The Wish

Prince Nihant paced around his room, restless after many nights of little sleep and many thoughts. He didn’t want to be here anymore; he disliked the thought of being a prince. The formalities, the constant demand of the public, and the need to perform-perform-perform for those he cared little. How would he ever escape his role without being condemned by his father and mother? Would his wish ever be accepted?

‘Aaahhh!! I wish I could simply walk away from this place and live my own life!’ exclaimed prince Nihant.

As the words were uttered, he suddenly felt the weight of the room. It seemed the room was slowly falling onto him, crushing him in place. He closed his eyes from the strain and started to hear the sound of large waters churning and mixing, as if he were in the ocean and being swept by the moving waters. He felt like this was happening for hours, yet only after mere seconds, the sensation stopped.

He carefully opened his eyes and looked around the room. By the window, lit by the setting sun, stood Kamadhenu, the mother of all cows and the goddess of plenty.

Kamadhenu stood on all of her four cow legs, a pattern of black and white upon the fur on her hind-body which seemed unremarkable, yet mesmerizing and stunning all at once. Her fore-body was that of a human woman, an alluring continuation of her beastial form. The dying light of the sun shone on her from behind, yet the areas not lit still radiated brilliance, as if the sun was not needed to bestow a shine upon her.

Kamadhenu looked upon the prince, eyes piercing through his thoughts, to the being within, measuring his heart and his soul.

‘I am Kamadhenu, mother of all cows and the goddess of plenty. I have heard your wish, prince Nihant, and may fulfill it. However, such gifts are oft not given freely or without consideration. Speak again, and clearly, what you truly would wish.’ said the goddess. Although speaking gently, her presence held a power to it and commanded prince Nihant’s every ounce of attention.

Nihant knelt down, hands on the floor and eyes focused before her, ‘You honour me with your presence, goddess Kamadhenu. I am ever thankful for your interest in my wish. I will admit I have many wishes, and aside from returning loved ones to me, I would wish to depart these lands, my inheritance as heir to the throne, and my responsibilities as prince and future king. To live peacefully and freely as a simple citizen. This I wish with the blessing of my parents.’ replied NIhant. Although the sight of her was similar to looking at an elaborate painting with such depth to be lost within it, he felt unable to meet her eyes, nor her hooves, and continued looking at the floor before her.

‘Why would one such as yourself want to leave the life of luxury and plenty? Are you not content with what I have given you and your family? Many would go to extremes to live in such abundance.’ said Kamadhenu, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

‘I am ever thankful for what you have given my family and I, goddess Kamadhenu, and would be forever thankful for the continued health and wellness for my parents. I ask this wish as I do not have the heart for this role anymore. I would live as my Nani taught me, and believe I may only attain that away from my current world.’ Nihant replied.

Kamadhenu answered, ‘Very well, prince Nihant. This is a wish with which I may help you. As mentioned before, wishes are not given freely. I require a gift from you. You must give up something of utmost value to you, and upon receiving this gift, your wish will be born.’

Nihant looked around his room, still avoiding looking directly at any aspect of the goddess. What would he consider worthy of his wish? He would not want to displease or insult the goddess with an inferior gift yet, he didn’t care for any of it. He would give it all if he could, however all of this had no value to him. He remained kneeling, and thought hard. He did not believe he would be able to appease Kamadhenu. He searched deep inside himself, searching all aspects of his heart and of his soul.

During his search, only one image came to mind. He placed his hands onto the floor and said,

‘Goddess Kamadhenu, I am grateful for your consideration of my wish and understand what you ask of me. I, however, don’t believe I have anything of material worth that has value to me. In its stead, may I present a memory, or more precisely, a saying my Nani taught me?’ asked Nihant.

Kamadhenu raised her right eyebrow, surprised by his request.

‘You wish to trade a memory, or more precisely, a saying your grandmother taught you for a wish? Do explain to me, prince Nihant, why such a trade would be worthy of my abilities and my time.’ demanded the goddess of cows and of plenty. Although her demand shook the prince to his bones, Kamadhenu’s lips curled ever slightly on one end of her mouth, resembling a small smile.

‘I mean no disrespect, goddess Kamadhenu, and thank you for the opportunity to explain.’ nervously replied Nihant. ‘The saying is not so much what I hold dear but the memories and person attached to it that mean much and more to me. Together, they have formed who I am today and drive me to my current wish.’

