing back and forth like a raging tiger. Something was wrong, but what and where is phool? i can't see her . Dread, cold and sharp, pierced through the serenity I'd just found in the river.
"What happened, is everything alright?" I asked, my voice low but firm. I knew it was bad. Their faces told the whole story.
"Phool... she's gone.... We can't find her." Maa's voice was tight with panic, the words barely a whisper. Her eyes, usually so warm and comforting, were wide with fear.
I scanned the crowd. The ghat, which had been peacefully bustling just moments ago, now seemed to swirl with a chaotic energy. Devotees thronged the steps, their colorful saris and dhotis a dizzying kaleidoscope. The air, thick with the scent of incense and flowers once relaxing, now felt suddenly suffocating. The cheerful chants and ringing bells now sounded jarring, almost mocking. Phool was nowhere to be seen.
Papa's face was ashen with worry as phool has also become their child.
"Before going, she said she was going to fetch something for Siya. A small gift, she said. And she also mentioned she'd bring some extra flowers, just in case we needed them. But now..." He trailed off, unable to articulate the fear that gripped us all.
My mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Phool wouldn't just wander off. She was a sensible girl, always mindful of her surroundings. Something must have happened. A cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach.
"Papa, aap yahan Maa aur Siya ke saath rehen, okay? Main dekhta hoon hm vo yahi kahin hogi." I said, trying to project an air of calm confidence. I knew they needed to be together, to support each other. And I knew that I had to act quickly, before it was too late.
(Papa, you stay here with Maa and Siya, okay? I'll look for her.)
I ushered them towards the car, making sure they were safely inside before turning back to face our security head and my bodyguard Balwant Singh and he understood the task in one glance.
Where could she have gone? Had she gotten lost in the crowd?
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