Chapter 75 Price of Mischief

"Since you delight in sowing confusion and vanishing at crucial moments, I curse you!"

Indra's voice thundered across the vast celestial expanse of Vaikuntha.

He turned to Narada, his divine eyes blazing with fury.

"Narada!" His command rang out like a Vajra from the skies. "Whenever you weave words to ensnare others in illusion, your voice shall fade into silence! The world shall not hear your mischief—your voice shall be shrouded!"

BOOM! BOOM!

Narada Muni's face turned ashen. His mouth opened in shock, but no words escaped. The gazes of the Trimurti, the Devis, the Devas, and the Rishis flickered between the severe countenance of Indra and the horrified expression of Narada.

Garuda, trembling, hastily retreated, his massive wings folded tightly against his body. He tucked himself behind one of the great pillars at the far edge of Vaikuntha, his eyes wide with both fear and relief. Memories of Indra's fury from ages past flashed through his mind, making him silently thank his stars for not being caught in the storm this time.

Nearby, other divine mounts huddled together, their heads tilted upward in awe and trepidation.

The air crackled with the raw energy of Indra's penance. An invisible force, ancient and unyielding, wove itself into a curse, threading through the disputes between Indra and Narada. Like an unstoppable tide, it surged toward Narada Muni, enveloping him.

The curse was complete.

With a heavy thud, Narada's veena slipped from his grasp and struck the ground. Desperation filled his eyes as he tried to speak.

"Listen to my explanation!" he began frantically. "I—"

But the moment the first word left his lips, his voice vanished. Silence enveloped him, his mouth moving in vain, as though performing a mute pantomime.

The Devas and Rishis exchanged bewildered glances, their faces a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

"Narada Muni must be deceiving us again," Rishi Bhrigu said, his tone heavy with disapproval.

"Indeed," muttered Rishi Angiras. "What other reason could there be for his voice to suddenly fail?"

Rishi Atri stepped forward, his expression stern. He slammed his wooden staff against the ground, the sound reverberating like a judge's gavel.

"It is clear to me," Atri declared, his voice filled with disdain, "that Narada has once again tried to slither out of harm's way with his words."

Around him, the other Rishis nodded in agreement, their faces etched with disdain as their gazes bore into the now-mute Narada Muni.

Narada's silence stood as a testament to the power of Indra's wrath—a curse that had not only silenced his voice but also his schemes, leaving the once-vocal sage isolated and humbled.

"Rishi Atri is right! Narada has gone too far! Even now, he tries to weave his lies before the Lord!"

The voices of the Rishis echoed in disdain, their murmurs growing louder and more condemning. The air was thick with judgment as all eyes fell on Narada Muni.

Narada: "!!!"

His wide eyes darted left and right, scanning the gathering with increasing panic. It took him a moment to realize the truth—his voice had not been heard at all.

Not good!

The weight of Indra's curse came crashing down on him. His attempts at defense, his carefully crafted words, had been interpreted as silence, leaving the crowd to assume the worst.

My reputation... ruined! Completely ruined!

Narada's thoughts raced. His chest tightened as he replayed Indra's curse in his mind. A horrifying realization dawned:

I can only talk to myself? No one else can hear me?

No!

With newfound urgency, Narada clutched his veena and dashed forward. For all his portly build, he moved with surprising agility. His frantic footsteps carried him straight to Vishnu, his last hope.

"Narayana! Save me!"

Narada fell to his knees, hands clasped in fervent prayer, his eyes brimming with desperation.

Vishnu's smile was warm and radiant, exuding a calmness that seemed to reach into Narada's very soul. Like a sunflower turning toward the sun, Narada's panic momentarily eased under Vishnu's serene gaze.

"Narada," Vishnu said gently, his tone as soothing as a spring breeze. "Even the Trimurti are not exempt from curses. Perhaps you should speak to Indra directly."

His words were delivered with a calm finality, but there was a glimmer of knowing in his eyes, one that almost teased Narada's predicament.

Narada blinked in disbelief. "Lord, please! I promise—I'll never—"

But before he could finish his plea, his voice vanished again. The silence was deafening. Narada's mouth moved desperately, but not a single sound emerged.

"Even before the Preserver Himself, he dares to behave so brazenly!" Rishi Bhrigu shakes his head.