Prince Nihant maintained his eye contact to the floor, feeling her piercing eyes read more than his body language. He felt like she could read every aspect of his being!

The goddess moved in Nihant’s direction, taking two steps toward him. ‘Prince Nihant, look into my eyes as I would have a look into your mind and heart and look upon these memories you speak of.’

Nihant, with much difficulty, inched his eyes up from her hooves, to her mid-section, to her chest, her chin, and eventually to her eyes. He did not feel the action itself was difficult but what filled him as he set eyes upon any aspect of her threatened to overwhelm him and have him burst asunder! He felt himself sweat from the strain, beads falling from his forehead into his eyebrows.

Once he met Kamadhenu’s eyes, his room disappeared and all went black. He saw the goddess standing beside him. He didn’t quite feel as if he were made of substance, and as he regarded his arms, hands, and feet, he was, in fact, only a shadow of what he was a few seconds ago.

‘What has happened?’ demanded Nihant, forgetting himself.

‘I would mind your tone and remind you of whom you are speaking to, prince Nihant. A demand is by no means how to address a goddess, especially one with the ability to aid you.’

‘Of course, goddess Kamadhenu.’ Nihant replied, bowing his head in embarrassment.

‘I apologize for my abrupt demand. I am surprised and frightened as to what has happened to me.’

Kmadhenu turned her head towards him, ‘We are in your mind, prince Nihant, and you are currently a figment of your mind. Your being is currently safe in your room and we are now exploring the depths of your mind to bring to surface these memories you spoke of. Let us start at the beginning of where this saying had meaning for you.’

As she finished speaking, Nihant saw images of himself as a young boy, no more than 6, running in a field of grass. His grandmother walking a distance between looking fondly upon him.

As his young self ran and looked back towards his grandmother, he tripped on a large rock and hit the ground hard. His big toe on his left foot throbbed with pain as he wailed in agony. His grandmother covered her mouth in surprise, her forehead creasing as her eyebrows went up. Her long, dark hair unbound and trailing behind her as she quickly ran her way to him. Her soft, grey eyes regarded him as he cried. She carefully inspected the toe and once she determined that no serious damage was done, took her grandson’s head into her arms, kissed his head and gently hummed a soothing song. She held him while he cried, providing the safety and reassurance he needed.

Once he had finished crying and was breathing calmly, she gently took his head into her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. ‘Your bones may break, your skin may be scratched, and words may wound, but your heart and soul, remain pure and whole.’ she told him in such a melodious way it seemed she were still singing.

‘Remember that, my dearest, as even when you are hurt beyond repair, you are gifted with a heart and a soul that will always shine bright.’

Young Nihant nodded sadly and returned his head into his grandmother’s arms.

The memory ended and another came anew.

Nihant was 15, tall and lanky. His hair was dark and cut evenly around his head at a level just above his eyebrows. He stood alone, leaning against the railing at one of the palace terraces overlooking the palace garden. Tears slowly trickling down his cheek. His good marks in school were received with teasing by his classmates. Shunned, embarrassed, and ostracized, Nihant felt alone and unwanted.

He heard gentle footsteps coming from the stairwell nearby. He quickly wiped his tears from his cheek and tried to appear indifferent. His grandmother, her hair now a mixture of black and grey, approached, stood beside him, and faced the palace gardens below.

‘I heard about what happened in school earlier. I am sorry to hear of it.’ she started. ‘It is never easy to achieve connection with some, when we are excelling and they are not. Their comments do not define you, my dear Nihant. Your parents, nor I, define you neither. I can only tell you what I see in you. If you stay true to yourself, my precious grandson, others will see what I see in time.’ As she finished, she turned to face her only grandson. Her grey eyes sought out his eyes as Nihant tried to avoid them. He eventually looked up at her face. She smiled, and her face creased with lines of someone who has smiled much in her life. She now had a look of concern on her face as she looked at him yet the concern he saw was felt as endless well of care and love.

He couldn’t resist much longer and he let his tears flow freely. He hugged his grandmother and said, ‘Thank you, Nani.’. She held him close, humming to him a familiar song, and ended with, ‘Your bones may break, your skin may be scratched, and words may wound, but your heart and soul, remain pure and whole.’ When she ended, she placed her cheek upon his shoulder as he cried in hers.

The memory faded and another memory came to life.

