The palace courtyard had transformed into a celestial stage, a hundred oil lamps flickering in perfect symmetry, casting shadows that danced to the rhythm of the dhol and conch shells. The air shimmered with the scent of rose water and sandalwood. Sacred chants echo through marble corridors as priests prepare the sanctum. The idol of Maa Durga, grand and radiant, stands adorned with silk, gold, and fresh marigold garlands. Her lion mount glares fiercely, guarding the divine space. The sandstone walls were bathed in silver moonlight, carved with scenes from epics and myths. It's Durga Ashtami, a day when the goddess descends to earth, the women in their brocade sarees carry kalashas and sing hymns passed down through generations, their voices weaving a spell of reverence and power. Dancers perform the Durga Stuti in a mesmerizing whirl of color and emotion, while food offerings are laid out on a silver platter.