Rahul Sipligunj and Kaala Bhairava - Naatu Naatu
2021
RRR is a 2022 Indian Telugu-language epic period action drama film starring N. T. Rama Rao Jr. and Ram Charan as fictionalised versions of Indian revolutionaries Komaram Bheem and Alluri Sitarama Raju, respectively, set in the Indian pre-independence era. Made on a budget of ₹550 crore, RRR was the most expensive Indian film at the time of its release. It was released theatrically on 25 March 2022 and became the first Indian film to be released in Dolby Cinema format. It received universal critical acclaim for its direction, screenwriting, cast performances, cinematography, soundtrack, action sequences and VFX. With ₹223 crore worldwide on its first day, RRR recorded the highest opening-day earned by an Indian film at the time. It emerged as the highest-grossing film in its home market of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, grossing over ₹406 crore. The film grossed ₹1,300–1,387 crore worldwide, setting several box office records for an Indian film, becoming the fifth highest-grossing Indian film, the third highest-grossing Telugu film and the highest grossing Indian film of 2022 worldwide. RRR was considered one of the ten best films of the year by the National Board of Review, making it only the second non-English language film ever to make it to the list.
"Naatu Naatu" is composed by M. M. Keeravani, with lyrics by Chandrabose and recorded by Rahul Sipligunj and Kaala Bhairava. It was released on 10 November 2021 as the second single from the soundtrack. The song was also released in Hindi as "Naacho Naacho", in Tamil as "Naattu Koothu", in Kannada as "Halli Naatu" and in Malayalam as "Karinthol". The Telugu word naatu variously translates to 'native', 'local', 'countryside', 'raw and rustic', 'ethnic'. Chandrabose wrote the lyrics based on his childhood memories. The composer Keeravani likened the sound to the traditional beats of folk songs in Indian villages. Keeravani used duffs, an Indian skin drum for the instrumentation and added in mandolins for the melody. Within 24 hours of its release on Youtube, the song crossed over 17 million views in Telugu (becoming the most-viewed Telugu song), and 35 million views in all five languages on Youtube. It also became the fastest Telugu song to cross 1 million likes. In February 2022, the song crossed over 200 million views in all languages.
"Naatu Naatu" won Best Original Song at the 95th Academy Awards and the Golden Globe Awards. RRR also won the awards for Best Foreign Language Film and Best Song at the 28th Critics' Choice Awards. At the 69th National Film Awards, the film won six awards, including Best Popular Feature Film, Best Music Direction (Keeravani) and Best Male Playback Singer (Kaala Bhairava for "Komuram Bheemudo"). RRR also fetched the state Telangana Gaddar Film Award for Best Feature Film.
"Naatu Naatu" received a total of 74,5% yes votes!
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Summary - Vrinda lived her entire life alone, so when a temple visit goes horribly wrong and she falls into a river, she wakes up in the world of Baahubali. What happens when Bhallaladeva falls in love with her? Will she rewrite his fate or become a part of the tragedy?
[ Disclaimer - This is a fanfiction based on the Indian movie franchise - Bāhubali. All the characters (except Vrinda) mentioned in this fic belong to the makers of the movie. ]
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The evening aarti had just come to an end.
The rhythmic chanting of the priests faded into silence as devotees slowly trickled out of the ancient stone temple, their footsteps echoing against the weathered floors. The smell of incense hung in the air, mingling with the scent of rain soaked earth.
Vrinda lingered behind.
She stood before Krishna for a few moments longer, her hands folded in a prayer, she lowered them with a sigh.
“I…don’t know what you have planned for me,” she said quietly “But I hope it gets better…”
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she stepped outside.
The sky had darkened far earlier than it should have. Thick clouds rolled overhead, swallowing the last rays of sunlight, painting the sky in shades of gray.
A cool breeze brushed against her face.
Instead of going towards the main entrance towards the main road, she turned to a narrow stone path leading behind.
There, hidden from the crowd, flowed a quiet river.
It had always been her favourite place.
The gentle murmur of water always had a way to calm her mind.
Slowly and carefully she stepped across the damp stones before settling herself on a large rock overlooking the river.
The wind played with the loose strands of her hair, she pulled the pallu tighter around herself.
