– The Curse That Shattered Heaven
The air of Heaven's Celestial Court shimmered with gold. Fragrant petals drifted like snow, and every breath tasted of divine music. Gods, Apsaras, and Gandharvas stood in concentric circles around a platform made of starlight. At its center sat Celestial Musician Pratham, the one whose melodies could move the stars themselves.
Today was sacred—the Maha Rāga, the Great Melody that maintained the balance of creation. The entire court waited for the first note to fall.
Pratham's fingers brushed the strings of his ancient veena.
Pluck.
A soft vibration spread through the air, and the lotus ponds below bloomed at once.
Pluck.
A second note followed, and the anklets of the Apsaras chimed in response, eager to dance.
Then came Ga… Ma… Pa—each note layering upon the last, weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the skies. The rhythm of creation pulsed once again, the melody that held all worlds together.
For a moment, Heaven itself swayed with the music. Even Lord Indra, the King of the Gods, leaned forward on his throne, his stormy eyes calm.
But then—
The grand doors opened.
A new Apsara entered, late and trembling. Her name was Shweta, draped in silks of silver-white. Her presence was like moonlight falling into sunlight—gentle, yet impossible to ignore.
Pratham's hand hesitated. His gaze, meant to be fixed on his strings, lifted toward her. Their eyes met.
And in that single heartbeat—he forgot the universe.
Pluck!
The next note snapped sharp and wrong. A discordant sound cut through the divine harmony, and Heaven trembled. The air shattered like glass. Lotus petals turned to ash. The stars flickered. Silence fell—a silence so heavy it felt alive.
"Celestial Musician Pratham!"
Indra's voice thundered through the court, shaking the pillars of light. "You dare break the sacred melody of Heaven? For what—an Apsara's face?"
Pratham rose, still breathless. He wanted to speak, to explain that it wasn't mere beauty. That for one moment, her eyes had sung a melody older than creation itself. But no words came.
He bowed deeply. "Forgive me, my Lord. The fault is mine."
Indra's laughter was cold. "Forgive? You shattered the balance that binds the heavens! Do you think apology can mend the song of the cosmos?"
Around them, the court stood frozen. No one dared breathe.
But somewhere behind the shame, a new music had begun in Pratham's heart—one only he could hear.
---
That night, under the Kalpavriksha, the tree that whispered the secrets of the gods, Pratham met Shweta again.
The grove was forbidden for lovers. No deity was allowed to meet another here in secret. Yet they stood beneath its glowing branches, their hearts louder than divine law.
"They will punish us," Shweta whispered. Her voice trembled like the light breeze that stirred her veil. "Indra's anger… it will destroy you."
"Let him," Pratham murmured. He reached out, touching her face with fingers meant only for music. "I have played for Heaven all my life. But today, for the first time, I played for myself. For you."
Shweta's eyes glistened with tears. "And if Heaven falls for it?"
"Then let it fall," he said softly. "What is Heaven without love?"
He leaned closer. The distance between them vanished like mist. Their lips almost met—
A blinding light split the night.
Indra appeared, radiant with fury, lightning dancing around him. The grove quaked under his power.
"So," Indra said quietly, his voice more terrifying than any roar. "The master of melody cannot master his own heart."
Shweta dropped to her knees. "It was my fault, Lord! Punish me, not him!"
Indra raised his hand, and the wind itself froze. "Silence, foolish one. You both have broken divine law."
He turned to Pratham. "You have turned sacred devotion into desire. You have broken the eternal harmony. For this sin—"
The god's voice boomed, echoing through the planes of existence.
"—you shall fall. You will be reborn as a mortal, stripped of your music and your memories. You will wander through lifetimes, voiceless, until someone loves you not for your song, but for your silence."
Before Pratham could speak, fire shot through his throat. He gasped, clutching it as invisible hands ripped his voice away. The music that had filled Heaven itself was silenced. His fingers bled light, his veena fell, its strings snapping with a sound like a dying star.
Indra's gaze shifted to the weeping Shweta. "And you, who lured the artist from his duty—you will share his curse. You will find him again and again, lifetime after lifetime, only to lose him before you can truly be one. Your love will echo through eternity as a melody that Heaven itself will never hear."
With a single clap, the god's judgment was sealed.
The grove dissolved. The stars dimmed. The music that had filled Heaven for eons faded into nothingness.
And thus, the melody that bound the heavens broke.
---
Seven centuries later — Mortal Realm
The first rays of dawn spilled across the marble towers of Suryapuri, a kingdom that worshiped the sun. On the highest balcony stood Prince Aaditya, heir to the throne. His golden eyes reflected the rising light, but his mind was lost elsewhere.
Every night, he dreamed of music—haunting melodies he couldn't remember upon waking, and a face he couldn't name. Each morning, his throat ached with a strange, voiceless longing.
He pressed a hand to his chest. Why does it feel like something inside me wants to sing?
A knock broke his thoughts.
"Lost in dreams again, my son?" The king, Maharaj Viraj, entered with a smile that couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. "You seem restless."
"Just dreams, Father," Aaditya said, forcing a smile. "Of music I've never heard, and sadness I can't explain."
Viraj chuckled softly. "Perhaps the gods are teasing you. But remember—dreams fade. Duty remains. Tomorrow, you leave for Chandrapuri for the peace conference. Their prince, Devansh, is said to be fond of old music. You may find good company."
Aaditya nodded, though his chest still felt heavy. Music. The word alone sent a shiver down his spine.
He turned toward the horizon, where the twin kingdom of Chandrapuri lay hidden behind silver mountains. For just a moment, the wind carried a faint echo—a single pluck of a veena string.
It was impossible. And yet, Aaditya smiled faintly.
"Maybe," he whispered to the dawn, "my song is waiting for me there."
---
End of Chapter 1: The Curse That Shattered Heaven
> A melody broken in Heaven. Two souls cursed to find each other in every lifetime.
One remembers the silence. The other feels the song.
And somewhere in the mortal world, a forgotten veena waits to sing again.