Rishi Vasistha stepped forward, his ancient eyes glowing with wisdom. "Changing a person's nature is no simple task. It is the most difficult thing in the world. One can bend the body, manipulate the mind, even alter fate itself, but the essence of one's nature remains steadfast."

Narada flailed, gesturing wildly, his expression pleading. But his antics only seemed to deepen the misunderstanding.

Vishnu, unperturbed, continued to smile, a faint trace of amusement tugging at his lips. He had seen countless cosmic dramas unfold, and Narada's predicament was merely another twist in the eternal dance of fate.

Perhaps, in time, Narada would come to understand that true communication didn't always require words. For now, though, Muni's plight served as a lesson to all—and a reminder of the delicate balance between divine will and mortal pride.

Vishnu's smile grew warmer, his expression radiating patience and amusement. With a gentle blink, he said, "Narada, I can't hear you. Perhaps you should ask Indra."

"!!!"

Narada Muni froze, his body going stiff as a board. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head toward Indra. Their eyes met.

For a moment, Narada stood there, silent and defeated. His shoulders sagged as he lowered his gaze, a bitter expression crossing his face. He had no choice but to acknowledge it—this time, he had been utterly bested. The one he had always belittled, the King of Svarga, now held all the power.

The thought of never being able to speak freely again, of having his voice unheard by all, struck Narada harder than any physical blow. To him, it was a fate worse than death.

He glanced nervously at the gathered Rishis, hoping for some semblance of support. Instead, he was met with disapproving glares, their faces painted with displeasure, even anger.

Narada shuddered. He knew the temperaments of these revered sages all too well. If he walked away now, there was a very real chance that one of them might curse him again for his perceived disrespect towards ignoring Lord Vishnu's advice.

Narayana, he thought with resignation. The path you've shown me... apologizing to Indra... perhaps it truly is the only way out of this mess.

Taking a deep breath, Narada slowly bowed his head. His pride, though battered, had to be set aside.

He clasped his hands together in a gesture of supplication, his voice soft yet laden with sincerity. "Please forgive me, King of Svarga. Allow me to play a song on my veena to express my repentance. I beg for your mercy."

Narada bent slightly forward, his humility on full display. The words were unlike anything anyone had ever heard from the mischievous sage, making the scene all the more striking.

Indra regarded him in silence, his expression unreadable. The mighty King of Svarga circled Narada slowly, his presence commanding.

For a moment, Narada feared he might reject his plea outright. Then, Indra spoke, his voice steady and laced with authority.

"There's no need to sing," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "It is enough that you recognize your error. To know one's mistakes and strive to correct them is a virtue. But…"

Indra's gaze narrowed slightly, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "The question remains: are you truly sincere?"

Narada swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Indra's scrutiny. He knew this was not just a test of his words but of his very soul.

Snap!

Indra stepped forward, his hand landing firmly yet playfully on Narada Muni's shoulder.

"Narada Muni!" he exclaimed with a grin. "Lord Vishnu invited us. It is such a joyous occasion. Come on now, smile! It feels strange not seeing that mischievous grin of yours."

Indra's tone carried a teasing lilt, and his expression betrayed the effort it took to keep from bursting into laughter.

Narada Muni, however, looked utterly crestfallen, his usual energy dimmed to a mere shadow of itself.

Indra studied his face for a moment before finally giving in. "Hahaha!" A hearty laugh escaped him, shaking his shoulders as he struggled to compose himself.

Narada Muni's lips twitched, his expression a blend of resignation and amusement. An awkward, almost reluctant smile formed on his face as if he were caught between annoyance and acceptance.

Shouldn't I have just kept quiet from the start? He mused silently, his thoughts filled with regret.

Across the room, Brahma watched the exchange with a faint smirk. His gaze flitted between Indra and Narada before his lips curled slightly upward.

"Indra truly is clever," Brahma remarked, his tone laced with admiration. "To think he could resolve such a tricky matter between the two devi with such ease."

Standing beside him, Goddess Sarasvati smiled softly, her serene expression radiating warmth. She glanced at Brahma, her eyes sparkling with quiet mischief.

"Nath," she said in her gentle voice, "I, too, have a question."

Brahma blinked, startled, turning toward her with an expression that teetered between curiosity and concern.

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