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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-|| Duality's Canvas ||-
Painting the Divided Horizon of the Self.
◊◊◊
Hastinapura
As the sun sank to brighten the other part of the world , Suthanu diligently concluded her day's labor amid the scrolls of accounts of Indraprastha.
Each member of the royal family of Indraprastha, a cog in the wheel of governance, had taken on distinct responsibilities. Bhanu, a beacon of administrative prowess, orchestrated the harmonious symphony of sustenance, needs of common people, and official appointments along with planning of the developments. Meanwhile Suthanu herself, custodian of the royal coffers and the economic pulse of the realm, navigated the intricate waters of trade. Dhruv and Ajay, guardians of the realm's might, vigilantly tended to the martial forces, albeit it was of lesser concern for the time being after the Kurukshetra war. The major focus was on city's security and not on the preparations for extending the territory.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the palace, Suthanu approached Kunti in the Pooja place. The beads of a rosary gently cascading through Kunti's fingers through ease as the latter was absorbed in prayers.
"Pitamahi," Suthanu, with warmth, encircled Kunti, who had just completed her worship from behind. Kunti smiled placing her palm on Suthanu's head before offering the Prasadam.
"How was your day, my child?" inquired Kunti, the lines of wisdom etched gracefully on her countenance.
"Amazing, Pitamahi, for where you dwell, worry finds no refuge," Suthanu responded, a genuine smile illuminating her face. "Pitruvyaa has agreed upon our planned endeavours with her consent," she added, sharing the news of crucial significance.
A shared moment of joy blossomed between them, the fragrance of which lingered in the air. Concern, however, drew Suthanu's gaze toward Kunti's well-being.
"How is your health, Pitamahi?" she queried, a filial concern reflected in her eyes.
Kunti responded with a smile, "Your inquiry is a daily ritual, my child. I am well, as well as one can be in my age.The years bestow their gentle reminders on this aging frame, but worry not; it is but a natural course."
Suthanu, however, was not one to dismiss such matters lightly. "Old? Who, Pitamahi?" she quirked a brow. "Let us stroll together. People will wonder if you are my elder sister."
"Bangaram," Kunti chuckled, a term of endearment. "What mischief has my ladla Krishna brewed in you?"
"Anything to bring joy, Pitamahi," Suthanu retorted, though the truth in her words resonated. "But, mark my words, your true joy lies in Pita. Each passing day is a step closer to the moment when he shall stand by your side again."