Life had not been kind.
She had lost her father when she was only five years old. Years later, cancer had taken her mother too, leaving behind a silence that no amount of work or routine managed to fill.
She had managed to complete her education with whatever little amount of money her mother had left behind.
Now, her days blurred together – work, home, sleep, repeat.
Nothing extraordinary, nothing worth remembering.
She threw herself into work all the week, even when her mind protested just to avoid going to an empty house, the fact that no one would be waiting for her made her heart ache everyday.
Except on weekends when she would watch movies to escape from reality. Fantasy and action being her favourite kind.
When she was in college she started watching movies in her free time to cope with loneliness. But now years later it had become a weekly ritual, where she would either watch a new movie or rewatch her most favourite ones over and over again.
She stared at the flowing river.
“Maybe.” she whispered to herself, “Some stories are better than real life.”
If only those worlds existed in reality.
If only heroes like that truly walked the earth.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the temple grounds.
The bells began ringing. Once. Twice, then all together.
Vrinda frowned, there was no one to pull them.
She rose to her feet.
“I should leave.” she murmured to herself.
She turned.
Her foot landed on a rain-slick stone.
Then–
It slipped.
Time became still for a moment before she plunged into the river.
The freezing water swallowed her whole.
She thrashed instinctively, trying to reach the surface but the current below was stronger, outside the wind picked up, howling violently. The sky tore apart in a furious storm.
The river pulled Vrinda deeper and deeper into itself. The sound of the storm was muffled and distant.
Her lungs burned.
Darkness crept into the edges of her vision.
The last thing she saw before falling unconscious was a flash of blue and the distant sound of a conch shell.
The waters of Jeevanadhi flowed calmly beneath the fading evening.
Along its banks stood military camps.
The fluttering banners marked their encampment. Soldiers moved around collecting firewood, tending to horses and preparing night meals. Small fires had begun to glow across the camp as the last traces of sunlight disappeared beyond the mountains.
Not far from the main camp, two soldiers made their way towards the river.
“Finally,” one of them said. “I thought he wouldn’t leave us until we cleared the forest in the name of firewood.”
His companion chuckled.
“You complain everyday.”
The two knelt by the river, splashing the cold water on their faces.
Suddenly one of them froze. Looking ahead of him.
“Do you see that?” he nudged the other soldier.
“What?”
“There.”
Beneath the surface, something pale drifted by.
“...it could be a log?”
“What if it’s a person?”
Without thinking he jumped into the freezing waters. He swam towards the unmoving figure and grabbed a hold of their arm.
“It’s a woman!”
Together both of them got her out of the river.
She was unconscious.
Her pulse was weak.
“Quick! Let’s take her to the physician.”
By the time they reached the medical tent, the entire camp knew.
A woman was found in Jeevanadhi.
The news spread from soldier to soldier faster than wildfire.
Who was she?
Where did she come from?
There were no villages nearby.
How did she end up in the river?
It was as though the river itself had brought her.
Hours later.
Vrinda’s fingers twitched. A dull ache pulsed through her head.
She slowly opened her eyes expecting a white ceiling.
But the ceiling above her was not even concrete, it was…cloth?
She looked around what looked like a tent.
There were no machines or the sterile scent of antiseptic instead there were oil lamps and clay pots hung from poles, there was a wooden chest in the corner, the smell of medicinal herbs overwhelmed her.
“Where am I?” she whispered to herself.
The flap of the tent opened and in stepped a young soldier with a wooden bowl in his hands.
He looked up.
She looked back.
They stared at each other.
His eyes widened.
“She’s awake!”
He shouted so loudly, Vrinda nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Why are you shouting?” she hissed at him.
Within seconds three more soldiers hurried inside.
“She opened her eyes!”
“Should we call the physician?”
“I already did.”
Vrinda looked from one bewildered face to another.
Their armors, their clothes, their swords…swords?
They looked real, far too real.
Every instinct screamed at her to leave.
She stumbled out of the cot.
One soldier immediately held up both the arms.
“Devi, please don’t get—”
Too late.
She bolted right past them.
“Stop her!”
“Why is she escaping?”
“You were talking to her!”
“I only said she was awake!”
