Indian Foot Worship Novels & Stories

Author's pov Many years ago A girl is worshipping goddess Durga a Hindu goddess and singing a Religious song. Everyone there is listening to her voice with keen interest. All the servants of Singhal mansion are rooted in their place. The family members are there as well. Once she was done she turned around and distributed the sweets among everyone.

she added. "Oh my Goddess!" I feigned a gasp. "That was actually useful. Here, have a Fortune Cookie." I metaphysically tossed her the sugary treat. "For millennia, worshipers have raised temples in my honor, named their firstborn after me, dedicated their lives and sacrificed incense, gold, animals and even slaves to gain my favor, yet this is the first time someone has actually given me something I asked for," Ishara mused lyrically. "Does this mean we are closer to having sex?" I poked.

I was safely escorted into a palanquin that carried me to Nati's temple where the wedding rites would begin. Nati's temple was way bigger than Natalís probably because he was the sovereign deity of Nayak. People seek children and good health from Natalí while they seek protection, strength, and power from Nati. The god was also the husband of Natalí so everyone mostly worshiped both of them together at Nati's temple. Various statues that depicted Nati's strength and valor in battles including the ones that depict Natalí healing him with her tears could be seen everywhere in the Temple's surroundings.

Sidha took a deep breath and thought of some reasonable come back. “Mr Chen Aryan, please don't be childish. The marriage between us is nothing but a mere contract we signed in front of some unknown people, I don't even consider it as marriage. For me marriage is a spiritual ceremony in which the elders of our families bless us, while performing all reeti reewaz (in India there are many rituals which a bride and groom has to complete, those are known as reeti reewaz) you realise how pure this relationship between two human being is, the color and smell of the mehndi (Indian wedding has a ceremony before the main day where the bride heena tattooed all over her arms, hands, legs and feet.) on

Holi is a popular ancient Indian festival, also known as the "Festival of Love" "Festival of Colours", and the "Festival of Spring". The festival celebrates the eternal and divine love of Radha Krishna. It also signifies the triumph of good over evil, as it celebrates the victory of Lord Vishnu. It originated and is predominantly celebrated in India and Nepal but has also spread to other regions of Asia and parts of the western world through the diaspora from the Indian subcontinent.

It's called 'prashad' in our place. I pour it in my mouth and jerk off the excess,not forgetting to touch the sweet on my forehead before I gulp it in. Well,I was taught all of it in India. Puja was more common there. My dad used to do it regularly. While me and Sonia tried to disturb him. Strange it was, but he never used to get angry on us even if we interrupted his devotional time. He used to believe in God. "There is a God above. He is always watching. So make sure that you do good things. Else he will punish you." His words reverberate in my mind while I keep staring at the idols. I don't think I believe in God. Not anymore.

But the Aghoran priest said that he could handle the yakshini, and so he was allowed to go ahead with his plans. Aghorans usually do not invoke a deity into a statue or an altar but into the corpse of someone recently dead. It is this practice in particular that has them shunned by most religious people in India. But desperate people often forget their religion when they need it most. There were so many dead at the time, the priest had his choice of corpses. But he chose Amba's body, and I think the fact of her late pregnancy attracted him. I was only a child at the time, but I could see something in the eyes of the priest that frightened me. Something cold and uncaring.

Janani was in the kitchen, preparing a sweet dish, when she felt a pair of arms snaking around her bare waist. She shuddered when she felt his touch. "Good morning wifey" he whispered huskily in her ears. "Good morning hubby" she greeted him back. "Why are you up so early?" Armaan asked "It's my pehli resoi (an Indian ritual), Armaan. I have to prepare something sweet" Janani said

I can feel Alessandro getting nervous so I give his hand a little squeeze to let him know that he doesn't need to recite as it will not be easy for him to do. After doing the Yagna, the priest asks us to stand up to perform the ritual of 'Saptapadi' where we instruct to make seven circular rounds around the holy fire to solemnize the occasion. After that, I am given a bronze plate where Dadabhai puts puffed rice that is known as Khoi to perform the ritual 'Anjali'. Alessandro stands behind me and we together pour the puff rice on the fire.

'I love you too Vance' Purple said, mirroring her Alpha's loving gaze. 'Son, its time to take the blessings' Albert said pointing at the line of elderly couples standing in front of the main table, ready to bless the Alpha and his Girl, a long and happy life. Vance turned his gaze away from his beautiful wife and looked in front, everybody was waiting to bless him and his Purple, a happy life, this thought made his heart beat fast. He touches his parent's feet (an Indian ritual to touch parents feet for blessing) before he took Purple's hand in his and slowly walked around the round table to stand in front of the crowd waiting for them.