The Tree and the Dove || The Palace of Love || CHAPTER - 3 : The Mango Tree

The sun was starting to calm down, its bright rays turning soft and cool, and the sky had turned a beautiful golden shade.

The tree looked down lovingly at the dove, who was sitting quietly on the ground below, pecking at the scattered seeds and filling her little belly after a long day.

Then, swaying ever so gently in the evening breeze, the tree spoke in his familiar, playful voice:

“Oh Dove, it’s that time again... Come now— fly up to your favorite branch, —and tell me what happened next.”

Sensing the sweet impatience in her beloved tree’s tone, the dove quickly finished her meal. With a little flutter, she flew up and settled onto that special branch she always chose — the one that curved just right, like a cradle made only for her.

She snuggled close, her feathers puffed and eyes warm with memories. She looked into the golden horizon, then smiled gently at her tree and began her story.

Dove:

“After talking to that sweet little friend Fuzzy, I closed my eyes on the mango tree’s branch. The breeze was gentle, the garden peaceful — and for a while, I truly rested. But around midday, I opened my eyes to the gentle sound of footsteps on the grass."

Her eyes were sparkling as she said this.

"It was them again — that beautiful pair, Shiv and Gora, walking hand in hand, laughter tucked between their glances. coming toward the very same mango tree.” 

then paused for a moment. After a gentle silence, she spoke again —

“…and that’s when I realized… neither of them were ordinary, nor was their love.”

---------------_x_x_x_---------------

The garden is calm — birds chirp in the distance, sunlight weaves through the leaves, and a soft breeze carries the scent of jasmine. Gora sits on a stone bench beneath the mango tree, a book in her lap, her hair shines in the light like golden threads. A few steps away, Shiv stands with his wooden easel and brush, watching her closely like a quiet, thoughtful artist.

Gora (smiling gently):

“You’ve been staring at me longer than you’ve been painting, Shiv. Are you studying the light or just making me shy?”

He looked at her once, and that glance held everything. Then he began to paint.

Shiv (chuckling):
“Maybe both. But mostly… I’m trying to paint the silence between your thoughts. That part of you that looks at the world with so much kindness — it’s the hardest to capture.”

Gora (tilting her head, amused):
“Oh? And what does that look like?”

Shiv (gently):
“Like peace that’s been through a storm. Your face holds more than beauty, Gora.”

Gora (lowering her eyes, touched):
“You always speak like you’re painting with words. But you know… I don’t always feel as calm as you paint me.”

Shiv (pausing his brush):
“I know. But that’s what makes it real. Real beauty isn’t in the stillness — it’s in the tremble beneath it. That’s what I try to show. Not just how you look… but how you feel.”

Gora:
“And how do I feel?”

Shiv:
“Like a prayer answered in silence.”

Gora (quietly, with wonder):
“How did you become this way, Shiv? So full of… understanding?”

Shiv (smiling softly):
“Maybe from you. You teach me something every day… even when you’re just sitting there.”

He steps back, looks at the canvas, then at her again, this time with a quiet reverence.

Shiv (whispering):
“Someday, if I ever lose my way to see the world… I’ll look at this painting and remember how you looked at the world — like it was worth loving, even when it wasn’t perfect.”

Gora (softly, after a pause):
“Then I’ll keep looking that way… so you never forget.”

_x_x_x_

"Oh Tree, the way she looked at him! She wasn’t posing like someone trying to look beautiful. She was simply being. Watching him paint her — not with vanity, but with awe. Her heart smiled through her eyes.

As Shiv carefully painted, his eyes wandered over Gora, capturing her every detail. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural glow, almost as if it reflected the very serenity of the garden itself. 

 (whispering in wonder) " Oh tree, how can someone’s skin shine like that? It’s as if the sunlight chose her alone to dance upon… like she carries a quiet glow from the inside out. 

And her eyes ... Her beautiful, dark eyes, deep and soulful, held a mixture of mystery and warmth, like a silent invitation to know her more.

And her lips were full and soft, slightly parted, with a calm expression that made her look peaceful and beautiful. A light scent of blueberries lingered on them, gentle and sweet. Every part of her seemed so perfect, yet so effortlessly natural, as if she were a living piece of art in the garden. 

"Oh tree! Each brush stroke was a whisper. Each color, a memory. And as he painted her, I could feel the unspoken bond between them deepen. It was like watching love breathe.

_x_x_x_

Shiv’s hand paused mid-stroke, the brush hovering in the air. For a moment, he looked up at the sky, as if something far away had gently tugged at his heart. His eyes slowly closed, a quiet stillness settling over him—like he was standing in the middle of an old, beautiful memory.

Then, in a voice filled with softness and wonder, he said,
“Do you remember our first meeting, Gora? ... the first time I touched you?"

Then slowly, he opened his eyes and looked into Gora’s — deep, steady, as if he were seeing all the way into her soul — and softly said…

"It felt like my fingers were tracing poetry into marble — like I was discovering something ancient and mine."

Gora (as her heartbeat quickens suddenly, her voice trembling):
"I do…"

Shiv (softly, voice full of memory):
"It was a tear that carried the feeling,
slipping from my heart to your chest —
and somehow, in that single drop,
you awakened…
as if you’d always been waiting for it."

Gora (whispers):

"Yes… the moment your tear touched my chest, it awakened both my body and soul. And in the very next breath, when you kissed me — it was as if time, the wind, and the whole universe just paused. Nothing moved… except our hearts."

Shiv (deeper now, with a quiet intensity):
"And in that little kiss, we were so lost in each other…
we didn’t even feel the sharp stones beneath us,
or the thorns brushing our skin.
We didn’t care for wounds.
We were just… us.
Two souls dissolving into one.
And nothing else… no one else… existed."

The warmth of their breaths began to melt into the garden air, wrapping the space between them in something invisible yet deeply felt. 

And high above, the dove’s feathers rustle in a hush of wonder. Her eyes shine as if the story is soaking into her bones.

Dove (thinking to herself):
"Was that… their first meeting?
Like the stars themselves reached down and stitched two hearts together?
This story…
I need to know it.
All of it."

---------------_x_x_x_---------------

The tree’s leaves tremble softly, stirred by a wind that seems to carry questions of its own. In a voice touched by a gentle shiver, he whispers to the dove:

“This… this love story doesn’t feel ordinary at all. What did he mean— that a single tear awakened her? Why does Gora’s skin shine like starlight? Who are these two? I need to know everything now… Tell me, dove, did you try to uncover their story? Did you find out? Please… don’t keep me waiting…”

The dove chuckles sweetly, fluffing her feathers as she looks down with affection.

“Oh, my love… be a little patient. I was just as restless to know their story as you are now. But trust me— the fruit of patience is sweet… and here, it’s nothing less than magical.”