Arjuna: Each Scar Narrates A Tale...

Episode 7

"Hey, you five! Come over!" A princely figure called us while we were exploring the palace.

They were huge in number, and each of them was draped in royal clothes followed by gold ornaments. Mother had told us about 101 sons of the Emperor, maybe it was them.

A little joy to my mind thinking that we have so many playmates, maybe it would be of help to forget the empty void we were feeling recently.

As we approached them, they started yelling, "Are you new here? Don't you know that you need to bow before the Crown prince?"

Jyestha keeping his calm composture, replied. "We aren't servants, I guess there's some misunderstanding. We are the sons of King Pandu."

Dismantling the crowd of princes, two of them highlighted their entry as they made way to front. One was draped in a blue angvastram and dhoti following the other who wore black dhoti along purple angvastram.

"Be it a prince, or servant. One must bow before me. And with those clothes of Adivasis, do you actually consider yourself as a Prince?" The leading prince called out.

"How dare—" Bheema grabbed him by head.

He was like that, getting angry on small matters as long as it involved the people he loved. But it was one attribute of him in itself.

"Bheema! Leave him! We are brothers!" Bheema left him, accepting the command from Yudhisthira.

"We–" his voice was interrupted by another elderly voice approaching.

Walking through the pebble path, Pitamaha made his way to us. Beside him was the King Dhritarastra, who's hand was held by a servant to help him walk.

Two more servants followed up carrying a red cushioned chair. It was layed just beside us, and the king sat on it.

"What do you think of your cousins?" Dhritarastra inquired, making himself comfortable on the seat.

"My king, they have just got to know each other, give them more time to mix up," Pitamaha stated, assuming that we did need some time to adjust.

We, along our newly found brothers, made our way to the playground. I can hear some light mumbling among the Kauravas about us. It wasn't something new. Since we arrived in the palace, we have often seen maids or servants whispering glancing at us.

Just in minutes, our way ended to another large ground. Different types of wooden weapons hanging on a big tree of Peepal. Targets placed at one of the corners. Bows were the first to come in my notice.

Unable to stop this urge, I quickly ran up and picked up a bow. Driving my fingers over it, I started feeling nostalgic. It was nothing like what father made.

Carving the wood, precisely just with his hands. Writing my name on the corner to tell that it was mine now. And I would jump on him, arms wide open to hug.

"You are the best father!"

"Really? Let's see if you say the same when I scold you next time," he teased, still hugging me tightly.

Lost in the moments of warmth, my thoughts broke with the joyful yells of Brother Bheema.

I looked around to find him, and there he was. Throwing his one leg on the ground, raising dust. I giggled for a moment, in realisation that our cousins were also trying the same. That too, only to overpower Bheema but the situation looked the other way round.

Days went by, I still don't know why I feel like something's off. Our cousins doesn't seem to enjoy playing with us very much. It was the same everyday, we would start a match then midway through they will stop it as soon as any of us started to overpower them.

Mother said that they were brought up in the palace, and royals often don't accept failure. Maybe she was just trying to excuse us into giving them time adjusting with us.

However soon enough, it was like we were poles apart. They started playing among themselves, even if we approach them, we would get ignored.

To fill this breaking rift, elders organised a new spot to play, near a water channel. As excited it looked, there was a different aura of adventure in it. Long dives into the river, and competiting against who can hold breathe for long.

One afternoon, after a long time of winning against us, Bheema retired to the camp. Duryodhana and his uncle followed behind him soon. I had seen the two whispering something to each other.
Soon afterwards, Bheema went missing.

The news spread like fire to each corner of the palace. The new hot topic for discussion among the servants and maids. All this time, I have been observing Duryodhana. Especially that growing look of horror on his face as he went on whispering to the king of Gandhar nervously. The gestures looked as if uncle was trying to calm him down.

Court was called, ministers were informed not to mention about this case outside to avoid public unrest. Servants and maids were warned not to gossip. And mens were sent in search of Bheema.

Mother's tears flowed like river, she knew what was beneath the case that wasn't even mentioned in the court. Even Pitamah did. I guessed that eldest also had slight idea about the reason behind Duryodhana's fright. It was surely not one out of affection.

Nakula-Sahadeva had already grown a lot mature since we arrived in the palace. I think they now knew what happened to father but decided to not mention it. They had their own part of sorrow bottled up.

Never in my life had I thought, there could be so much of evil down the Shatasringa hills.

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Hlo!!
After a millenia, ek naya update xD with a not very suspenseful cliff hanger.