A woman can be goddess KAALI and can be a goddess DURGA too

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It's a humblerequest from my side

Your support turely motivates me....

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The glittering facade of the night had finally cracked. The vibrant symphony of the reception-the rhythmic beats of the music, the polite laughter, and the shimmering gold of the decor-had been violently choked out. In its place stood a heavy, suffocating silence, thick with the scent of copper blood and raw, jagged pain The air in the grand hall didn't just turn cold-it turned lethal.

The crowd of outsiders had been cleared, leaving only the family and a few inner-circle guests who stood like ghosts in the periphery. The "celebration" was dead. The "shor sharaba" had morphed into a haunting atmosphere of seething fury and gut-wrenching sympathy.

​Vansh stood at the center of the wreckage, his silhouette dark and imposing. His eyes didn't just reflect anger; they reflected a promised massacre. Below him, the pristine marble was being defiled by the blood of the man Riddhima had dragged down-a visual reminder that the Singhaniya honor had been attacked, and the retribution would be biblical.

But Vansh's hands were still trembling as he held Shaili's fragile, broken form, but his eyes were fixed on the bloody wreck Riddhima had dragged to his feet. Every ragged breath the man took felt like an insult to the bloodline he had dared to touch. Vansh didn't see a human being on the floor; he saw a parasite that needed to be erased from existence."

And Riddhima stood like a statue of vengeance, the deep crimson of her saree blending with the fresh blood on her knuckles. She didn't look at the shocked faces of the family or the tears of the women; her gaze was a steady, burning flame directed at the man groveling at her feet. He groveled at her feet, a pathetic shadow of the predator he had been moments ago.

He pressed his forehead against Riddhima's skin, his mangled, bleeding tongue flicking out in a desperate, silent plea for a mercy that no longer existed. The thick, metallic blood from his mouth smeared across her feet, staining her skin as he wept in guttural, wordless groans.

​But Riddhima was made of stone and fire.

​She didn't flinch. She didn't recoil in disgust, nor did she look down at the trembling wretch who was bathing her feet in his own blood. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon of her own rage, cold and unyielding. It was as if she wanted him there-broken, humiliated, and reduced to a dog begging for its life. To her, he wasn't a man anymore; he was a stain on the floor that needed to be scrubbed away.

The family watched in paralyzed horror, the air thick with the scent of his terror. Riddhima stood tall, her silhouette illuminated by the chandeliers that had so recently witnessed laughter, now witnessing a judgment.

​Then, she opened her mouth, and the sound that came out wasn't a woman's voice-it was the roar of a lioness protecting her pride.

​"MADHAV!"

​The name ripped through the hall like a lightning strike, echoing off the high ceilings and vibrating in the chests of everyone present

Shaili was there, but she wasn't. The world had become a muffled blur of red sarees and white marble, the screams in the hall sounding like they were coming from underwater. She could feel the heavy wool of Aditya's coat against her skin, but it couldn't stop the shivering that started in her soul. She was safe in her brother's arms, yet her mind was still trapped in that room, listening to the sound of her own dignity shattering alongside the glass."

Realizing that Riddhima was a wall of cold, unyielding fire, the monster turned his desperate, blood-slicked eyes toward Shaili. In a final, pathetic attempt to save his own skin, he began to crawl toward her, his mangled mouth emitting wet, gurgling sounds of plea as he reached out a trembling hand for her feet.

​The moment his shadow touched her, the fragile string holding Shaili together snapped.

​Panic, Raw and Electric, surged through her. Her breath hitched into ragged,

shallow gasps as her entire body began to vibrate with a violent tremor. To her, he wasn't a broken man; he was the demon from the room, still reaching, still hunting.

​"No... no... stay away!" her mind screamed, though no sound left her throat.

​With a choked whimper, she lunged into Vansh's chest, her fingers digging into his suit like talons.

She buried her face against his heart, seeking refuge in the only sanctuary she knew, trying to disappear into his scent to drown out the reek of alcohol and blood.

​Vansh felt the frantic, bird-like thrumming of her heart against his own ribs, and the last shred of his restraint evaporated. As Shaili's breathing turned into a terrifying, heavy wheeze of a panic attack, Vansh's arms tightened around her-not just in a hug, but as a shield against the world.

