Sootputra: The Unsung Hero

The Tournament

Shit! I hope it hasn't been long. 

I was running in the alleys of upper levels when I heard the sound of trumpets from the newly constructed stadium. It was standing majestic, touching even the heavens. The people around me were talking about the chariot race that had just finished as I ran past them filtering their gossips. Apparently, Pandav Nakula had won the race and was now being honoured by a garland for it. 

I reached the gates of the stadium. They were huge in width and yet there was so much rush. The whole city, maybe even the whole kingdom was here to see the new princes. The crowds flooded the gates like waves of the ocean and filled the seats. I pushed my way through the crowds to reach a vacant seat on the upper corner when I was stopped by one of the city guards. He looked at me as if I was covered in snot.

"The common citizens and participating soldiers remained to be seated on the lower levels. The Upper ones are for high born and royal blood." The guard said 

Even here? This kingdom hasn't changed a bit in all these ten years. The state of individuals is still decided by their birth.

But no matter, that will change today, I promise. I will change this system.  I took my seat in the lowest congested but nearest section of the stadium grounds. I was too anxious to hold my excitement back. What will be their expressions when they see my arrows?

The royal stand decked with tents and seats engraved with gold leaves and dangling pearls had some familiar faces. King Dhritrashtra and Queen Ghandhari were occupying their seats at the center. Grandfather Bhisma, now my student-brother were sitting to the right of the king. And an unknown middle-aged lady in white silk saree who was unfamiliar was sitting beside Queen Ghandhari. She was fairly old and had no makeup. She was obviously someone important sitting so near to the queen. I didn't know who she was so my attention went right to Guru Drona who was gracing the seat beside Pitama Bhishma along with his ponytailed brother-in-law Kripacharya.

The crowd was cheering as the garland was presented to Nakul by Drona as he approached him in the royal stand. 

"NAKUL IS ONE OF THE BEST RIDERS THERE IS. HIS SPEED IN BATTLE AND ON MOUNT IS UNRIVALLED IN ALL MY STUDENTS.

I AM PROUD TO HAVE THE CHANCE TO TRAIN SUCH A KSHATRIYA," Guru Drona announced for the whole crowd to hear. They went into cheers as he touched his guru's feet and then moved to touch the feet of the woman in a white sari. I was perplexed for a moment.

"Next will be the Gada Yudh" Dronacharya pointed out towards the section where the princes were sitting. Two sections, one of which was so huge and so packed that you can barely make out each individual and another so small that it only could hold six-to-seven people. So these were the grown-up Kauravs and Pandavs. One of the older princes from the kaurav section rose up and at the same time the hulking semi-giant from the Pandavs also jumped in. They both grabbed a gadha from their side and came down on the stadium ground. Though I couldn't recall who the one fighting from Kaurav side was but the one fighting from pandas was definitely Bheema. I had heard about his tales as to how he subdued nagas when he was just a child. It is said that he has the strength of an elephant. The warrior looked strong too.  It was clear from their eyes that they had animosity between them. It wasn't rivalry but a lust for other's blood. 

They struck their Gadha in approval and backed away, surely measuring each other through their eyes. I remembered how I used to do that when I fought Acharya, what a fool. The Kaurav made the first move imbuing his mace with thunder as he rushed forward. Bheem in response imbued his mace with fire and went full too. Each touch of their mace was emanating electricity around. But none of them were ready to back off. It was very similar to how my duels with Acharya went but also very different in the fact though the intent of kill was absent between us, here it radiated like the heat from a forest fire, reaching far and wide. Surely the king had sensed this vibe as even the audience was gasping at each stroke and each dodge performed by the two. After a few minutes, they both were bathing in blood, whose it was didn't matter. The widowed woman sitting beside gandhari had just stood up with her hands on her heart. I figured out in that instant who she was. She was Kunti the mother of the Pandavs, Her worry reflected her feelings, her love for her son.