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...
The sun began its descent, painting a breathtaking golden hue across the grand Chaitanya Lok. Srinav stepped into the room, his gaze immediately drawn to Amarsri, who stood gracefully on the balcony.
A smile adorned her face, and he could sense an overwhelming aura of pure bliss emanating from her very being.
"Aaj kal aap badi prasann pratit hoti hai, Devi." Srinav said standing beside her, the corners of his eyes crinkled.
Amarsri smilingly said, "Prasann kyu na hou dev ? Pandu ke raaj mei, Bharatvarsh ka kalyaan jo ho raha hai."
In the magnificent land under the rule of Pandu, bountiful crops flourished and the harvests overflowed with abundance. The heavens graciously showered rain at precisely the right moments, nurturing the land and ensuring its fertility. The trees, in their generosity, bestowed upon them a profusion of vibrant flowers and succulent fruits.
No soul suffered in wretchedness, and not a single woman was left to endure the sorrow of widowhood. The Kurus, with their unwavering dedication, embellished the country's beauty manifold. They constructed wells, resting places, grand assemblies, serene tanks, and splendid residences for the revered Brahmanas.
The people embodied bravery, wisdom, integrity, and sheer bliss. They ardently embraced the sacred rituals of dharma, selflessly practiced charity, and fervently performed sacrifices.
With the wealth won by Pandu, Dhritrashtra performed great sacrifices equivalent to a hundred Ashwamedh, in terms of the hundreds and thousands of alms that were given.
With boundless love and affection for one another, the subjects thrived in prosperity, their lives intertwined in a harmonious symphony. They were devoid of the poisonous vices of pride, anger, and avarice, instead choosing to uplift each other and foster collective prosperity.
The wheel of dharma once again began to turn once more in the sacred land of Bharatvarsh, casting its radiant light upon all.
"Jab Pandu ka raaj dekhti hu, toh aisa lagta hai ki punah Ram-rajya dekh rahi hu." Amarsri said.
Srinav sighed in delight, "So toh hai."
-- SOME TIME LATER --
Pandu sat cross-legged on a woven mat, surrounded by high walls of dried grass, in his thatched hut. The evening sun peeked through the small openings in the roof, casting a warm glow over him.
Having gained mastery over his senses, Pandu withdrew to the depths of the forest alongside his beloved wives, Kunti and Madri. He willingly abandoned his opulent palace, bidding farewell to its exquisite beds, and embraced a life of permanence amidst the wilderness. There, he resided, a vigilant overseer of the kingdom's affairs, while indulging in the exhilarating pursuit of hunting.
Pandu's footsteps echoed on the southern slopes of the majestic Himalaya Mountains, traversing the vast mountain plains and seeking solace within the embrace of ancient forests adorned with towering shala trees.
With swords, arrows, and bows in hand, and adorned in resplendent armor, the king roamed the untamed wilderness, his presence akin to that of a deity in the eyes of the forest-dwellers.
"Yeh kaha rakhe Samrat ?" Some men asked carrying a pile of clay, water and certain tools. On Dhritrashtra's command, the forest men always gave him every object of desire and pleasure in the forest.
"Yaha." Pandu said pointing at the small table in front of him. The men obeyed and did what he told them.
Pouring some water on the clay, the king's fingers deftly molded and shaped the material into the likeness of a powerful warrior goddess.
His wives stood nearby, their colorful garments contrasting with the earthy tones of the hut. They watched with intrigued expressions as the king worked on the idol, their eyes filled with admiration and reverence.
"Aap kya kar rahe hai, Rajan ?" Madri asked raising a brow.
Kunti said, "Arya Devi Aryabharti ki pratima bana rahe hai."
Madri casted an irritated glance at her cowife, "Maine prashn apne pati se pucha tha."
"Humare pati vyast hai. Iss liye maine uttar de diya." Kunti said calmly.
The princess of Mleccha huffed folding her arms. Pandu being devoted to his craft didn't want to be disturbed for he sought to honor the goddess, who worshipped as the queen of all kings, and being a king felt a deep sense of duty to pay homage to her.
As Pandu put the finishing touches on the statue, the image of the goddess sitting on a intricately crafted throne, with a spear in one hand and a small flag in the other emerged.
He then placed the idol on a small shrine in the hut and with reverence, he closed his eyes and bowed down in front of it.
"तव दण्डः पृथिव्याः भारं वहति, धर्मचक्रं चालयति दुष्टदण्डं च ददाति। अधर्मान् हन्ति खड्गः तव धनुः नरकाग्निम् आनयति | तव शूलं शौर्यस्य निष्प्रभो सागरः, तव गदा योद्धाराजेषु शक्तिं प्रवर्तयति। तव कवचं भारतवर्षं रक्षति सभ्यतां च रक्षति|" Pandu muttered to please the goddess. (Your scepter bears the burden of earth, it moves the wheel of Dharma and punishes the evil. Your sword slays the unrighteous and your bow brings hell fire. Your spear is the never ending ocean of bravery, your mace instills power in the warrior kings. Your shield protects Bharatvarsh and protects the civilisation.)
Opening his eyes he looked at the idol, "Akhand Maharani prasann ho." He prayed.
The women observed him, fascinated by his devotion and the aura surrounding the goddess.
Pandu then turned and looked at Madri, "Yeh murti maine iss liye banayi hai, jisse yeh mujhe Rajdharm aur apne kartavyo ka smaran dilaati rahe."
"Toh aap yeh swayam keh dete." Madri said raising her chin.
Kunti shook her head while Pandu sighed, he said, "Accha, agli baar se dhyaan rakhunga."
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Another myth by serials.... That Pandu left to forest when he got the curse. But in reality, Pandu had gone to live in forest long before, because he had controlled all his senses.
He was still the king, but he operated from the forest.
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