As the sun rose, its golden rays banished the darkness that had been draped over the entire forest like a thick, shadowy blanket. The morning light painted the canopy with vibrant hues, as if the trees themselves were blooming with joy, their branches swaying to the rhythm of the gentle breeze. Fresh, cool air swept through the woods, bringing with it a sense of tranquility—a deceptive calm before the distant rumble of an approaching storm promised a change in the weather.

Amidst this serene yet charged atmosphere, a solitary figure moved with grace through the underbrush. The man’s silhouette was lean and agile, reminiscent of a panther stealthily prowling for its prey. His footsteps were light and deliberate, barely disturbing the forest floor. In his hands, he wielded a bow crafted with precision and strength, its polished wood gleaming faintly in the dappled sunlight. A quiver of arrows rested securely against his back, each arrow meticulously placed and ready for action.

His charcoal eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the dense foliage for his targets—small objects meticulously hidden throughout the forest by his revered Guru, challenging his skill and focus. Those eyes held a determination that matched the forest’s quiet intensity, reflecting the discipline instilled in him through years of practice.

Suddenly, his gaze locked onto a target nestled between the leaves. His eyes twinkled with satisfaction, a subtle acknowledgment of the challenge met. With practiced precision, he nocked an arrow, pulling back the bowstring with a steady hand until it reached maximum tension. The release was swift, the arrow slicing through the air with a whisper, hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. The sharp point embedded itself in the target's forehead, a testament to his unwavering concentration and skill. A smirk of pride tugged at his lips—another step forward in his training journey.

Content with his accomplishment, he turned away from his handiwork, his ears attuned to the distant sound of running water—a beckoning call of nature’s own tranquility. Making his way toward the gentle babble of a stream, he set down his bow and arrows on the smooth rocks before stepping into the cool embrace of the water, its touch refreshing against his skin after the exertion.

As he submerged himself, the tension of practice and focus began to melt away, carried off by the water’s gentle currents. The forest seemed to pause for a moment, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Then, cutting through the ambient murmur of the woods, came a voice—a voice both familiar and revered.

“Arjun,” it called, carrying with it a warmth and authority that resonated through the trees and into his very being.



His smiling figure emerged gracefully from the glistening, sunlit water, droplets cascading off his sturdy frame; he was none other than Dhananjay Arjun, renowned for his unmatched prowess in archery and revered as a heroic figure among his peers. His long, ebony hair clung to his skin as he shook off the remaining water, embodying a vision of strength and serenity.

From the verdant foliage, another figure appeared, moving with the quiet authority of someone accustomed to leadership. Clad in simple attire, yet noble in his bearing, he carried a spear with the ease of one well-versed in the arts of war. His eyes, wise and understanding, regarded Arjun with a mix of affection and mild disapproval as he shook his head at his younger brother. This man was none other than Yudhisthir, the eldest among the Pandavs, known far and wide for his unwavering commitment to truth and justice. Arjun bowed his head respectfully, acknowledging his elder brother's presence;

Arjun :- Jeysth Bhrata.

He greeted with affection and respect. Yudhisthir, whose tranquil demeanor mirrored a calm ocean unperturbed even by the fiercest of storms, regarded his brother with a gentle gaze. His breath came a bit heavier than usual, a testament to the rigorous training they had just undertaken, but his disposition remained one of serene authority and gracious composure.

Yudhisthir :- Always grow stronger, brother.

He said, with an encouraging nod, his voice firm yet kind, a reminder of the responsibilities they both carried and the journeys yet to be undertaken. Arjun, whose youthful energy seemed boundless, swiftly changed from his wet angvastra and dhoti into dry, comfortable attire, taking care to touch his elder brother's feet as a sign of respect and reverence before addressing him again.

Arjun :- What happened, Jeysth? Have Gurudev called us?

He inquired eagerly, his curiosity piqued, Yudhisthir nodded, recalling the urgency in their revered teacher's messages.

Yudhisthir :- Yes, Arjun, he wants all of us to assemble, for he is going to make an important announcement.

A spark of anticipation lit up Arjun's eyes, echoing a youthful eagerness and readiness to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Arjun :- Why wait then, Jeysth? Let’s hurry!

With those words, he swiftly collected his bow and quiver, his prized possessions and the extensions of his very soul, ready for any challenge or adventure fate had in store for them. Together, the two brothers disappeared into the dense underbrush, their departure marked by the rustling of leaves and the calls of birds high above, the feathered creatures continuing their joyous chorus in the dappled sunlight filtering through the lush canopy. The forest seemed alive with possibilities, a sanctuary of mystery and magic where the breath of legends past lingered, and new tales were about to unfold.



