Novels2Search

The Glitch

Chapter 1: The Glitch

Some people in life are the gifts of God, while others seem just like God themselves. Doesn't by reading this thought strike a chord in your heart? I know it does... because I know you're reading this, and this is for you only.

I came into this world before the first rays of the sun kissed the earth, as if my destiny was intertwined with the moon. Perhaps the moon itself was my soulmate, present to witness my birth. But no... my moon wasn't a celestial body; my moon was Krishna. Like the moon, he was eternal—existing long before my arrival and destined to shine long after my departure.

As a child, I was always silent—calm on the outside, a storm brewing within. My inner chaos was a labyrinth, and I often wondered who, if anyone, could navigate its twists and turns. Who could understand the dissonance within me? Then I found my answer..... its him...its Krishna. He didn't just tolerate my true self; he embraced it. He was the only one who didn't just know my laughter but understood the sour taste of my tears.

When the world slept and I sat awake in the midnight darkness, drowning in the solitude of my thoughts, he was there. Perhaps he was invisible to others, but I could feel his presence as if he were right beside me. His love was a touch without form, a whisper without sound. There were moments—unmistakable, magical moments—when I felt his direct intervention in my life. I called these moments "glitches" in his divine dimension. He didn't like taking credit for his love; he always try it to cover up in the name of so called layers of illusions, leaving me to uncover the truth.

So loving him is a very different process for his all devotees.... sorry I must say lovers....but it's ok to say his lover devotees also because loving someone by worshiping is also a form of love....He take care all his beloved ones and even wrote a unique story for every individual ,,,,,,,Isn't it fascinating?.... The effort he puts in for every individual, all while trying not to be noticed. But here's a little secret: Krishna does like to be noticed.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

To me, he is like a small child—innocent, playful, and brimming with excitement—waiting for his lovers to find him in his blue world and embrace him tightly. When someone reaches the door of his divine realm, he blushes from behind the door, eagerly waiting for them to unlock it with the right key. And sometimes, just sometimes, he leaves a cheat code for his beloved ones. A way to connect with him during their journey to find the right key. This cheat code is art—the bridge between his world and ours. Art can manifest in many forms: singing, writing, dancing, acting, cooking, painting, or even something entirely unique. For me, it was painting.

At first, painting was just a hobby. But over time, it became something personal—something that belonged to him. Through painting, I began to understand Krishna in ways I never imagined. I realized that he gave love the highest priority among all emotions, just after our basic needs. As an artist, whenever I create something, I leave my signature on it. Krishna did the same..... He gave his signature to every organism, and that signature was love. It was his way of marking us as his own.

Sometimes I wonder about the love he must carry within himself. An infinite reservoir of affection, and yet, he still yearns for it. Isn't it similar to how we're told to love ourselves, yet we still crave the love and care of others?....I know.... He is the creator of the universe, he is beyond everything, and yet, he is a part of us....he is just like us.

I'm sorry for this long lecture about love, but I wanted to start this story with him... because he is the reason I'm writing it. I wanted to write this to understand you my own pov of the story in a better way. And you... you are an important part of it.

Do you know, I still remember the first day I saw you? "Excuse me!" That's all you said.

I turned around, startled, near the temple stairs. There you were, with shining messy hair, one broken dimple and a small black mole on your cheek.

"Do you know the painter of this art? ,,,Actually, I saw colors on your bag, so I thought maybe you know the artist," you asked with emotions of mix confusion and strange calm charm, with eyes that seemed to shine like sparkle.

"Umm... maybe,...yes," I stammered, my heart racing. I was the artist that you were searching, but your sudden question left me utterly blank.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter