Bound by Vows: Seven Lifetimes of Love

Chapter 1: When Gods Lost Faith

In the hush beyond time, above the noise of the mortal world, the heavens were silent.

Not because peace had returned. But because sorrow had.

The divine council, once filled with celestial music and laughter, now echoed with unease. Seated upon their jeweled thrones in the Sabha of Eternity, gods who shaped the universe with a glance now gathered with grim faces.

Lord Shiva, the great ascetic, sat cross-legged in calm intensity, his third eye closed, but his aura storming with unspoken emotion. Parvati, the mother of compassion and strength, stood beside him, her eyes deep pools of worry. Seated at the heart of the sabha were Brahma, the Creator, with his serene wisdom; Vishnu, the Preserver, whose calm gaze now reflected conflict; and Goddess Lakshmi, whose radiance dimmed ever so slightly as if echoing the decline of love in the world below.

Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom, placed her veena gently aside. Her voice broke the silence, soft but clear.

"Knowledge has grown. Wealth has spread. Yet the soul of love… has withered."

At her words, the divine sabha stirred.

Narad Muni, ever the messenger between realms, floated forward, his tanpura resting on his shoulder. For once, he didn't sing.

"I've seen it all, wandering among the mortals," he said solemnly. "Today's generation is… quick to love, and quicker to leave."

Parvati's brows furrowed. "They begin young — dating at fifteen, calling it love before even understanding what giving truly means."

"They fall apart by twenty," added Ganesh with a thoughtful tone. "A breakup over a message, a love forgotten in a swipe."

Kartikeya spoke next, his warrior's voice steady. "Marriage is no longer sacred. It's become a formality, or worse, a contract. They marry early, divorce earlier. Some don't even believe in marriage anymore."

"Engaged, disengaged, remarried… the cycle spins like a wheel with no soul," said Chandra, the moon god, his voice tinged with quiet sorrow.

Surya, radiant and stern, boomed, "Love has become convenience. Lust wears the mask of affection. Sacrifice has no value. Commitment is rare."

Brahma raised one of his four hands and sighed. "They speak of 'soulmates' and 'forever'… but how many truly understand the vows? The sacred promises?"

Vishnu's voice cut through the air like gentle thunder.

"They have forgotten what Radha and Krishna taught — that love is divine longing, beyond body, beyond union. They've forgotten what Shiva and Parvati endured — tests of time, separation, sacrifice… and still stood together."

Lakshmi nodded. "No longer do they look to our stories for guidance. Instead, love is rushed. Disposable."

"Even the concept of dharma in love is mocked," Indra muttered, drumming his golden staff against the marble floor. "They follow impulse, not duty. Desire, not devotion."

A long silence followed.

Then Shiva opened his eyes.

"So… shall we let it be? Let love die?"

"No." Parvati's voice was firm. "If we do nothing, the very foundation of connection — of families, of humanity — will rot."

"There must be a way to remind them," whispered Saraswati. "To teach again what love truly is."

Vishnu's hand rose slowly. "Perhaps the answer is not to preach… but to show. Let love itself walk among them. Let it suffer, struggle, rise, and endure."

Narad tilted his head. "You mean… send two souls? To live among mortals? To learn, and teach?"

Brahma's eyes closed in thought. "Seven vows. Seven lifetimes. Each vow tested in an era where it's most forgotten."

"A soul-bond," said Lakshmi softly. "Tied by the red string of fate. A connection so deep it travels through births, beyond memory… yet pulls them together, again and again."

Shiva turned to Vishnu. "If we choose, we must choose wisely."

"They must represent the world itself," said Saraswati. "One from light. One from shadow. One born in softness, one in fire."

Kartikeya crossed his arms. "One must know pain. One must know power. Only then can they understand all faces of love."

Ganesh added, "But we must not interfere once the journey begins. Let karma play its part."

"Even gods must step back from destiny," Parvati agreed. "Once the red string is tied, it is beyond divine touch."

"Then," Vishnu said solemnly, "let us choose."

From a sacred pool in the center of the sabha, a silver mist began to rise. Inside it, two lights shimmered — two souls suspended in the cosmic balance. One glowed with storm and silence. The other flickered with warmth and quiet sorrow.

"Why these two?" asked Indra.

"Because they are both broken," answered Narad. "And only the broken truly seek to be whole."

Chandra added, "Because they have both been lovers… and destroyers."

"Because they have both turned away from love… and longed for it when it was gone," said Lakshmi gently.

The gods watched in silence as the red thread formed in the air — fine as moonlight, strong as truth — and wound itself around the two souls.

"Let them forget who they are," Vishnu declared."Let them live. Let them fail. Let them rise.""Let them meet again and again," said Saraswati."Let each lifetime test a vow," Brahma intoned."And in the end, may they awaken," Shiva whispered.

The thread pulsed.

The heavens darkened.

And the two souls — now unaware of the divine council, of their purpose, of their bond — were reborn.

In a distant village, a baby girl took her first breath. Her cry was soft, but her soul… ancient.

In a marble palace miles away, a boy was born under rare stars. His eyes opened with a coldness far beyond his age.

They would not meet for years. But fate was already moving.

And in the heavens, the gods watched.

Silently.

Hoping.

Waiting.

Praying that these two souls, across lifetimes, would rediscover the sacred vows — the forgotten truths — of love.

For if they failed… the world would forget love forever.