Vrinda darted between them, narrowly avoiding a soldier who was entering with a steaming bowl. The poor man yelped as the hot liquid almost burnt his hands.
“Sorry!” Vrinda said.
“Catch her!”
“Don’t scare her!”
“You just told us to catch her!”
“Not like that!”
Vrinda ducked beneath another soldier’s outstretched arm. She hurried between the rows of tents. A stable boy hastily pulled away his horse before she could collide into it.
Vrinda darted around another tent—
And came to an abrupt halt.
A large crowd had gathered around the bonfire. Their laughing and shouting ceased when they noticed her standing there, with wide eyes and heavy breath. An uneasy silence settled over them.
The soldiers who were trying to catch her slowed to a stop.
Every eye was now fixed upon her.
Whispers rippled through the camp.
Panic slowly tightened in her chest.
This…This wasn’t possible.
Then she noticed the banners and flags fluttering in the breeze. The symbol on it, she had seen it somewhere before.
But where?
She couldn’t remember, not through the haze clouding her mind.
A voice spoke from behind her.
“Do not fear devi. You are safe among us.”
She spun around.
Her eyes fell on an older warrior, he was bald, clad in dark armor. Beside him stood a younger man, tall and broad-shouldered.
Her eyes were fixed on him.
She couldn’t see their faces properly just under the moonlight but the moment the nearby torch flickered.
No…
No that couldn’t be.
Her lips parted.
“...Baahubali?” she whispered.
Her breathing got heavier, her gaze flickered to the older man.
“Kattappa?”
Her heart stopped for a moment.
Every ounce of colour drained from her face.
Her gaze darted wildly around the camp.
The flags, the horses, the soldiers and their armors. Everything looked like something she had seen on the screen a hundred times.
“No…” she said, taking an unsteady step backwards, “no…no, no…”
Kattappa frowned.
Her mind was racing.
Is this Mahishmati?
That’s Kattappa…
That’s Baahubali…
A horrifying realization struck her,
I’m inside Baahubali.
“This can’t be happening…”
Her vision blurred, the edges of the world darkened.
The voices around her became distant.
Her knees gave away.
Before she could collapse—
A pair of strong arms caught her effortlessly.
The sudden warmth pulled her from spiralling darkness just for a heartbeat.
A face hovered over her with sharp features and piercing eyes.
Bhallaldeva.
He looked down at her, one arm securely supporting her as if she weighed nothing.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment.
Then darkness swallowed her once again.
Consciousness returned to her. A dull ache throbbed behind her temples as warmth replaced the icy chill that had engulfed her.
The first thing she noticed was the fragrance of sandalwood and fresh herbs lingering in the air. Somewhere nearby women spoke in hushed voices while the soft clinking of vessels echoed through the room.
Vrinda’s eyelashes fluttered open.
Intricately carved beams stretched overhead. Pale cotton curtains swayed gently to the morning breeze.
She simply stared at the ceiling in silence before the memories came rushing back all at once—the temple, the river…Mahishmati.
A young woman approached the cot Vrinda was laying on.
As soon as she noticed Vrinda was awake.
“Oh! She's awake.” She turned around to the other women and told them.
Within seconds a few other young girls crowded near the bed.
They were staring at her.
Vrinda was staring back.
She shifted uncomfortably under their gazes.
“Hey! Move away everyone. You're all probably scaring her. Let her breathe.” An older voice came from behind.
The girls parted away and Vrinda saw a middle-aged woman walking towards her.
“Whe—where am I?” Vrinda asked.
“You are in the medical wing of the Palace. In Mahishmati.”
“What happened?”
“They found you in the river last evening, you've been out all night. What is your name?”
She hesitated for a moment before answering.
“...Vrinda.”
The woman nodded.
One of the younger girls spoke up.
“Where are you from?”
For one terrifying moment, her mind went blank.
Hyderabad? No.
India? No.
Think.
“Ma—Mangapuram.”
“Huh? Never heard about that.” A girl said.
“It's a…very small village far down south.”
“Do you feel alright? Do you want to eat something?”
“No…no I'm fine.”
“How did you fall into the river? The soldiers said you tried to escape before fainting again.”
Her heart was pounding, she didn't know what to tell them.
