SIMPLY SHOBANA

The Goddess of the Himawan

THE GODDESS OF THE HIMAWAN is a story I started quite some time ago, delayed by the recent unfortunate events. Let me know what you think of the story so far. I am hoping to have it published sometime in the first week of January if all goes well. Thank you for reading.

INTRODUCTION:

While on a hunting trip, the crown prince, Abuvaya, of the Kingdom of Hintrupate, and his aides hear a baby’s cry.

When they stop to check, his men find an infant wrapped in a tattered blanket hidden among some bushes.

They find a note with a name written tucked between the folds of the blanket.

They carry the crying child to the prince, and when he holds her in his arms, the infant stops crying.

Abuvaya takes the child back to the palace to adopt the child as his own.

His advisor tells him that her name is Marianetta and is of Christian heritage.

The King of Hintrupate, a devout Hindu, would only allow the adoption if the crown prince agreed that the child learned from the highest Hindu scholars and philosophers in the land and embraced the religion.

Abuvaya agreed to do as his father wished.

The beautiful Princess Marianetta grew up to be kind-hearted, wise, and loyal, and she was loved by the people of the Kingdom.

She also had the voice of a lark, and her melodious voice enticed a peasant who had entered the Kingdom from the mountain area, the Himavans.

His family had perished in an avalanche, and he wanted to move to a new place.

Harinder falls in love with the princess, but first, he has to prove to the King that he is worthy to be known as a subject of the Kingdom of Hintrupate.

A Sneak Preview of Chapter Six:

Harinder had a dream on his first night at the shack.

It was about a nightingale and a flautist.

On a walk in the wilderness, the flautist saw a nightingale perched atop a branch of a tree. He called out to the bird, “O nightingale, why do you not sing tonight? The night is young, and the moon doth sprinkle upon the ground its sacred light.

The nightingale looked this way and that and said in return, “Though the moon doth sprinkle its light upon the ground, no streams of rhythm nor a song comes to mind, to match the moon and its splendorous revealing. The moon is beguiling, my friend.”

The flautist thought for a while. He sat himself down under the tree and saw the moonlight fall a little on his form.

The nightingale watched him like a hawk.

The flautist took out his flute, looked up at the nightingale, and said, “I shall play a tune to match the moonshine for you. You can sing along if you want.”

The soothing sounds of the flute reached the far corners of the land. The nightingale became a shadow, for it couldn’t match the melodic composition of the song he played on the flute, a love song that awoke the night from its slumber.

“To whom does he perform this beauteous rendition of a love song? I have never heard sounds of such flamboyance,” the nightingale questioned in its tiny heart. “For his performance is known or seen by none but me. Does he not know that he has the flair of a songbird and the gift of a pied piper? He has woken the night from its slumber.”

When the flautist stopped, the nightingale flew down to where he sat.

“Surely a magician with a flute, you are! Your song has traversed far and wide. Who knows if all who kept the night for sleeping have now woken to a soulful remedy. It is a song for the night revelers.

Tonight, the Goddess of the Himavan has been woken from sleep, and she waits impatiently to hear you play once again. Would you come by again when the moon doth sprinkle dust on these grounds to play as you did tonight?”

The flautist smiled, knowing that he passed a way, but once, and never did he retrace his steps upon the grounds that he had walked on before.

He got up, and without uttering a word to the nightingale, sprinkled some stardust upon the barren land on which he stood and wished upon it much life and vigor.

The Goddess of the Himavan and he had made a pact. For upon the land that he blesses, creation would multiply and thrive.

EXPECTED DATE OF PUBLICATION BETWEEN 03.01.2022 – 05.01.2022

– shobana –

Publishers are welcome to contact me for the manuscript. Thank you.

Health is the real Wealth

It is true that health is the real wealth. You can have millions in your bank account but if you are not healthy to lead a charmed life with it, then it is pure waste. What is the point of spending astronomically on medical bills and being bed-ridden, unable to enjoy the foods of your choice, and not being able to do things that you love? Without health, life is a constant battle to stay alive.

The whole month of November and up to Christmas Eve was harrowing. Family members were falling sick one by one, and I think I had an angel by my side to keep me going. But before that, there was this someone from the United Kingdom who didn’t leave me a review and who kept my spirit alive by buying a book of mine on my birthday. It was a pleasant surprise. I only hope that my book did justice to his thoughtful act. Thank you.

As I was saying, every other day was a trip to the hospital for tests after tests. Waiting for the results of the test was truly insane. It took all my strength to stay positive, especially when I could see excruciating pain staring back at me. 

Suddenly, it brought back memories of my father and sister who suffered so much before they passed away. There were moments when I was so afraid that I would be faced with the same predicament.

Just a few days before Christmas, I told myself that we should celebrate the occasion as best as we could. To create memories and to cherish those around us. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what the future had in store for us. 

So, we had our family gathered on Christmas Eve for online mass and dinner. We smiled and laughed, at the back of our minds, thankful that the 2021 Christmas was a happy one with our loved ones.

Life is truly a gift. It is never the money that makes it beautiful. It is with health and a peaceful heart and mind that you live exceptional lives.

Cheers to everyone and I hope that your Christmas was a good one.

Met Jenny for the first time at Moms on Christmas Day lunch.

She is such a darling. Bought a few of my books a couple of months ago, and wrote me a note that my books inspired her. How wonderful to know. These are words that keep me going.

-shobana-

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