The red lehenga shimmered like a dream in the moonlight, as Madhurani, an apsara from heaven, descended onto the Earth. Her full lips, naturally crimson, didn’t require a touch of rouge, and to shield her from the prying eyes of the crowd, her mother carefully applied kajal to her daughter’s eyes. Madhurani’s friends surrounded her like bees circling honey, each of them mesmerized by her beauty and grace.
The whole village had gathered at Vijubha’s house today. Vijubha, usually a humble man, was filled with joy beyond measure. After all, his only daughter, Madhurani, was about to marry the powerful Rana Seth, the most influential man in the area.
Vijubha was a simple man, a farmer with a small plot of land at the edge of the village. His life revolved around growing crops to feed his family, and his biggest concern had always been the marriage of his daughter. The arrival of the marriage proposal from Rana Seth was the answer to his worries. When Rana Seth’s family sent the proposal for Madhurani, Vijubha couldn’t have been happier—his daughter would marry the most powerful man in the region.
Rana Seth’s name was known far and wide. His influence stretched beyond the village into neighboring towns. No one could leave or enter the village without his permission, and even the Panchayat meetings were held only with his consent. His mansion stood in the middle of the village, a grand symbol of his power. Soon, Madhurani would be the lady of that mansion, and it filled her mother with pride as she went from house to house in the village sharing the news:
“Ramila, Vimala, my daughter is about to become the Sethani!”
The celebrations began with music and dancing, fireworks exploding in the sky. The villagers cheered, as Rana Seth arrived in grand fashion, riding a white stallion toward Madhurani’s home. His presence commanded attention, and the people fell silent in awe.
"Shethani...oh, Shethani!" someone in the crowd murmured with envy. "What a turn of fortune for Vijubha. His daughter will soon live in luxury."
Madhurani, however, sat alone in her room, her emotions a mix of excitement and dread. The joy of her family was palpable, but within her, an unease simmered. Her mother’s hands had carefully applied the kajal to her eyes, but now, as the moment grew closer, the tear-filled eyes of Madhurani betrayed her true feelings. Her thoughts raced—was this truly the beginning of her new life, or was it the start of something far darker?
She gazed out of the window toward the gathering outside. She saw Rana Seth walking toward the wedding pavilion, his steps deliberate, his presence overwhelming. Her heart began to race, and the thought of becoming his wife filled her with a strange mixture of fear and resignation. As the people cheered and danced around her, she quietly stood up, wiped away her tears, and moved to the back door.
The cold air outside felt like a sharp contrast to the warm, festive atmosphere inside. She peered around cautiously, her eyes darting. And then, her gaze fell on Rana Seth, advancing slowly toward the pavilion, dressed in his finest clothes. His eyes gleamed with hunger, not just for the riches, but for the power he would have over her. Madhurani’s heart pounded as she watched him. There was no warmth in his gaze, no tenderness in his expression. It was the look of a man who had claimed everything he desired—except for her.
Madhurani’s breath caught in her throat. The future she had been raised to believe was a dream—wealth, status, power—now felt like an insurmountable cage. She could feel her feet moving before she even thought about it, her body pulling her toward the back gate. She had to leave. She had to run.
With a trembling hand, she pushed open the door and stepped into the night. The night air was cool, but her pulse burned with a fiery urgency. She didn’t dare look back, even as she heard the loud celebration continuing behind her. She sprinted through the darkness, her feet pounding against the earth. The sharp stones on the ground felt like daggers to her bare feet, but the pain was nothing compared to the suffocating dread that had taken hold of her heart.
The sound of footsteps behind her, heavy and unrelenting, told her she was not alone. Rana Seth had seen her leave. He was coming after her.
Madhurani’s legs were growing weak, and the blood from the blisters on her feet stained the ground, but she could not stop. The thought of him, of his eyes burning with a predatory hunger, drove her forward. She reached the edge of the village, and in the distance, she saw a familiar sight—the old banyan tree, the very place where she had spent her childhood.
This banyan tree held all of her memories—the happy, carefree days of youth, the laughter of her family, the whispering winds that had always brought her peace. She remembered sitting under its shade, dreaming of a life far removed from the constraints of village traditions. The roots of the tree had been her sanctuary. But now, as she approached it, the peace she had once felt here was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of finality.
Her eyes scanned the darkness, and then she heard a voice. A familiar voice—soft, low, and filled with longing.
"Kundan... Kundan..." The name escaped her lips in a whisper, as if calling him to her through the night.
And then, from the shadows, a figure emerged. Kundan, the boy she had loved since childhood. The boy from a lower caste, a boy who had been everything to her—until society had torn them apart. Their love had never been accepted by their families or the village. And now, as fate would have it, he was standing before her, his eyes filled with the same love and pain that reflected in her own.
“Madhurani,” Kundan whispered, his voice breaking as he stepped toward her. He took her hands in his, and she could feel his warmth, the only comfort she had ever known. “I knew you would come. I always knew you would.”
The two of them stood there, in the shadows of the banyan tree, as the sounds of the village celebrations echoed in the distance. Madhurani could feel her heart ache for the life that could have been, for the love they had once shared. But now, it was too late. She was being forced into a marriage she didn’t want, a life she hadn’t chosen.
Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at Kundan. “I couldn’t marry him, Kundan. I couldn’t live with him. I just couldn’t…”
Kundan nodded solemnly, understanding the depths of her pain. “I know,” he whispered. “But what will we do now? Where will we go?”
Before Madhurani could answer, the sound of hooves approached. The noise of Rana Seth’s men could be heard in the distance. They were coming. She had to leave. She had to run. But where?
Suddenly, the silence of the night was shattered as the flash of torches appeared on the horizon. Rana Seth had found them. His fury was palpable, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than any torch.
“Find her!” he screamed. “Bring her back to me!”
Madhurani’s heart raced. She clutched Kundan’s hand tighter, and in that moment, she knew there was no escape. They were trapped.
In the distance, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. And then, out of nowhere, the sharp sting of an arrow pierced the night air. The scene before her blurred, as she and Kundan both fell to the ground, the world spinning.
In the soft moonlight, their bodies lay lifeless under the banyan tree, as the torches grew closer, casting long shadows across the land. The love they had shared, the dreams they had once held, were now lost forever.
As the villagers and Rana Seth stood silently watching, none could comprehend the depth of the tragedy that had unfolded. The banyan tree, once a symbol of innocence and hope, now stood as a silent witness to a love that had been crushed by the cruel hands of fate.
The moon shone brightly, but for Madhurani and Kundan, it was the last light they would ever see.