Her voice trembled.
Her lips pressed together, she looked down.
“They were going to sell me to a merchant.”
She swallowed hard.
“So I ran.”
The older woman looked at her with sympathy in her eyes, the girls were concerned.
“I have nowhere to go…” Vrinda whispered.
“It’s okay, it'll be fine.” The older woman said, handing her a glass of water.
“I’m Lakshmi.”
“You say you have nowhere to return…”
Vrinda nodded.
“I serve Rajamata Sivagami as the head maid.”
She studied Vrinda for a moment.
“If your story is true…perhaps Mahishmati can become your home.”
Warm water with scented herbs had been prepared for her. The older woman insisted she bathed before going to meet Rajamata.
One of the younger girls stepped forward carrying neatly folded garments.
“These belonged to one of the attendants.” she said.
Vrinda accepted them with a grateful smile.
The young woman helped her drape. The cotton was soft and finely woven. It was neither too bland nor anything grand, just a simple saree.
Not long afterwards, Lakshmi returned.
“Rajamata Sivagami has agreed to meet you.” She told Vrinda.
“Now?”
“Now. Rajamata doesn't enjoy waiting.” Lakshmi said, telling her to follow.
Vrinda turned towards the polished bronze mirror on the wall, making sure she was presentable.
Vrinda took a slow breath before following the older woman out into the palace corridors.
The moment she stepped outside,
She forgot to breathe.
Towering stone pillars stretched towards the intricately carved ceiling. Every wall bore sculptures of elephants, warriors and gods so detailed they appeared ready to step out from the stone itself.
Sunlight streamed through the high latticed windows, bathing the floor in golden patterns.
Magnificent archways led to one courtyard after another.
Servants moved quietly carrying baskets of fruits, brass vessels and rolled carpets. The guards stood motionless beside enormous doors.
Vrinda turned slowly in a circle.
“This…this is crazy…” she whispered to herself. “Magnificent…”
Vrinda reached out instinctively letting her fingertips brush one of the gigantic pillars.
No camera would ever capture the sheer scale of the palace.
No amount of cgi or effects could recreate this feeling.
Suddenly she remembered how many times she had wished for something like this to be real. And now she was walking through it.
They stopped before a pair of enormous wooden doors.
Two royal guards stood on either side of the door, their spears crossed before the entrance.
Vrinda straightened the folds of her saree. Her palms began to sweat.
She was going to meet Rajamata Sivagami.
The woman whose single decision had shaped the fate of an entire Kingdom.
Lakshmi gave her a reassuring nod before the guards pushed the massive doors open.
With a deep groan of ancient wood, the chamber slowly revealed itself.
Vrinda followed Lakshmi inside.
The hall was vast.
At the far end of the hall, atop a raised dais sat Rajamata Sivagami.
She wore a rich crimson saree laced with a golden border, and one heavy necklace adorned her neck. Her posture was perfectly straight and her expression, calm yet unreadable.
Even seated, she seemed larger than life.
Two guards and one armed woman stood behind her like statues.
Lakshmi slowed before the dais and joined her hands respectfully.
Vrinda remained rooted to her spot for a heartbeat before lowering her head and hurriedly copying her.
“Rajamata.” Lakshmi said respectfully, “this is the young woman the soldiers found in Jeevanadhi.”
Silence followed.
Vrinda could feel Sivagami's eyes studying her.
“Raise your head.”
For the first time she looked directly at Sivagami.
She had admired the character countless times on screen but standing before her was entirely different.
Those eyes carried authority born from ruling the empire for decades.
“You are called?”
“Vrinda”
“And your homeland?”
“...Mangapuram, Rajamata.”
Sivagami's fingers tapped against the carved armrest.
“I know the villages under Mahishmati's protection…I do not recall one by that name.”
Vrinda's heartbeat quickened.
“It…it lies farther south than your borders.”
“You attempted to flee from my soldiers.”
“I…be—believed I was in danger.”
Lakshmi stepped forward.
“Rajamata, she says her family intended to sell her to a merchant. She escaped and fell into the river.”
Sivagami's expression did not soften.
Finally Sivagami rose from her throne.
The movement alone made everyone in the room straighten.