After a leisurely walk through the serene and lush forest, the Yudhisthir and Arjun finally arrived at the sacred and tranquil ashram of their revered Guru Dron. The ashram was nestled among towering trees and surrounded by the soothing sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. As they approached the entrance, they could sense a vibrant energy and subtle hustle permeating the air, as all the brothers were eagerly assembling at the gathering place, their hearts filled with respect and anticipation for their beloved teacher.

As they stepped closer, a muscular figure emerged from the group, striding toward them with a confident and powerful gait. It was Bheem, the mighty second Pandav, known for his unparalleled strength and valor. His eyes sparkled with a warm and joyful glow as he bent down to touch the feet of the eldest brother, Yudhisthir, as a mark of profound respect and brotherly affection. Bheem's face radiated happiness, and his ever-sensitive nose twitched with delight, expertly detecting the mouth-watering aromas of the sumptuous feast being prepared in the ashram's kitchen, his favorite indulgence.

Shortly thereafter, two more figures emerged from the gathering, walking with an air of youthful exuberance and grace. They were the inseparable twins, Nakul and Sahdev, each possessing a unique charm of his own. Nakul, the elder twin, was strikingly handsome, his features perfectly symmetrical and his skin aglow with an almost ethereal beauty. His eyes twinkled mischievously, hinting at the playful pranks he was known for, and his lips curled into a cheeky smile, reflecting his cheerful and lively spirit.

Beside him was Sahdev, the younger of the two, exuding a sense of composure and wisdom beyond his years. His expression was calm and serene, with a subtle yet content smile gracing his lips, as if he had seen the world's mysteries unravel before him. The bond between the brothers was palpable, a testament to their shared experiences and unwavering support for one another, as they gathered at the ashram, ready to learn and grow under their Guru's tutelage.

They approached the place, which was set before a towering and ancient tree, its gnarled branches stretching wide and casting long shadows on the ground. There, they encountered the formidable assembly of 100 Kauravs, with their imposing leader Duryodhan standing at the forefront. The Kauravs formed an unyielding line, their eyes fixed on the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and defiance.

Vikarn and Yuyutsu, although typically opting to maintain a distance from the main group, found themselves drawn by the gravity of the moment. They usually preferred to follow their elder brother from a distance, maintaining a sense of individuality, but the significance of this occasion compelled them to stand united, shoulder to shoulder, anticipation etched on their faces as they awaited the much-anticipated arrival of their Guru, hoping to bask in the sanctity of his presence.

In the moments that followed, a hush settled over the gathering as the faint sound of footsteps approached. The Kauravs turned in unison, their attention fixed on the silhouette of an elderly man advancing steadily towards them, accompanied by another figure at his side. The elder was none other than the esteemed Guru Dronacharya, his stature upright and dignified, and his son Ashwatthama walked closely behind, a silent shadow to his father's presence.

Guru Dron's face, although partially obscured by a thick, flowing white beard, radiated the same unwavering pride and wisdom that he had worn for years. He carried with him an air of authority, his eyes alight with a fierce intelligence that had guided many a warrior on their path to greatness. In contrast, Ashwatthama walked with an air of nonchalant detachment, seemingly indifferent to the grand anticipation surrounding their arrival. He was present, as always, not by choice, but by duty, and his demeanor suggested that he found little personal significance in the gathering. Nonetheless, he dutifully followed his father, his presence marking him as an essential thread in the tapestry of this important encounter.

As Guru Dron stood before the assembly of eager and attentive students, the atmosphere was charged with reverence and anticipation. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers, and the early morning sun cast a warm glow over the gathering. One by one, the students humbly bowed their heads, their voices united in a respectful greeting. The bond between teacher and disciples was evident, forged through years of rigorous training and unwavering dedication.

Dron cleared his throat, his voice carrying both authority and warmth.

Dron :- Ayushman bhava, my dear students. Do any of you have any idea why I have summoned you all here so early in the day?

He began with an affectionate smile. His eyes twinkled with a knowing look as he surveyed the group. The students exchanged puzzled glances, none daring to venture a guess. Collectively, they shook their heads in response. With a deep sense of pride and satisfaction, Dron continued.

Dron :- My dear students, your education is now complete. Soon, you shall return to your families, taking with you the skills and knowledge you have acquired here.

His words filled the assembly with a mix of nostalgia and excitement for the journey ahead. Yudhisthir stepped forward.

Yudhisthir :- Thank you, Gurudev, for your guidance and teachings.

He said, his voice filled with gratitude. Dron nodded in acknowledgment, then addressed the group once more.

Dron :- Before you depart, however, there remains one final challenge. I shall conduct your last test, and it will be witnessed by the people of Hastinapur.

A wave of enthusiasm swept over the students. Duryodhan, with a glint of confidence in his eyes, could not resist a remark.

Duryodhan :- Nice idea. Let all of Hastinapur gaze upon the true warrior among us.

