Book Ӡ in PandavaNandini Trilogy
" Our love would remain forever, eternally going beyond the elixir of heaven and poison of hell ".
The deadliest war has come to an end , victory flag sways through the breeze leaving behind nothing but a stinging...
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-|| When Virtue Ascends ||-
In the realm where virtue soars, hearts find solace in its ethereal embrace.
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The dawning of a new era had finally arrived.
As the Pandavas returned to Hastinapura, seeking blessings from the aging Dhritirashtra and the sorrowful Gandhari, the air hung heavy with disappointment and anguish. The half-hearted blessings they received from the bereaved couple mirrored the lingering sadness that permeated the atmosphere.
Yet, amidst this somber backdrop, a ray of warmth pierced through the melancholy, offered by Vidura.
"Welcome home, my children," the words of Vidura cut through the veil of sorrow that enveloped the Pandavas. Though it could not bring a smile to their faces, it brought a small flicker of warmth to their hearts.
Embracing Vidura, the Pandavas sought his blessings. Each embrace lingered, accompanied by whispered assurances that reached the depths of their souls.
"Forgive us, child. I know it is not right for me to ask," Vidura placed his hand upon Draupadi's head, bestowing his blessing, "It is indeed Hastinapura's blessing that you have given this land a second chance."
"Kakashree," Draupadi's voice was soft, filled with understanding, "The past is the past. Those who wronged me are no more. I held no grievances against Hastinapura then, and I hold none now. I can only thank you for the voice you raised for me on that fateful day."
A gentle smile graced Vidura's lips, a smile tinged with sadness. He had raised his voice, but he had failed to save his daughter. The weight of that failure would forever crush his spirit.
Meanwhile, the Pandavapatnis attempted to engage in conversation with the wives of the fallen Kauravas, who regarded them with accusing eyes, seeing them as culprits responsible for the deaths of their husbands.
"Didi," Valandhara spoke softly to Bhanumati, reaching out her hand.
Bhanumati withdrew her hand, her eyes filled with naked hatred that pierced Valandhara's heart. "You can assume that I am dead to you," Bhanumati's voice trembled with anger. "I do not need your fake sympathy, Queen of Bhima. The man who killed my lord with deceit..." her voice trailed off as tears streamed down her face, her rage threatening to consume her.
"But didi, wasn't deceit plotted by your lord first?" Valandhara shook her head, attempting to reason, "That is not the point I wish to discuss, didi. I am here today as your sister."
"Sister," Bhanumati chuckled bitterly, "It did not occur to you, when my Duryodhana was killed, that your sister would become a widow. Very well, you refuse to listen to me, then let me make myself clear, Maharani Valandhara—I have no living sister. You are dead to me."