Vrinda instinctively lowered her gaze again.
“You will serve within the palace walls, you will obey the laws of the place.” She turned to Lakshmi, “Assign her simple tasks, see that she is taught our customs and observe her.”
Then she turned to Vrinda.
“and should I discover that your presence threatens Mahishmati, I will not hesitate to cast you out.”
Vrinda nodded.
As Vrinda stepped backwards to leave, she stole one last glance at the formidable queen.
She's exactly as I imagined…
No.
She is even more intimidating than the films showed.
The first few days passed by in a blur.
Vrinda quickly learned that the palace never truly slept.
Before sunrise, the attendants were already awake, sweeping the corridors, polishing brass items until they gleamed, arranging flowers in vases.
Lakshmi proved to be strict but a patient teacher.
“Never turn your back on Rajamata before taking permission.”
“Always announce yourself before entering a chamber.”
“No running in the corridors.”
“Never say no to a member of the royal family. You obey their order.”
By the end of the week Vrinda had forgotten how many times she was corrected.
The customs were unfamiliar yet she found herself adapting to them faster than expected.
She learnt which corridor belonged to the royal family, which courtyards servants were forbidden to cross and where the palace cooks hid the sweets.
The other attendants gradually stopped seeing her as the mysterious girl found in the river, she simply became Vrinda.
Sometimes while carrying trays of fresh flowers through the palace, she'd catch herself smiling.
This was Mahishmati.
It was all real.
And this reality felt quieter than the films.
There were no dramatic speeches or battles every other day, just the quiet rhythm of palace life.
She hadn't seen either of the princes since the night at the military camp.
When she casually asked another servant where they were, the girl looked at her as though the answer was obvious.
“Away with the army of course.”
“Oh…”
Vrinda nodded, pretending the answer meant little.
But inwardly she felt an unexpected disappointment.
Days passed
The princes remained absent.
Just when Vrinda thought she had learnt a task, Lakshmi would come up with another.
“Today you will help in the kitchens.”
Vrinda nodded confidently.
The confidence lasted for a total of ten minutes.
She instinctively used the same ingredients she'd always use at home.
“What did you put in it?” the elderly cook sniffed the shimmering pot.
“... tamarind?”
“And?”
“A little coriander powder.”
One of the younger attendants cautiously tastes the curry.
“It isn't bad…just a little tangy.”
By lunchtime the cooks were arguing over whether Vrinda's strange recipe was brilliant or completely outrageous.
Lakshmi pinched the bridge of her nose.
“From tomorrow, you will follow our recipes.”
On another morning, Lakshmi handed her a basket of marigold flowers to make garlands for the grand palace shrine.
“Surely this can't be difficult.” She muttered to herself.
She sat down with the other maidens determined to impress everyone with her artistic skills.
Five minutes later—
The thread had somehow got tangled around her wrist, half the petals from the marigolds had fallen across her lap and a couple of them somehow ended up in her hair.
“I don't understand how this happened…”
A chorus giggles erupted around her.
An elderly attendant took away the remaining flowers and carefully untangled the thread from her wrist.
“The flowers are supposed to go onto the string,” she laughed.
“Not on your hair.”
Vrinda smiled sheepishly.
By the end of the afternoon she had produced a slightly crooked garland.
Lakshmi examined it thoughtfully.
“I've seen worse…”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn't.”
Lakshmi appeared beside Vrinda just as she was done arranging lotus flowers in a brass vase.
“Vrinda.”
She turned immediately.
“Yes?”
“Take these to Rajamata,” she said, handing Vrinda a silver tray carrying two goblets of spiced buttermilk. “She’s in her private chambers. And enter only after the permission is given.”
“I know…”
“And don’t stand staring.”
Vrinda gave her an innocent smile, “I would never.”
Lakshmi slightly narrowed her eyes.
The palace corridors were quieter than usual, Vrinda balanced the tray carefully as she ascended the stone staircase leading to the Queen mother’s private chambers.
Two guards stood outside the carved teak doors. The guards announced the arrival of refreshments and Rajamata told them to send her in.
“ —wild elephants for amusement.” Vrinda heard as she was entering the chamber.
She froze for the briefest moment.
Her eyes lifted instinctively and her world seemed to pause.