​The air in the room didn't just turn cold; it turned vacuum-sealed. Every Singhaniya man in that room looked at the groveling wretch just to kill him.

When Vansh felt the frantic, terror-stricken tremors wracking Shaili's body, the last thread of his sanity snapped. A low, guttural snarl erupted from his throat-a sound of pure, unadulterated carnage.

​He didn't just step forward; he became the embodiment of death itself.

​As the wretch dared to crawl closer to Shaili, Vansh's boot came down with the force of a falling mountain. He crushed the man's face into the marble floor, his heel grinding into his jaw until the sickening sound of splintering bone echoed through the silent hall.

He wanted to erase the very features that had dared to look at his sister with lust.

​"You filth," Vansh hissed, his voice vibrating with a cold With a surge of primal strength, Vansh delivered a vicious, bone-breaking kick to the man's ribs, sending his broken body sliding across the floor like a piece of discarded trash.

The man tumbled and skidded back through his own trail of blood, stopping right at Riddhima's feet-the very place where his nightmare had begun.

​Vansh stood tall, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with a fire that promised a slow and agonizing end. He had reclaimed his sister's space, but the monster was now back in the hands of the woman who had already tasted his blood.

Riddhima looked down at him, her expression not of disgust, but of chilling, predatory satisfaction. She didn't move. She stood over him like an ancient goddess of war, her red saree fluttering slightly as the wind from the open doors swept through the silent hall.

Madhav's hands trembled as he handed the heavy metal can to Riddhima; his hesitation was clear, a silent plea for her to stop, but he knew better than to cross a lioness in mid-hunt.

​Riddhima grabbed the man by his hair, forcing his broken body upright one last time. With a cold, mechanical motion,

The man was barely conscious, his breath coming in wet, bubbling rattles. He looked up through the curtain of blood masking his eyes, seeing the twin pillars of his destruction ~ Vansh, standing like a dark tower of protective rage behind Shaili, and Riddhima, the silent executioner looming over him.

she tipped the can. The liquid glugged out, drenching him from head to toe. The pungent, sharp scent of fuel hit everyone instantly. A collective gasp echoed through the hall as the realization dawned on them-this wasn't just a punishment; it's the message that Mercy had left the building the moment he touched A woman's dignity.

​The man's eyes widened, his tears mixing with the kerosene. He collapsed at her feet, his entire body shaking in a convulsion of pure, primal terror.

They say the walls of the hall had ears but tonight, they had eyes-and they were witnessing a massacre of the soul. The man on the floor was no longer the predator who had cornered a 'bird'; he was the prey, broken and silenced by a woman who had found her inner demon

Riddhima didn't ask. She reached into Madhav's pocket and snatched his lighter, knowing he wouldn't hand it over willingly. Flick. The small flame danced in the dim light, reflecting in the monster's terrified pupils.

​"Riddhima, stop! What are you doing?"Riddhima turn off the lighter Riddhima Rajeshwari screamed from the back, her voice laced with horror.

​"Madam, please... this isn't the way. It will only make things worse!" Madhav pleaded, his voice cracking.

​"Riddhima, trust us, we can handle this legally!" Arjun shouted, trying to step forward, his words joined by Kartik's desperate urgings. But Ashish and Vansh remained deathly silent, their eyes locked on Riddhima, watching the fire of justice burn in her soul.

The room was a chaos of overlapping voices-pleas, shouts, and warnings. But Riddhima heard none of them. She slowly turned her head, her gaze landing on Shaili, who was still huddled in Vansh's arms, a broken shell of the girl she used to be.

​That one look was enough.

​Without a word, without a flicker of doubt, Riddhima turned back and tossed the burning lighter.

The kerosene ignited with a hungry whoosh, and in a heartbeat, the man was engulfed in a pillar of orange and blue flame. The screams that followed were guttural and short-lived, drowned out by the roar of the fire.

​Then, total, absolute pin-drop silence descended upon the hall. The "special guests," the family, the guards-everyone stood paralyzed.

As the monster's agonizing screams filled the hall, Riddhima didn't flinch. She simply turned away from the inferno and took two calm, deliberate steps back toward a velvet chair.

