**"Now,"** I said, settling back into my storytelling rhythm after the cosmic workplace drama we'd just witnessed, "let me tell you about what happened AFTER all that divine curse business got sorted out. Because the Bhrigu family saga is far from over!"
Saunaka leaned forward with interest. "Ah yes, the continuing generations. Please, continue with the lineage."
"Right! So remember baby Chyavana, who had that dramatic entrance into the world? Well, he grew up, became a great sage himself, and married this wonderful woman named Sukanya. And they had a son named Pramati—who inherited all that cosmic spiritual power!"
"Pramati had quite the romantic life," I continued with a grin. "He fell in love with Ghritachi—one of the celestial dancers, an Apsara. You know, interdimensional romance was apparently very popular in this family! They had a son named Ruru."
"And Ruru," I said, building up to the main story, "is where things get REALLY interesting. Because his love story is both the most beautiful and most tragic tale you'll ever hear!"
"But before I tell you about Ruru's romance," I said, "I need to tell you about another family entirely. Because this story involves cosmic coincidences, abandoned babies, and the kind of timing that makes you wonder if the universe has a cruel sense of humor!"
"There was this incredibly wise and compassionate Rishi named Sthulakesa," I began. "This guy was known throughout the three worlds for his learning, his ascetic power, and most importantly, his kindness to all living beings."
"Meanwhile, in the celestial realms, the Gandharva King Viswavasu was having a passionate affair with Menaka—one of the most famous celestial dancers. You know Menaka, right? She's the Apsara who later seduced the great sage Vishwamitra!"
Several sages nodded knowingly.
"Well, their relationship resulted in a pregnancy. And when the time came for birth..." I paused dramatically, "Menaka did what many Apsaras unfortunately do—she abandoned the baby!"
"She gave birth near Sthulakesa's hermitage, dropped the newborn on the riverbank, and just... left. No note, no arrangements, no consideration for the child's welfare. Just 'bye, baby' and off she went!"
The sages made sounds of disapproval.
"But here's where Sthulakesa's compassionate nature comes in," I said, brightening the tone. "He finds this abandoned infant—a beautiful baby girl blazing with celestial radiance—and his heart just melts with compassion."
"Does he think, 'Not my problem'? Does he leave her for someone else to find? NO! He scoops her up and basically says, 'You're my daughter now!'"
"Sthulakesa raises this girl with all the love and care any parent could provide," I continued warmly. "He performs all the proper ceremonies for her, gives her the best education, and watches her grow into an absolutely extraordinary young woman."
"And because she excelled in every possible quality—goodness, beauty, intelligence, virtue—he named her Pramadvara, meaning 'the most excellent among women.'"
"She grows up to be not just beautiful, but wise, kind, accomplished, and beloved by everyone in the hermitage community. The perfect daughter, raised by the perfect adoptive father!"
"Now, remember Ruru, our hero from the Bhrigu lineage? Well, one day he visits Sthulakesa's hermitage and sees Pramadvara..."
I paused for dramatic effect.
"And it's INSTANT. Total, complete, overwhelming love at first sight! The god of love basically shoots him with the most powerful arrow in his quiver!"
"Ruru is absolutely smitten! He can't eat, can't sleep, can't focus on his spiritual studies—he's completely head-over-heels in love!"
"Being a properly raised young man, Ruru doesn't just declare his love randomly," I continued. "He gets his friends to help him approach his father Pramati with his feelings."
"Pramati sees how serious his son is and goes to Sthulakesa to formally request Pramadvara's hand in marriage. And Sthulakesa, seeing what a good match this would be—both families are highly respected, both young people are virtuous and well-suited—agrees!"
"They set the wedding date for when the star Varga-Daivata would be ascendant. Everything is perfect! The families are delighted, the couple is ecstatic, the community is celebrating—it's going to be the wedding of the century!"
*But then...*
"And then," I said, my voice taking on a darker tone, "with just a few days left before the wedding, fate decided to show its cruelest face."
The grove fell silent as everyone sensed the tragedy coming.
"Pramadvara was playing with her friends—you know, the kind of innocent, joyful play that engaged young women enjoy while anticipating their wedding day. She was probably laughing, maybe talking about the ceremony, full of excitement for her future..."
I paused, letting the contrast sink in.
"And she stepped on a snake."
"She didn't see it," I continued quietly. "It was coiled in such a way that it was hidden. Just an accident, a moment of inattention, a tiny misstep in an otherwise perfect life."
"The serpent, startled and defensive—or perhaps urged by fate itself—struck instantly. Its venomous fangs sank deep into her flesh."
"And Pramadvara, who moments before had been laughing with her friends about her upcoming wedding, collapsed to the ground, poisoned."
"Her friends screamed in horror," I said, my voice heavy with the tragedy. "This beautiful, beloved young woman—who had never harmed anyone, who was days away from marrying her true love—was dying from a completely random accident."
"But here's the heartbreaking part," I continued. "As the poison took effect, as her life slipped away, she became even more beautiful than she had been in life. She lay there looking like a sleeping lotus, radically peaceful and lovely."
"All the great sages came running—Swastyatreya, Mahajana, Kushika, Uddalaka, Bharadwaja, Gautama, and many others. They surrounded her with compassion, but there was nothing they could do."( All are well known sages)
"And Ruru?" I said softly. "Poor Ruru, who had been planning to marry the love of his life in just a few days, who had never experienced such joy as their engagement had brought him?"
"He looked at his beloved lying dead on the ground, and he just... broke. He couldn't even stay to watch. The grief was too overwhelming. He walked away from the scene, completely shattered."
I let the silence stretch for a moment, allowing the full weight of the tragedy to settle over the assembled sages.
"And that," I said finally, "is how a perfect love story, a perfect family, and a perfect future can be destroyed in a single moment by pure, senseless accident."
"The story of Pramadvara shows us that sometimes there are no villains, no evil schemes, no cosmic justice being served. Sometimes tragedy just... happens. Even to the most innocent, most beloved, most deserving people."
Saunaka was quiet for a long moment, clearly moved by the story.
"A powerful reminder," he finally said, "that even in our joy, we must remember the fragility of life. Poor Ruru... but surely this cannot be the end of his story?"
I gave him a knowing look. "Oh, Ruru's story is far from over. This tragedy becomes the catalyst for one of the most extraordinary demonstrations of love, sacrifice, and divine intervention you'll ever hear."
"But that," I said with a small smile, "is a tale for another moment."