Standing beside Sivagami, was the elder prince. Bhallaladeva.
He stood impossibly tall, dressed in a light purple angavastram, a gold ornament rested upon his chest. He listened to Sivagami very carefully. Every inch of his posture radiating quiet confidence.
His features were sharper than she remembered from the films.
He wasn’t a fictional character anymore.
He was a real man.
An extraordinarily handsome one.
Good Lord…
She hurriedly lowered her eyes before they could notice.
“This is the palace that is being constructed for you on the banks of Pranahita. Do you like it, Bhalla?”
Oh.
She knew this scene, her heart began beating faster as she realized at what point of time this scene happens and what happens after that.
This means, Baahubali is already on his way to Kuntala.
She thought.
She stood quietly near the entrance as she watched Sivagami proudly showing off the gifts she had planned for him.
A guard stepped forward and handed Rajamata a bow.
“The specially made bow that can aim arrows as far as thousand feet is ready for you.” she said, as she pulled at the string of the bow aiming an imaginary arrow.
“Mother.” Bhallaladeva said. “You gave the throne to brother…are you trying to compensate for it by giving me all these things? Your son is not a low-life to hanker after the throne.” he gently held her by the shoulders.
“It was an order by Rajamata Sivagami.” He held her hands to his chest, “Don’t decrease its value with these gifts, Mother.”
Vrinda watched him as his features softened.
For a moment, she didn’t see him as the larger-than-life villain.
He looked…human.
He turned away from Rajamata and walked towards the entrance.
Vrinda watched as his soft expression slowly contorted into disdain.
Vrinda lowered her eyes once again when he briefly glanced her way. Vrinda stepped aside a little when he walked past her.
As soon as he left she let out a quiet breath.
Golden rays of morning sunlight spilled across the eastern balconies, warming the cold stone floor beneath Vrinda's feet as she swept the corridor, a pile of dried leaves and dust rested beside her.
Lakshmi had assigned her to cleaning the eastern balconies overlooking an inner courtyard today.
She didn't mind, it was peaceful.
The only sounds were a few birds chirping in the distance and scrape of her broom against the floor.
Vrinda hummed absentmindedly as she swept another pile of dried leaves into the basket.
A sharp whistle suddenly sliced through the morning air as she turned the corner.
She looked up.
Below in the expansive training courtyard, a lone figure stood in the centre.
Bhallaladeva.
He wore a simple dhoti tied securely. The rest of his upper body was bare, the morning light caught the faint sheen of sweat across skin.
A long spear spun effortlessly in his hand.
Vrinda stopped sweeping.
The weapon blurred through the air so quickly that Vrinda found it hard to keep track of the movement. The spear swept low and then was raised into a powerful arc. Each strike echoed through the courtyard, sending small dust clouds of sand into the air.
Vrinda took a step closer to the railing, she gently placed her palm on the pillar beside, her gaze fixed onto him with amusement.
He’s really…
The thought died unfinished.
He changed the weapon as two servants rushed forward carrying a massive golden-coloured mace. The iron head looked so heavy that the servants struggled to merely place it down without toppling over it.
Bhallaladeva lifted it with one hand.
Vrinda blinked.
Of course.
She shouldn’t have been surprised.
He swung the mace once, the rush of air reached the balcony where she stood. A nearby wooden practice post splintered under the impact.
Vrinda winced instinctively.
The corner of her lips curved into a smile, she started leaning against the railing, completely forgetting the broom resting in her hand.
Below Bhallaladeva slowed.
Something, a familiar feeling as though someone was watching him.
His gaze lifted towards the balcony where she stood.
Vrinda’s eyes widened, before their eyes could meet, she ducked behind the pillar with all the grace of someone who has not been staring.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
She stayed in that position for a solid five minutes before carefully, very carefully peeking around the pillar.
The courtyard was now empty.
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The palace kitchens were alive with activity.
The older cooks were barking orders over the crackling heat while the younger servants tried to keep up with them while hurrying between the grinding stones and clay ovens. The scent of roasted spices lingered heavily in the air.
Vrinda carried a broad winnowing basket with freshly harvested grains.
