My Days in Mahabharat

Gallantary and Poems

Indraprastha

If you are with the son of winds who possess the strength of thousands of elephants, you are not to believe that he shall talk to you about something else than the wars and battlefield and maces and bloodshed and his lion like club and how he killed a hundred bad guys with a single blow of his weapon.

Vrikodar Bheem has poetries. We sometimes patrol the commoner's area at the hushed hours of noon. When my Mama used to say that "robbers can also rob you in clear light of the day" I thought she was doing this just to keep me inside the house, but mothers are always true. Lately with the arrival of merchant ships, goons were also welcomed. Hence we suffered loss of people and property. Nakul believes it to be a stratagem of kingdoms which are planning a espionage. Indeed the grandiose and impregnable walls of fortification keeps the royal grounds under strict and tight security, our main concern was the safety of people. There were stationed arms troops on each crossway and disguised army men mingled with the crowds in the hustling bustling bazaars. I did my small part by a speech of motivation to women and children.

"Always keep a knife, dagger or this big sharp nail with you, hidden in your breast, griddle or turban or whatever suits you. We are all lionesses and cubs of them. You aren't killing somebody, you are just making the heartbeats stop, blessing the soul to clad a different piece of skin. Never hesitate in protecting what is your blood and sweat, never"

I think Bheem allowed to me to tag along because of my words. He says you have a charm, a charm of a leader such as people believe what you say blindly. I would laugh at him for I am not an enchantress for sure. Instead I contradict my bubbling vanity at the compliments by fusing them with a statement. People love newness, words of enchanting convincing terms, perhaps delusions which drives their adrenaline to fight and win.

The alleys were silent and swirls of sand played secretly at the cantering hooves of the horses. Bheem leaned forward perfectly holding the halter ropes in his hands and pecked the head of his mahogany stallion Tejas. Raising a brow he simpered looking at me, and hummed a tune.

Bheem singing wasn't very serene but it was slaying the humdrum of noon. Ismiled and tossed a raspberry in my mouth from the tiny jute damp bag on my waist, it was trick to keep those fruits from turning hot in the loo.

"O my beloved, how are you so wicked, so oblivious to my love when the rain weeps with me, sun burns with me and you, you run away but leave a void behind, for my heart and soul is yours to savour, please stay do me a favour, do me favour"

"I am so late to this fortune, Bheem has poetries!" I appreciated, even though poetries from his mouth seemed as if he was snarling softly before breaking the spine of his enemy.

"I do know that you're a silver tongue. Still you may sing songs of my praise. I can definitely do other activities but singing like a nightingale" Vrikodar snatched the berry from my hand as I tried to hide my laughter behind that tiny defence. "Add your line to it my dear Simran, we've to while away the afternoon because the goons I believe have already fled from the security and there are rumours that they may not return"

"I will add a line, indeed." I pondered and participated with an easy word that rhymed with favour, "it goes like-like. . . Embrace me forever and rule the lands of heart forever"

"Impressive, who shall embrace you forever and rule the lands of your heart forever then? Spill it. You don't hide such secrets and tales from a friend now" Bheem halted and so did I, pulling the reigns and rubbing rhe scruff of my Purple.

He is a prince Bheem and you know him very well.

We reached the military grounds. The woods towards the north our palace, chanted with healing and mystical of spells by sages and apprentices of the brahmin wives' penance, perimeter of the forest was impregnable. Hence we preserved this latibule for our armies. The espionage activites records, spies and the secret sovereign affairs of the capital had a home in these woods.

The dry and dead branches of oldest banyan and elm trees with fallen and faded autumn leaves creaked beneath our feet. The noontide sun unlike the other summer afternoon was warm, streaks of komorebi panting on those grounds secured by the canopies. The hawks peered from their preferred of oak wood nest, keeping eyes on any unrealistic activities and threats.

"I won't let you have your share of the sweets until and unless you tell me who is the lucky man?" Bheem was removing his crown as he handed the gold and emerald cluster to a servant while we walked towards the banyan tree where arrangements for lunch were in progress.

"Why don't tell me first, since you-you were the one to start poems of love at first?" I retorted, much grateful to the scorching sun for blazing my wheat face red. Ofcourse it's not blush.

Vrikodar Bheem abruptly stopped and gazed towards the rarely visible sky but the virescence breached by the aureate globe of fire, he smiled and stooped to pick a clover leaf from the ground, hidden in the coral and sepia leaves carpet. Clovers are considered to be bringing luck. The second of the Pandavas procured and treasured the leaf in the green velvet bag around his wolf belly.

"I asked first Simran, I will tell you, but you first. Who is that man? Some merchant? Philosopher or perhaps a prince?"

"None of that" He's an archer. I lied at last, waving my hand to the hawks who leapt and teared the yonder gleefully.

The son of winds laughed voraciously such as that, a flock of migratory birds were seen claiming the sky for the not so loud laughter of Vrikodar mayhap have invaded the quietude. He raised a brow and raked his strong fingers in his maple dark curls. A swirl of cool zephyr danced around the woods and the general approached us, informing the lunch is to be commenced.

"I am so hungry, cannot wait to dive in to the kheer Om, let us go" ever so hungry Bheem walked with the senior general of the army who had smiled knowingly. "Do join soon princ-my lady" the general fumbled in his words due to my orders of not being addressed as a princess.

However I was still waiting for an answer so I called out to Bheem. He signalled the general to move ahead and stopped in his tracks looking at me from over his shoulder, his tawny eyes screaming- I am hungry.

"Who made you a poet? You promised me the answer, can't deny now"

Bheem closed his eyes and heaved a sigh, he gazed at the canopied sky again and looked down at the ground, at the place from where he plucked the clover leaf from. There was a stillness and querencia, in him.

"Hidimba"