From our childhood, we've all heard and read the Mahabharat, a tale of rivalry and enmity among cousins which resulted in massive destruction. Even now, if you visit the lands of Kurukshetra, the soil is redder than the red soil.
Ameliorate means t...
In the heart of the forest, Kunti and Pandu returned to their revered meditation spot, a serene clearing bathed in dappled sunlight filtering through ancient, towering trees. The couple assumed the same meditative posture, their faces reflecting the deep focus they had maintained when seeking blessings for Bheem and Yudhistir. Meanwhile, Bheem's laughter echoed as he played with Yudhistir, under the attentive gaze of Madri in their cozy, leaf-thatched hut nearby.
As the seasons transitioned and months unfurled, the tranquil ambiance was suddenly pierced by rumbling thunderstorms. The air grew thick with anticipation, and in a dramatic display, Lord Indra materialized before them, his presence electrifying the atmosphere.
"Your unwavering devotion touches my heart, Kunti," Indra intoned, his voice imbued with warmth and authority. "I bestow upon you a son, compassionate yet fierce, who will bring honor and glory to your lineage. He shall be so kind-hearted yet furious toward enemies. He shall bring fame to your family with his valour. He shall be known as Arjun, the Indra among men." With his blessing reverberating in the air, Indra vanished into the misty veil of the forest.
On their journey homeward, amidst the whispering leaves and soft chirping of birds, they came upon a disheartening sight. A chandala woman, her once vibrant attire now reduced to tatters, stood forlornly by the path. Stirred by empathy, Kunti approached her, handing over her newborn son to her beloved husband, her footsteps soft on the forest floor.
"Mahodaya, are you well? Why do you find yourself here, in such a state of distress?" Kunti's voice was gentle, filled with genuine concern.
The woman's reply came as a sigh, laden with weariness. "I am but a poor chandala, wandering these lands in search of sustenance."
With a comforting smile, Kunti reassured her, "Worry not. Come with us, and we shall provide for your needs."
Upon reaching their humble abode, the warmth of Madri's welcome enveloped the weary traveler. Their dwelling echoed with the sounds of hospitality, as the chandala woman's hunger and thirst were tended to. In this atmosphere of compassion, the woman hesitated before revealing a poignant wish.
"May I hold your child?" Her request was hesitant, almost whispered. "I promise, I shall return him to you."
Though surprised, the family consented, owing to respecting her wishes as a guest. As the chandala woman cradled the infant, a brilliant light suddenly filled the room, unveiling the ethereal form of Goddess Saraswati.
With a voice that resonated like a gentle melody, Goddess Saraswati addressed them, her gaze warm and approving. "Kunti, Pandu, Madri, your kindness has deeply touched me. Despite knowing my disguise as a chandala, you welcomed me with open hearts, showing true hospitality and even entrusting me with your child. For this reason, I bestow upon you a blessing."
She paused, allowing her words to sink in, her divine presence filling the room with awe and reverence. "This child was crafted by Lord Brahma himself, blessed by the tridevis and tridevas. Born only a few days ago by earthly reckoning, she will be renowned for her intelligence and will play a significant role in the unfolding tapestry of the future. Henceforth, she shall be known as Vidansha. I bless you with my beloved daughter."
With a graceful gesture, Goddess Saraswati presented a beautiful baby girl to Kunti, Pandu, and Madri. The infant's eyes sparkled with a wisdom beyond her days, echoing the divine essence of her bestower.
After entrusting them with the child, Saraswati extended her hands once more in a final blessing. Her ethereal form shimmered with a soft glow before gracefully dissolving into a cascade of radiant light, leaving the family enveloped in a profound sense of divine favor and wonder.
Meanwhile, in the grand halls of Hastinapur, the pots burst open, giving way to the birth of three more princes. Each birth was greeted with elation, and Gandhari and Dhritarashtra reveled in the happiness of the moment, relieved that this time no ill omens marred their celebrations.
"Maharaj, if you allow me, shall I name this child?" Shakuni's voice broke the silence referring to the second prince.
"Of course, Shakuni. You are his uncle after all," Dhritarashtra replied, nodding in approval.
"In that case," Shakuni declared, "I name this child Dussasan."
Bhisma's brows furrowed in concern, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Naming a child 'bad governance'? What are you thinking, Shakuni!?" His tone was edged with anger and disapproval.
Anticipating the tension that Shakuni's naming choice would ignite, Gandhari swiftly intervened, her voice calm yet assertive. "Tatshree, I'm sure Bhratashree meant no harm by his choice. Isn't that right, Bhratashree?" She cast a pointed glance at Shakuni, urging diplomacy.
Shakuni responded with feigned innocence, in a sickly sweet voice. "Of course not, dear sister. If Mahamahim takes issue with the name Dussasan, perhaps I could also name him Sussasan. Would that be more agreeable, Mahamahim?"
Bhisma, seeking to maintain peace, replied calmly, "I have no problem."
Gandhari turned to Dhritarashtra, her eyes seeking his approval. "Arya, shall I name our third child?"
"Of course. You don't even have to ask, Gandhari," Dhritarashtra responded warmly.
Smiling softly, Gandhari announced her choice. "Okay, this boy shall be respectful to his elders and always listen to his elder brothers. I name him Dussalan."
Dhritarashtra nodded in agreement, then inquired, "What about our fourth son?"
"I believe Mata should name him," Gandhari suggested.
Ambika stepped forward, gently taking the infant from Dhritarashtra's arms. "This child has been quiet and contemplative since his birth. He shall be known as Jalagandha," she declared.
Back in their dwelling, Madri's eyes often lingered on the children, her gaze imbued with a mixture of love and longing. Kunti, ever observant, noticed this and, when Pandu proposed seeking blessings for another child, she gently declined.
"Madri deserves to experience motherhood as well," Kunti told Pandu softly. Grateful for such a compassionate wife, Pandu set forth with Madri, their hearts full of hope and anticipation, to seek blessings for their next child.
Hello Friends. Hope you liked the birth of Arjun and Vidansha. The next chapter will cover the birth of the rest of the children of Kuruvansh. I will update it today or tomorrow. Bye-bye.
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