He said with a smirk. Bheem shot a piercing glare at Duryodhan.

Bheem :- They will most certainly witness it, Duryodhan.

He retorted, his voice a low but firm promise. Dron, sensing the tension rising between the two, swiftly intervened.

Dron :- Enough, both of you, focus on your practice; there will be time for rivalry later. Arjun, accompany me to the temple. It is time for you to receive your divyastras, the divine weapons that await you.

He beckoned, turning to his most dedicated student. Arjun's eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation.

Arjun :- Certainly, Gurudev.

He replied eagerly, stepping forward to join his teacher. With a final nod of approval, Dron instructed them.

Dron :- Now, go ahead and start preparing for your journey. Gather your belongings and ready yourselves.

The students dispersed, each heading to their respective tasks with a sense of purpose and anticipation, their hearts brimming with pride, eager to face the world and the challenges it held.



In Hastinapur, a city steeped in history and legend, the intricate corridors of the grand palace serve as a silent witness to the passage of time and the unfolding of countless tales. As the sun casts its golden light through the intricately carved windows, the gentle sound of footsteps reverberates through the vast halls.

An elderly lady, draped in an exquisite saree of pristine white adorned with delicate golden borders, moves with a grace that transcends her years. Her presence commands respect and admiration, and her regal demeanor is unmistakable. Yet, despite her stately appearance, her face reveals a hint of tension, a subtle furrow in her brow that hints at the worries and burdens she carries in her heart.

This venerable figure is none other than Rajmata Kunti, the esteemed matriarch of the Hastinapur royal lineage, and the beloved wife of the late Maharaj Pandu. Her life has been a tapestry woven with the threads of triumph and tribulation. As she walks through the palace that has been her home for many years, memories of the past and uncertainties of the future weigh heavily on her mind. Kunti’s eyes, though aged, still hold the depth and wisdom of a woman who has witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the joys of motherhood, and the heartbreaks of a world filled with power struggles and familial discord.

Her thoughts wander to her children, the Pandavs, whose destinies are as bound to the fortunes of Hastinapur as her own. As Rajmata Kunti walks the familiar path of the palace corridors, the silent walls whisper the sagas of yore, and the air is thick with anticipation of the events that are yet to unfold in the ever-evolving narrative of the great kingdom of Hastinapur.

Kunti hesitated for a brief moment outside the grand chamber, her heart filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Her hand, steady yet gentle, pressed against the elaborate design of the gates, pushing them open to reveal the majestic room within. As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the cool air and the subtle scent of sandalwood that lingered in the large, ornately decorated hall. The soft sound of her footsteps echoed as she crossed the polished marble floor towards the commanding figure seated at the far end.

A man draped in a pristine white angvastra and dhoti sat with an air of earnest solemnity, his posture dignified as he occupied the throne-like chair that symbolized his revered status. His hair, white as snow, marked the wisdom of his years, and his eyes, deeply focused, were locked onto the scroll he held with unwavering intent. There was a serene composure about him, and his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, hinting at a rare, gentle smile. He was none other than the renowned Gangaputra Bhism, the valorous son of the late Maharaj Shantanu, known throughout the land for his unyielding oath and unmatched prowess.

As Kunti approached, the subtle rustle of her garments alerted Bhism, causing him to lift his gaze. His eyes softened as they met hers, radiating a warmth that belied his stern exterior. Rising slightly in his seat, he greeted her with a nod of recognition.

Kunti :- Pranipat tatshree.

She said respectfully, her voice steady yet infused with warmth.

Bhism :- Kalyan ho.

He replied, his blessings rolling off his tongue like a benediction. There was a curious gleam in Kunti's eyes as she observed the perpetual smile that danced on Bhism's lips.

Kunti :- What is the reason for this never-ending smile, tatshree?

She inquired, her curiosity getting the better of her. Bhism's smile broadened, and his eyes twinkled with a rare delight.

Bhism :- It seems the Gods have bestowed some mercy upon Gangaputra Bhism. If I tell you, a similar smile won't be leaving your face too. The education of the princes has been completed, and they will be returning very soon.

He began, his voice resonant with joy. A smile spread across Kunti's face, mirroring the gladness in Bhism’s eyes.

Kunti :- Really, that is truly good news, tatshree. Everyone in the kingdom will be delighted to hear that.

She exclaimed, her voice brimming with genuine happiness. But as quickly as it had appeared, the joy on her face began to fade as she recalled the weighty purpose that had brought her to this chamber. The shadows of her concerns crept back into her expression, and Bhism, ever perceptive, noticed the change. His brow furrowed slightly, and his understanding gaze settled on her with a gentle, unspoken acknowledgment of the burden she carried. His eyes, full of empathy and concern, silently urged her to share the matter that troubled her heart so deeply.

Flashback, five years ago.