She sat down with a grace that was chilling, crossing one leg over the other. Her long, crimson pallu spilled over the side, sweeping the blood-stained marble floor like the train of a queen's robe

The flickering orange light danced across Riddhima's face, casting long, demonic shadows against the marble walls. She didn't look away. She watched the fire consume the filth that had dared to touch a woman her expression as cold as the winter night

Her face, which had been a mask of fury just moments ago, was now eerily calm and peaceful. A faint, ghost of a smile touched her lips as she watched the flames dance. In her mind, this wasn't murder; it was a cleansing. He had dared to touch a soul, and in return, he was losing his body.

​The rest of the family stood in a state of catatonic shock. Rajeshwari's hand was over her mouth, Mamta was trembling, and the "special guests" looked as though they had just seen the devil himself.

​But in that circle of horror, there was one exception.

​Vansh.

The reception was a kaleidoscope of gold, laughter, and deafening music. Everyone was drowning in the shallow celebration, blinded by the glitter of the chandeliers. No one noticed the silence. No one noticed the empty seat. No one noticed that Shaili-my baby sister, the heartbeat of this family-was missing.

​Then, a sound pierced through the music. It wasn't a scream; it was a ghost of a voice, a pained whimper of bhai that sliced through my soul like a jagged blade.

​I turned. And in that heartbeat, the world didn't just stop-it vanished.

​The ground beneath my expensive shoes crumbled into an abyss. There stood Shaili.

Her clothes-the beautiful dress she had picked out with such joy-were shredded ruins. The dark bruises on her forehead and the tear-streaked dirt on her face were a map of a nightmare I hadn't been there to stop. Seeing her like that it didn't just hurt. It shattered the man I thought I was.

​"Shaili!"

​The word was a choked sob. I lunged toward her, my arms folding around her with a desperation that bordered on madness. I held her as if I could press her back into the safety of my own skin. But she was... lifeless.

​In my arms, she was no longer the girl who made the house light up with a single smile. The sparkle in her eyes had been extinguished, replaced by a hollow, terrifying void. She was a porcelain doll that had been crushed by a monster's boot.

​Aditya moved in a blur, stripping off his coat to shield her broken dignity from the prying eyes of the crowd. Suddenly, the family was there-dadi, Ashish uncle Rajeshwari aunty, arjun uncle, saumya aunty, dadu a wall of noise and frantic questions.

"What happened?" "Where were you?" "Who did this?"

​Their voices were like static in my ears. My body began to tremble-not with rage, not yet-but with a vicious, paralyzing helplessness.

I, Vansh Rai Singhaniya, a man who controlled empires and moved mountains, felt like a child lost in the dark. I had failed. The one job I had-the only one that mattered-was to protect her from the cruelty of this world. And I had let her walk right into the claws of a beast.

​The gravity of the situation hit me like a physical blow to the chest, stealing my breath. I couldn't even find the voice to ask who had done it. The questions died in my throat because I was too broken to hear the answers.

​I had failed her. And that thought didn't just cut it began to bleed me dry. I stood there, holding her shattered form while my own heart turned into ash, realizing that I was no longer a protector. I was just a brother who had arrived too late.

A murderous heat began to rise in my veins, replacing the cold numbness of failure. I wanted to tear the world apart. I wanted to hunt down the animal who had done this and make his death a gruesome lesson for any man who dared to cast an evil eye on a girl. My jaw was set so tight it felt like it would shatter.

​"Who?" I whispered into Shaili's hair, my voice a jagged promise of death. "Tell me who he is, baby."

​But before she could speak, a new sound cut through the chaos-the rhythmic, wet thud-thud-thud of something heavy being dragged down the marble stairs.

​I turned my head, and my breath hitched. "Riddhima?"

There she was. Pranpriye But she wasn't the woman I had known for seven years. She looked like a living pyre a goddess of war emerged from a massacre. Her saree was a frantic red, and her eyes were twin flames of pure, unbridled destruction. In her hand, she fisted the hair of a man, dragging his broken body down the steps like a hunter with a carcass.

​The sight was stomach-churning. The man's face was a map of gore; blood gushed from his scalp, and his tongue-shredded and cut-leaked a crimson trail that stained our pristine white marble stairs. He was no longer a man; he was a heap of meat. I had never seen this side of Riddhima. She was a wildfire that no one could cage, a force that would turn anyone who touched her to ash.