He was now a man grown. Aged 23, he had a beard of medium length, short hair, and a tall yet small and strong frame after years of training. He was away from home with the royal army, repelling an invading host. After having been in several skirmishes, the most recent one saw him at the front lines. He now laid in bed, traumatized by what he had seen and experienced. He had been dealt a deep cut on his left shoulder which had been cleaned and bandaged. He laid on his right side, arms wrapped around himself with his knees up.

There was a knock on the door to his room and a soldier came in, holding a letter. He took the letter and gave his thanks, although his voice caught in his throat, and the soldier walked out. Nihant turned toward the window for more light and opened the letter. He recognized his Nani’s handwriting immediately. The letter wrote:

‘I cannot imagine what it is you’re going through, my precious Nihant. Know that your parents and I pray for you often and for your safe return. I know you have the strength within your heart to seek what you need, and the wisdom in your soul to guide you. You are loved. I hope this may help in your time of need. 

Your bones may break, your skin may be scratched, and words may wound, but your heart and soul, remain pure and whole.’

Nihant finished the letter and returned to laying on his right side on his bed. He held the letter in his right hand and held it against his heart as he wept for the souls that were lost at war.

The memory disappeared. The figment of Nihant’s mind looked down and spoke to Kamadhenu. ‘I think I know where this is leading, and I would chose not to witness it again, please, goddess Kamadhenu.’

‘I am sorry, prince Nihant, but I must see this through to grant you your wish. I am sorry.’ replied the goddess.

The next memory appeared.

They were back at the palace in a large room. The large four post bed were decorated with thin, white curtains that were now open and tied to their respective post. Men and women dressed in white would walk to and from the bed with cloths, and bowls of hot or cold water.

Nihant sat on the side of the bed and addressed the medical staff, ‘Please leave us a moment.’ At his request, the staff left the room, leaving a saddened Nihant, now in his late twenties, looking down at his sickly and pale Nani. Her hair was white and thin, her face wrinkled, yet her eyes, though a thin film of tears covered them, maintained their gentleness and their kindness. She looked up him, and spoke before he could, ‘My dearest Nihant, I am not long for this world. I am old woman now!’ she said with a chuckle. ‘ You have grown into such a wonderful grandson and I am ever proud of you. I have watched you remain true to yourself. Be the star that you are and shine so that others may find their way.’

Nihant looked into his grandmother’s eyes, and felt only admiration and wonder at having her in his life. She gave his life abundance, and he was unsure how he would find it without her.

He wiped a tear from his eye, and place his forehead upon hers.

He said to her, ‘Your bones may break, your skin may be scratched, and words may wound, but your heart and soul, remain pure and whole.’

He held her head in his arms, and heard her start humming a very familiar song. Nihant joined in as best as he could through his tears.

Nihant opened his eyes. He was staring at the floor in his room, kneeling as he was previously. Kamadhenu stood by the window once again and regarded him.

‘Your Nani meant much to you, prince Nihant, and these words she said to you, you would trade away?’ she asked of Nihant.

Nihant, still kneeling, brought his hands upon his lap, still staring at the floor, ‘Yes, goddess Kamadhenu. She always encouraged me to follow my heart and soul and this is what I wish to do. To keep the memory and stay where I am would simply be dishonouring her and the memory. I loved her dearly, and it pains me to choose, but I believe she is smiling at me for my choice. Although I do feel a lack of abundance with her gone, I feel I will find it once more.’

The cow goddess looked upon Nihant, understanding displayed upon her deific face.

‘Your gift I refuse, prince Nihant, but your wish I will grant. Taking away these words from you may change who you are and I do not wish to do so. I believe your Nani suggested a better gift in trade.’

Nihant was startled by the comment. He almost looked up but caught himself.

Kamadhenu contined, ‘Keep your memory and follow your heart and soul. Be the star that you are and shine so that others may find their way. That is your gift to me. Help others as your Nani has helped you. Good night, prince Nihant. May you live your life in abundance and share your wealth with others.’

As Nihant knelt there, surprise and wonder filling him with his wish granted, the room felt like it was slowly falling onto him, crushing him in place. He closed his eyes from the strain and could hear the sound of large waters churning and mixing. After a few seconds, it was gone and as he opened his eyes, Kamadhenu, the mother of all cows and goddess of plenty was gone.

Still kneeling, he placed his palms together and brought his forehead to his thumbs, and prayed a thank you to Kamadhenu and to his beloved Nani.