“Separate the husks and stones from the grains properly!” one of the older cooks instructed her, “The royal kitchens don’t serve pebbles.”
Vrinda gritted her teeth as she moved towards the open space near the windows, gently tossing the grains into the air letting the breeze carry away the dry chaff.
Strands of hair clung to her neck as beads of sweat collected on her skin due to the heat of the kitchen.
Step.
Toss.
Step.
Toss.
Step—
Just as she passed one of the windows overlooking the stables, something caught her eye.
Bhallaladeva was there, beside him was a mighty black stallion. One of his hands was brushing against the horse’s mane, while the other was holding the reins.
Vrinda’s gaze lingered on him for a couple of seconds before she walked past the sight, but a moment later she leaned back just enough to peek without being suspicious.
The horse had now rested its head on Bhallaladeva’s shoulder, he sighed dramatically before giving it an absent-minded pat.
Vrinda blinked in amusement. This was new, this was probably the softest she has ever seen him and she didn’t even think something like this would be possible.
She hurried away before someone would notice her staring outside for an unusual amount of time.
Outside, Bhallaladeva glanced towards the window.
For the second time he had felt someone watching him.
He frowned thoughtfully before turning back to his horse.
The palace lay wrapped in silence.
Most of the lamps had long since burned low, their flickering fires casted shadows along the walls of the deserted hallways.
Sleep refused to come for Vrinda.
She turned around for what felt like the hundredth time that night before finally giving up.
“...okay, I'm hungry.” she muttered to herself.
Very quietly she slipped out of the attendants’ quarters and padded barefoot through the hallways to the royal kitchens.
Vrinda tiptoed inside.
“So…”she looked around, “Where did they hide them?”
Her eyes scanned every shelf.
Nothing.
She checked behind a brass pot.
Nothing.
Near the stoves and ovens.
Nothing.
Then she looked up.
Suspended from a thick wooden beam by a rope hung round clay pots.
A slow grin had spread on her face.
She dragged over a slightly wobbly wooden stool and carefully she climbed onto it.
Still too high.
She reached on her tip toes, her fingers brushed against the nearest pot.
With one final stretch she managed to play the pot to herself.
“Yes!”
She clutched the pot to her chest before climbing down the stool very carefully, then she opened the lid.
Inside was freshly churned white butter.
It looked nothing like the frozen chemical blocks she bought from supermarkets.
This looked rich, fresh and creamy.
She set the pot aside and looked around for a ladle and a bowl.
She scooped a considerable amount of butter into a brass bowl, then carefully she dipped a finger into it and brought it to her lips.
The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes widened.
“Oh…”
It melted almost instantly.
She stared at the butter in complete disbelief.
Another taste.
Then another.
“Oh my god…”
All the advertisements back home claiming, ‘fresh butter’, ‘traditional’, ‘farm fresh’.
Lies. All lies.
“I’ve been cheated my entire life.”
A quiet hum of satisfaction escaped her lips.
“Ahem.”
She froze.
Her hand was still halfway to her mouth. She turned around slowly.
Standing in the doorway was Bhallaladeva, one hand resting against the carved wooden frame. Watching her.
His expression was perfectly composed, only his eyes carried the faintest trace of amusement.
Vrinda’s soul left her body.
Her instinct screamed at her to flee, so she did.
Only to stumble into the edge of the stool, losing her balance rather ungracefully.
Her knees buckled and she fell onto the floor.
Her head hung low, she didn’t dare lift it.
Silently, he walked towards her and held out his palm. She looked at it but didn’t have the courage to take it.
So, he held out once more.
After an embarrassingly long second.
She placed her hand in his.
His grip was firm as he pulled her up with effortless ease.
The moment she regained balance again, she withdrew her hand as though his touch had burned her.
She lowered her eyes.
“My apologies, Yuvraj.”
He regarded her for a moment.
“What’s your name?”
She hesitated.
“...Vrinda.”
He repeated quietly to himself.
Then she gave the quickest bow in recorded history and hastily walked out of the kitchen.
Bhalladeva watched her leave and looked back at the butter pot, he removed the lid and looked inside.
A generous amount of butter had already disappeared.
He let out a light chuckle.
Then he leaned against the wall and scooped the butter with his hand, tasting it.
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