To care for something sacred, one must become part of it. Hothlal Pari, the guardian spirit of Karoonjhar, embodies this truth: not only through myth but through memory etched into stone, water, and wind.

She is remembered differently across time. In the Satya Yuga, she was harmony itself: not a winged figure, but a presence. She moved with the rhythm of clean wells, untamed forests, and a land alive with balance. Her guardianship was quiet, interwoven with the landscape, not separate from it.

But as the Yugas turned and danger drew near, she transformed. In the Treta Yuga, she emerged in defense: sometimes remembered as a mortal woman in a warrior’s guise, dressed as a man, shaped for resistance. Her shapeshifting was not fantasy; it was survival. In a world where stories are coded strategies, she adapted as the land was threatened.

This idea of transformation runs deep across Kutch, Gujarat, and Sindh. Women become wind. Spirits vanish into salt. Fairies appear only when the earth calls them. Even in Paheli, a ghost takes the form of a man to protect love. These are not tales of escape but expressions of resilience: of identity shaped by necessity, love, and care.