Check out the theme here: A Retelling of Valli and Karttikeya’s Love Story
This post is a part of BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026.
***
The villagers groaned and shook their heads, wondering why it felt as if they woke up from a deep sleep. They slowly sat, helping each other move, and stretched their limbs. Nampi looked around in confusion, wondering what had happened, and tried to remember why they were in a forest at night.
Then, it came rushing back—Valli’s disappearance, the old man saying she vanished, the news that someone saw her in a forest, their search, and finding a couple in embrace, and feeling enraged that someone took his daughter away.
But what happened after that? It was still foggy and unclear.
“Appa! You are fine. Do you have any injuries?” His sons asked as they helped him stand.
Nampi felt fine, a bit disoriented, but fine. “Valli? We were searching for her.”
“Yes, Appa. I remember, too.”
“Valli, my child! Where are you?”
Nampi’s heartfelt call moved Skanda. Valli was already crying in relief and happiness.
“Shall we appear before them?” he asked.
Valli nodded. Skanda wiped her tears and kissed her cheeks. “Smile now. We don’t want them to think you are unhappy with me.”
“I can never be unhappy with you,” she murmured.
Skanda and Valli’s forms shimmered and solidified in the forest clearing as the villagers gasped in shock. His sons surrounded Nampi as they stared, stunned, eyes wide and mouths hanging open.
Valli looked radiant and ethereal, with a bright smile on her face. A man… no, deva, he couldn’t be any ordinary human with such a powerful red-gold muscular body, stood beside her, holding a golden spear. Near his feet were a peacock and a rooster. Bright light filled the forest and turned night into day, surrounding the couple.
“Skanda!”
“Mu… Murugan…”
“Karttikeya!”
The villagers whispered in awe and fell to their knees, bending low to touch their heads to the ground in reverence.
“Appa!” Valli called her father. He stood with the help of his sons and took a step toward her. Then, he paused, unsure whether he could now touch his daughter.
Valli rushed into his arms instead. “Appa! It is I, you little girl.”
Nampi thought she still felt like his daughter, the girl he had carried in his arms and on his shoulders countless times. Was it only a couple of hours ago that he and his wife discussed her marriage? It seemed as if his wife was correct. Skanda had come for their daughter.
The thought startled him. “Deva… it is you!”
Murugan smiled at the villagers, especially the man who would be his father-in-law. “Yes, it’s me. Valli’s love was so strong that I had to come.”
The villagers fell to their knees again, singing prayers and praises. Skanda stopped Nampi from doing the same. “I ask you for your daughter’s hand in marriage. Will you bless us?”
Valli blinked back her tears and gave her father an encouraging smile, urging him to say yes.
“O Murugan deva, it would be an honor. Please accept my daughter as your wife,” Nampi replied, his voice hoarse and low. Valli’s brothers too nodded, staring at her and Skanda.
“Since it is late now, we’ll meet in the morning,” Skanda said.
Everyone agreed as if in a trance. They walked back to the village, many of them almost sure that it was a dream. Nampi and his sons, however, were wide awake as they escorted Valli home.
Mangai was outside the house, crying and praying. Valli ran to her as the others followed behind.
Nampi gestured for everyone to go inside first. They had much to talk about.
***
The new day began with a lingering sense of awe and soon grew into boundless excitement and a buzz of activity. True to his word, Skanda had arrived to meet Nampi and his family. The wedding was finalized to take place in a week. The villagers continued to sing his praises as they worked on their farms with renewed vigor. They quickly finished harvesting the remaining crops as the women made lists in their minds and arranged the yield in piles.
Valli and Skanda’s wedding was to be the biggest celebration ever witnessed in their village. Merpati would remember it forever.
