THE ARRIVAL OF TIME
It was a sunny morning, and Shiva was feeling good. He readied Nandi for a ride to Daksha’s palace. Nandi himself was in a hurry and charged in true bull fashion to their collective destiny. Together, they made a momentous sight: the Rider and the Ride. Raising merry dust with their hooves, every moment relegated to the past. It was like the perfect symbolism of the ride of time itself, as they rushed forward to embrace the future.
And soon, they reached the outskirts of Daksha’s kingdom. Nandi’s furious run was still heavy with the vigour of purpose, still robust with the virility of expectation. Women plowing their rice fields looked up to see this unstoppable creature heralding his master just past their midst. They were here one moment, and off the fields in the next. But the impression would be a life-lasting one; the farmer women knew it was not just a rider that was being heralded, but a whole new time itself had arrived.
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