The stage is set for another leela of Bhagwaan Vishnu, where all the gods and goddesses play a significant role. Now starts the saga where heartbreaking curses, graceful boons and divine mercy combine to write a history to be remembered through the...
In the training grounds of Hastinapur palace, three teenage princes were diligently honing their skills. With each metallic clash echoing through the stillness, their practice swords danced in a choreographed symphony of lethal artistry.
Their movements were swift and precise, fueled by an unrelenting determination to uphold their noble lineage's legacy and restore their kingdom's glory.
With each swing, their swords cut through the air like zealous thunderbolts, echoing in a chorus of metallic clash and triumphant roars. Wielding weapons crafted by master artisans, every strike carried the weight of ancestral honor and inexhaustible ambition.
Soon Mahamahim Bhishm entered the arena, his eyes scanned the young princes in their late teens.
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He stood under the canopy, and critically observed the moves of each prince. He had reared the three as if they were his own sons. He made them go through rites, they studied and observed vows. When they attained youth, they became skilled in labour, exercise, archery, horsemanship, fighting with clubs, shields and swords, the science of elephants and the sacred texts of ethics.
Dhritrashtra, the eldest among them, was a man of extraordinary vigor despite his blindness. Every movement he made was a testament to the immense strength that coursed through his veins, akin to the power of ten thousand mighty elephants. Truly, there was no equal to him when it came to sheer physical might.
On the other hand, the youngest of the trio, Vidur, born to Ambika's handmaiden, showcased a different kind of brilliance. With a graceful sway, he wielded his weapon with unparalleled skill.
However, it was widely acknowledged that his true strength lay not in his physicality, but in his unmatched wisdom and unwavering intellect. None could rival his unwavering devotion to the righteous path of Dharma.
While both Dhritrashtra and Vidur were skilled enough to command admiration from onlookers, it was evident that the son of Ambalika, the prodigiously gifted Pandu, stood head and shoulders above his peers. Each flick of his wrist was laced with finesse; each swing of his sword unleashed a symphony of elegant destruction.
While both Dhritrashtra and Vidur commanded admiration from all who beheld their abilities, it was abundantly clear that the son of Ambalika, the prodigiously gifted Pandu, stood head and shoulders above his peers.
Every flick of his wrist exuded an air of finesse, as if each movement was a carefully choreographed dance. With every swing of his sword, a symphony of elegant destruction unfolded, leaving all in awe of his unparalleled mastery.
Pandu's strength did not solely reside in his sword, but also in his mastery of spears, maces, axes, wrestling, and above all, archery. In this art of bows and arrows, he surpassed all other men, leaving them in awe of his unparalleled skill.
Yet, his prowess extended far beyond the realm of weaponry. Pandu possessed a profound knowledge of history, the Puranas, and various other branches of learning. Just like his brothers, he was well-versed in the intricate details of the Vedas, the Vedangas, and their profound theories.
Bhishm found himself deeply impressed by the abilities of all three brothers. However, it was Pandu, the undisputed heir apparent, who captured his attention and admiration the most. The sheer magnitude of Pandu's talents and his unwavering dedication to honing his skills left Bhishm in a state of awe.
"Aaj ke liye itna paryaapt hai." Gangeya said, his voice echoing through the training grounds. At his command, all the three princes let go of their swords.
Pandu approached his blind brother, and holding him by his hand, led Dhritrashtra to where Bhism was, as Vidur also followed behind. The son of Shantanu proudly looked at the grandsons of Shantanu, satisfied with their valour.
But still a sense of worry was gnawing at his heart.
"Teeno mere saath aao." He said and walked outside the training grounds, as the three princes followed him behind.
Bhishm took them to the courtyard of the palace, where the colossal statue of Ramsuta Rameshwari stood with all its grandeur. Gangeya joined his hands and bowed his head in front of it, and then looked back the princes.
"Maine tum teeno ko Rajkumari Rameshwari ke talwaar ke baare mei toh bataya hi tha." He said and pointed at the sword, covered in heaps of red vermilion powder, offered by warriors as a sign of devotion and respect.
"Ha." Vidur said, "Aapne kaha tha ki iss talwar ko dharmgyaaniyo mei sarvashresht vyakti hi utha sakta hai, aur jo ise utha leta hai woh sampurn prithvi par raaj karta hai."
"Satyavachan. Yeh talwar swargiya Samrat Shantanu ne uthai thi. Uske baad yeh talwaar kisi se nahi uthi. Na mujhse, na Swargiya Maharaj Chitrangad se aur na hi Swargiya Maharaj Vichitraveerya se." Bhishm said as he glanced back at the sword.
Gangeya then gazed back at the middle prince, "Pandu, tum yuvraj ho. Iss talwaar ko uthaane ke prayas karo."
"Tatshree, yadi yeh talwaar aapse nahi uthi toh Pandu se kaise uthegi ?" Dhritrashtra asked.
Bhishm too had this doubt in mind, but he desperately wanted someone to pick the sword up, so he can be assured Hastinapur would be in safe hands.
The pale complexioned prince smiled, "Prayas karke dekhta hu, Jyesht. Yadi aaj nahi uthi, toh ise uthaane yogya banne ki cheshta karunga."
Pandu took a step forward, his gaze fixed upon the grand statue of Rameshwari. With utmost reverence, he gracefully bowed before the majestic figure. His eyes then shifted to the stage where the mighty sword, rested amidst vibrant vermilion.
Inhaling deeply, the son of Ambalika extended his hands towards the sword's sheath, feeling the weight of anticipation settle upon his shoulders. As his palms made contact with the sheath, a crimson residue stained his pale skin.
With an unwavering determination, he clutched the sacred emblem of dharma, summoning every ounce of his being to conquer its weight. Yet, the sword's burden appeared insurmountable.
Pandu's sinews strained, his arms pulsating with effort, as beads of perspiration cascaded down his furrowed brow, his countenance flushed with exertion. Bhishm's gaze fixated anxiously upon him, witnessing the prince's valiant struggle to wield the formidable weapon.
And then, it happened.
The sword stirred.
A thunderous roar erupted from Pandu's lips as he hoisted the sword aloft. His trembling hands fought to maintain their grip on the mighty weapon of Rameshwari. Bhishm's lips parted in awe, while Vidur stood transfixed, unable to comprehend the spectacle unfolding before them.
But alas, the weight proved too burdensome, and with a thunderous crash, the sword plummeted back to the stage, slipping from Pandu's grasp, his strength waning.
"Antatah !" Bhishm proclaimed as he embraced Pandu, placing a kiss upon his head.
Dhritrashtra reached out to Vidur, "Kya huya ? Pandu thik toh hai na ?"
"Jyesht, Bhrata Pandu ne Rameshwari ki talwar utha li !" Vidur said beaming with happiness.
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Remember how some chapters ago, I had asked who will be the one to restore the lost glory of Shantanu's Hastinapur ?
It is Pandu. It was Pandu only. Not Yudhishthir, not Arjun not Parikshit, but Pandu.
Another myth, by star Plus Mahabharat, was that Dhritrashtra was going to be king and Vidur stopped his coronation. In reality, Dhritrashtra was never going to be the king because he was blind. Vidur also couldn't become King because of law, since he was not technically the son of Vichitraveerya (His mother was not the king's wife unlike Ambika and Ambalika, because of which Dhritarashtra and Pandu were recognised as Vichitraveerya's sons).
