Shaktipur, Rajasthan, 1960.

“Ahhh!!”
A piercing cry tore through the silence of the Thakur Haveli.

Outside, the skies roared with heavy rain, thunder shaking the earth with every strike. Was it a storm of grief… or a storm of blessing? No one could tell..
But inside the grand haveli, the loudest storm was not of clouds, but of a woman’s soul,the agonized cries of Shrimala-fighting, breaking, yet refusing to surrender, dealing with unbearable labour pain.
She was bringing into the world a life that nobody wanted. Nobody, except her.

Shrimala’s face glistened with sweat and tears, despite the cold, damp air of the storm. Her lips trembled as muffled groans escaped, her frail body trembling under the strain.

By her side stood Kaveri and Nayantara, clutching her hands as if willing their strength into her. Their eyes brimmed with helpless tears, watching their sister-like figure battle against a fate so cruel.

“Bas thoda aur, Thakurain… thoda aur himmat rakho,” Dai Ma urged gently, her hands steady, her focus unbroken.

Shrimala’s tears spilled, soaking into the pillow beneath her. The pain was relentless. Her pregnancy had been difficult, and her heart heavier still. For her husband, for her mother-in-law, this child was nothing but an omen of misfortune.

They had wished this life extinguished before it could even breathe. A girl child,something they despised, feared, and called her a curse.

Even under the echo of Shrimala's cry, Digvijay and her mother, Yamini sat unbothered. Unbothered even when a six year old boy, Dhananjay cried for his mother, they sat holding their ego and stone carved hearts.

But Shrimala had fought. For once in her silenced, suppressed life, she had refused to bow. For this child, she had found a voice.

With burning eyes, she had met her husband’s scorn and declared—this life will not be taken from me. Even if it meant staking her own.

And tonight, it seemed as though even the heavens stood with her.

As midnight struck on the sacred eve of Mahaashtami, a sudden stillness fell.
Shrimala’s screams stilled, the thunder hushed, and even the rain softened into silence. A breathless pause.

And then..

A fragile, piercing cry filled the room.
Raw. Tiny. Fragile. The sound that only a mother can recognize as the sweetest blessing.

Dai Ma lifted the newborn, her tiny body soaked in her mother's blood and the fragile yet most powerful connection still bound to her mother by the cord.

In that instant, under the baby’s radiance, lightning split the sky and thunder rolled once again,louder, grander,as though the heavens themselves had come alive to welcome her. Witness her arrival. And bless her.

Kaveri and Nayantara’s tears transformed into radiant smiles, their faces lighting up at the sight of the baby girl. They turned to Shrimala, clasping her hand tightly.

“Jiji…” Kaveri whispered, her voice breaking with happiness. “Durga Ashtami ke din… swayam Devi Mata aayi hai.”

A weak but radiant smile curved Shrimala’s lips. A girl. A daughter. Her daughter.

The world may never welcome her, but in Shrimala’s heart bloomed a joy purer than life itself. Tears of happiness welled in her eyes as she gathered the strength to speak, her voice trembling with devotion.

“Mata Rani ka aashirwad hai meri bacchi…” she whispered. Her hand reached shakily, desperate to touch the fragile life she had fought so fiercely for. “Aaj se iska naam Durga hoga.”

DURGA..

The mother of the universe. She was named after her even after being an unwanted child.

Separated from the only hand that could love her, her mother.. the next day she was born.
What next turn her life took?
Where she was sent?
In what conditions she grew up?
What plans fate holds for her?
Will this world supress her or she will turn into power?

To know..
Dive into this story of DURGA.
Where fate's plan are strong than her Will..

Only with Gauri..

How was the Prologue everyone?
I guess we all know it's an exact scene from Season 1.
But that was the base and the beginning of Durga..

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Tell me are you exited for her story..😍

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