Jai Bhavani!
The ladies echoed in unison. Their voices reflected the true essence of women's power. Sacrifice. Bravery. Honour. Just like the Goddess herself. Only, these women carried their weapons in their hearts. It was love for their motherland. And honour for their soul. The echo increased. So did the burning of the wood, in the Kund. Thousands gathered before it. Hands folded. Nervous heartbeats. Scared smiles. But eyes full of confidence. Every Rajputani was born for this day. A few like them had the opportunity. In the crowd, a young, scared princess, perhaps of five or six, whispered, Are we going to die, Maasa? Her mother pressed her hand.
We are going to survive. She reassured.
How? Asked the daughter in dismay. The room echoed with screams and smell. Smell of burning flesh. Her mother pressed her hands again.
In the soil of our motherland. Our ashes will perish in every corner of our land. And we will survive in her. She let go of her daughter and moved forward.
Jai Bhavani.
It was time.
The princess was always scared of fire. But today, as she saw her mother, stepmother, aunts, siblings, and sisters smile and make their way, she didn't shudder. She was now on the first line, just before the fire gods calling out to her. Her eyes blurred. Her heart raced. But her feet didn't stop.
Jai Bhavani.
She heard her own voice one last time, before she felt the heat rise up and engulf her body. She had plunged into being eternal and immortal. The ashes turned the sky grey. Each particle of ash made its way slowly to settle on the soil of the motherland and mix with its sand. She was now one and the same with her. Forever. Timeless souls needed no names to survive in history.