________________
The
Marriage
of
Parvati
ARVATI grew up in the city of Oshadhiprastha like the phases of the moon and radiated a sweetness and splendour that transformed her father's Himalayan kingdom into a planet in itself, as it were. Her gracious presence infused a new vitality into everything around her. At the sight of her, the bird would break into song, the bud burst into flower, and the wind whisper something in the ear.
But that morning, on the banks of the Mandakini, there was an awkward pause in the cycle of Spring. For not a leaf stirred in the lush Himalayan valley. And the flow of the reluctant river had become feebler and feebler as though it might dry up any moment. The sun had already made his appearance in the east, but he lost his lustre and the lotus was still asleep. A strange staleness had crept into the song of the shama and the koel was wailing. Suddenly, however, flowed divine melodies from the strings of Narada's Veena, as he was passing through the clouds on his way to Oshadhiprastha. "Narayana! Narayana! Why is Nature in mourning ?” demanded the son of Brahma.
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