Love Across Time

Sixty Seven

-𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓥𝓸𝔀𝓼-

Aanya's lungs burned with exertion, each desperate gasp fueling her frantic dash towards the makeshift camp. The once-quiet clearing was now a vibrant tapestry of sound and color. Laughter mingled with excited chatter, the rhythmic beat of drums thrumming in the air. Garlands of vibrant marigolds and fragrant jasmine adorned the entrance, a stark contrast to the hastily constructed shelters.

Relief washed over her as she finally reached the bustling heart of the camp. The Pandavas, their faces beaming with a joy that had seemed genuine and contagious, stood clustered behind Kunti. Kunti's back was facing them. Aanya slowed her approach, her gaze flitting between them, searching for some sign of distress on Draupadi's face, some flicker of doubt in Yudhishthira's eyes. Yet, there was none.

Just as Aanya opened her mouth to speak, a strange silence descended upon the group, thick and heavy like the humid afternoon air. Then, Kunti's voice, unwavering and firm, cut through the tension.

"Distribute amongst yourselves," she continued, her voice devoid of any emotion, "whatever you have got."

A collective gasp rippled through everyone. Aanya's heart lurched in her chest, a cold dread slithering down her spine. What did Kunti just say?

"Mata," Yudhishthira's voice filled with disbelief, shattering the suffocating silence. Aanya's legs betrayed her, a tremor running through her limbs as she stumbled back a step. Draupadi's face, moments ago radiant with happiness, was now shunned with a mask of shock.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as Nakul blurted out, "What did you do, Mata?"

Kunti, oblivious to the pandemonium she had unleashed, finally turned around. Her eyes, usually filled with a quiet wisdom, widened in confusion as they landed on Draupadi. She ran her gaze across her children, who all stood frozen in shock, their expressions a chilling reflection of Aanya's own dawning horror. A cold sweat prickled at Aanya's skin as she strained to hear the answer.

The air crackled with unspoken questions and a growing sense of unease. Aanya stood rooted to the spot, her mind as if went blank. Kunti's innocent confusion only deepened the mystery.

"What is it, Mata?" Arjuna finally spoke, his voice tight with a mixture of concern and anger. "What have you done?"

Kunti's gaze darted between her bewildered sons and the now-motionless Draupadi. A flicker of understanding dawned on her face, slowly morphing into a look of dawning horror. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

"No," she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "No, I couldn't have..."

The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air. Aanya's heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Every instinct screamed at her to intervene, to somehow undo this tangled mess. But the raw emotion swirling around her, anger, disbelief, and a palpable sense of betrayal, held her back, a physical force tethering her to the spot.

Suddenly, Draupadi stepped forward, her chin held high despite the tremor running through her hands. Her dark eyes flashed with unshed tears as she held Kunti's gaze. "Did you just... did you just ask them to share...?" Her voice trailed off, unable to complete the unthinkable question that hung heavy in the air.

Kunti's shoulders slumped, the fabric of her saree crinkling with the weight of a devastating mistake. Her face, etched with despair, mirrored the fracturing joy on the faces around her. "Forgive me," she croaked, her voice thick with regret. "I... I misunderstood. I thought... the alms..."

The realization dawned on them all like a physical blow. The alms. The strange silence before Kunti's pronouncement. It all clicked into place with horrifying clarity.