The wretch collapsed at her feet, his body convulsing as he tried to beg for a mercy she clearly didn't possess. She didn't even look at him. She looked through him, as if he were already dead.

​In that moment, I didn't need to ask. The way she treated him told me everything. He was the beast.

​Seeing that Riddhima was a wall of ice, the man turned his desperate, blood-slicked eyes toward Shaili.

He began to crawl toward us, his mangled mouth emitting wet, gurgling pleas. The moment his shadow touched shaili's feet, Shaili's grip on me turned into a death-clutch. She lunged into my chest, her entire body vibrating with a terror so violent it shook my very soul. She held me like I was the only anchor in a world that had gone adrift.

​My restraint snapped As he reached out, I brought my boot down with the force of a mountain, crushing his face into the marble. I wanted him to feel the weight of every tear every pain my baby had shed. With a vicious, bone-breaking kick, I sent him sliding back across the floor, right back to Riddhima's feet.

​"Die like a dog," I hissed.

​I wanted to finish it myself. I wanted to feel his life leave him. But Shaili wouldn't let go. She was drowning in fear, and she needed her brother to be her lighthouse. I knew, in my heart, that there was no executioner in this world better than Riddhima this time

Then Madhav appeared, his face pale as he handed over a metal can. The air instantly filled with the sharp, biting scent of kerosene. My heart hammered against my ribs as Riddhima drenched the man, the liquid glugging over his wounds.

​Everyone screamed. My family, the guests-they all rushed forward to stop the madness. "Riddhima, no!" "Think about the law!"

​But I didn't move. I stood my ground, holding Shaili tight, my eyes locked on the woman who was about to burn the world down for I wanted to see exactly what Riddhima was capable of.

​She reached into Madhav's pocket and snatched the lighter. She didn't look at the crowd. She didn't look at me. She looked at Shaili-at the broken girl who deserved justice

With a flick of her thumb, the flame came to life. And then, with a chilling, poetic finality, Riddhima tossed the lighter over her shoulder without even turning back to watch the carnage.

​The whoosh of the fire ignited the air. The screams were the end of the story.

And as Riddhima took two steps back and sat on that chair, crossing her legs with a face full of divine peace, a dark, proud smile finally touched my lips.

​For the first time in these years and this time she is unexcepted to me as always

And ​A haunting serenity settled over her features, a look of absolute sukoon that sent chills down the spines of everyone watching. There was no guilt in her eyes, no flickering of regret-only the cold, quiet satisfaction of a woman who had done exactly what she set out to do. And no one can stop her that's why she is one & only ~ Riddhima Raichand

" Who says fire is loud they have not seen a woman this calm"

The air was still thick with the smell of kerosene and the fading crackle of the fire, but the silence that followed was even more violent.

​Shaili, unable to process the sight of the monster's fiery end, had finally surrendered to the darkness. She hung limp in my arms, her head lolling back, her face a ghostly pale against the dark fabric of my suit. Every instinct in my body screamed to run-to get her to a hospital, to wrap her in cotton wool and hide her from the world forever.

​But then, the heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots echoed on the marble.

​"Miss Riddhima Raichand?" the inspector's voice cut through the haze like a blade.

​Riddhima didn't argue. She didn't look at the family, and she didn't look at the charred remains on the floor. She stood up from the chair with the same regal grace she was sitting Her long pallu trailed behind her as she walked toward the officers. Without a single word, she held out her hands-the same hands that were still stained with the man's blood.

​Clink.

​The sound of the handcuffs locking around her slender wrists felt like a bullet to my heart. And it feels like It was a sight I never wanted to see the woman who had just saved my sister's dignity being led away like a common criminal.

​I looked at Shaili, unconscious and broken in my arms. Then I looked at Riddhima, being led toward the police van, her back straight and and her head held high.

​My heart was being pulled in two opposite directions. If I stayed with Shaili, I was letting Riddhima walk into a cage.

If I ran after Riddhima, Iwas abandoning the sister I had already failed once tonight.

I had never been confused like this in his life

Because this time Shaili & Riddhima both needed me and "Which way should I go?"

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