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People don’t create stories; Universal forces make them do.

No matter how hard you try to break them, they always find a way back together.

It’s as if they cannot exist without each other.

In their relationship, there’s no more and no less.

They are equally mad, equally hungry, and equally passionate.

And when the fire on both sides burns equally, that’s when the magic happens.

Rudra and Nandani are that magic.

Their love was fierce and powerful, unforgiving and dangerous.

They had the power to destroy each other, and together, they held the power to destroy the world.

They could have fought against each other, but they chose to fight together, against everything else.

Coming from completely different backgrounds and upbringings, they still managed to unite.

Because they both put in the effort, when he fought against the world for her, she stood up for him.

He came to protect her from herself when she was ready to self-destruct.

So many things were said, and still, they ended up together, because they gave weight to things based on what was deserved.

When Nandani made a Rudra for herself, Rudra made a Nandani for himself, too.

Their compromises were equal, and their sacrifices were similar because their fire burned with the same intensity.

Their bold love survived because they treated each other as equals, one-half of each other, no more, no less.

Simple.

Rudra Nandani.

Even their names, when spoken together, sound like one.

Rudra Nandani

***

Rudraja The Battle of Blood And Blood

“Ranisa,”

an attendant called out, and I looked at her, shocked.

She was panting heavily.

“What happened?”

“Princess—Princess is…”

She struggled to catch her breath.

“What happened to the Princess?”

I asked in panic.

She pointed outside and said, “Princess and Hridaan are fighting again.

They’re pulling each other’s hair.”

I inhaled a deep breath, filled with frustration.

This five-year-old child of Rudra didn’t seem to know how to keep her hands to herself.

I marched outside and saw them screaming at each other and yanking each other’s hair.

“Princess!”

I yelled, pulling her away from him.

The attendant grabbed Hridaan on the other side.

“Stop it, both of you! Why do you two fight so much?”

I scolded them, and she looked at me.

“Maasa, it’s all his fault! He said I wasn’t learning properly!”

she complained, glaring at him.

“No, Choti Maasa, it’s her fault! I just asked a simple question, and when she couldn’t answer it, she started fighting with me!”

he shouted.

“Liar!”

she screamed.

“Stop it, both of you!”

I shouted.

“Say sorry to each other—right now,”

I ordered firmly.

They both looked at me.

“No,” she said.

“No way,”

he echoed.

“Come on, Princess—say sorry to your brother Hridaan,”

I said, my voice laced with authority.

She gritted her teeth.

“HE IS NOT MY brOTHER! I HATE HIM SO MUCHHHHHHHH! He is not my brother, and he can never be my brother!”

she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Hridaan shouted back, his voice full of fury, “SHE’S NOT MY SISTER EITHER! I HATE HER SO MUCH! I’ll kill her someday, Choti Maasa!”

I took a long, deep breath, completely exasperated.

Time to call her father.

***