Gangaputra Bhism stood by the expansive window of his chamber, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon as he pondered the intricate web of fate and what destiny might have planned for him. The cool breeze whispered through the room, but it did little to soothe the swirling thoughts in his mind. Bhism's heart was heavy with unspoken worries and unfulfilled ambitions for the future of the Kuru dynasty.

His trusted spies, who he had dispatched to track down Vasusen, returned one after the other, their missions fruitless and their reports empty. Each arrival brought a fresh wave of disappointment, further clouding Bhism's mind with uncertainty and concern. Vasusen, aka Karn, didn't just had the potential to be a formidable warrior but also a key piece in the grand chessboard of Hastinapur's politics. Yet, his whereabouts remained an enigma, and Bhism found himself increasingly frustrated by this mystery.

Bhism's desire was to personally instruct Karn in the art of politics, to mold him with his own hands into a leader worthy of a throne. He envisioned teaching him every nuance of governance, every strategic maneuver, every principle required to become a future king. However, with each passing day, his aspirations waned, descending slowly into the abyss of shattered dreams. The knowledge that Dronacharya, the revered teacher, had previously rejected Karn's appeal for guidance struck Bhism like a bitter arrow. Anger simmered within him, yet he found himself powerless to confront Dronacharya directly about the slight.

Faced with these challenges, Bhism shifted his focus towards Yudhishthir, the eldest of the Pandavs. If Karn could not be found, at least Yudhishthir could be nurtured and prepared for the weighty responsibilities of leadership. Bhism was determined that someone under his tutelage would learn the art of kingship, and he resolved to dedicate his efforts to ensuring that Yudhishthir was equipped with the wisdom, patience, and justice needed to rule. In Yudhishthir, Bhism saw hope—a beacon amid the shadows cast by uncertainty—firm in his belief that this was the path forward, even as he continued to mourn what might have been with Karn.

Lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts, Bhism sat in his chamber, staring blankly into the flickering light of the oil lamp. His mind ventured through the corridors of past decisions and future plans, unaware of the passage of time. The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the occasional rustle of the curtains responding to a gentle evening breeze.

Suddenly, the tranquility was interrupted by the creaking sound of the heavy wooden door. A guard entered with a sense of urgency etched on his face. He stood at attention for a moment before speaking, careful not to disturb the contemplative atmosphere more than necessary.

"Mahamahim, I apologize for the intrusion."

The guard addressed Bhism with the utmost respect, bowing slightly. His voice was steady yet carried an undercurrent of urgency.

"A spy, one of your own, has arrived and expresses a dire need to speak with you, claiming that the matter at hand is of significant importance."

Bhism, snapping out of his reverie, nodded with understanding and authority. His voice was calm yet commanding.

"Send him in"

He instructed, recognizing the importance of the message at such a late hour. With a brisk salute, the guard departed. Moments later, Sudarshan, Bhism's most trusted and skilled spy, entered the room. He was a man of nondescript appearance, which served his profession well. Bowing respectfully, he greeted,

Sudarshan :- Hail Mahamahim Bhism.

Bhism :- Sudarshan, what news do you bring?

He acknowledged, his tone conveying both familiarity and expectation. Sudarshan stepped forward with a purposeful stride, knowing the weight of the words he was about to deliver.

Sudarshan :- Mahamahim, the boy you dispatched me to locate has indeed been found. He resides presently at the ashram of Lord Parashuram.

He began, his voice low and confidential. A glimmer of excitement sparked in Bhism's eyes, a rare sight for a man known for his stoic composure.

Bhism :- You are certain of this? Tell me more, what other details have you uncovered?

He queried, leaning forward, his interest piqued. Sudarshan paused for a moment, catching his breath before continuing,

Sudarshan :- I'm truly sorry, Mahamahim. A formidable spiritual shield envelops the ashram and its surrounding areas, an enigmatic barrier through which no threat or spy can pass undetected. I happened to witness something quite extraordinary: the young boy was meditating within this serene fortress. A radiant golden light shimmered around his figure, illuminating the dark forest in an ethereal glow. As much as I wished to approach, the formidable shield kept me at bay, preventing any closer investigation.

Bhism listened intently, his eyes glinting with interest.

Bhism :- That's to be expected with such powerful forces at play. You've brought me news today that I've been yearning for, for many long years. Your efforts won't go unrewarded.

He finally remarked, nodding in understanding. With a decisive motion, Bhism slipped a precious diamond ring from his finger and handed it to the spy, the jewel catching the fading light of the day.

Bhism :- Listen to me very carefully. You must leave your home with your family at once. Find shelter where you can remain hidden and ensure that no one else becomes privy to this secret. It is of utmost importance.

He continued, his tone both commanding and urgent. Sudarshan nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his task.

Sudarshan :- As you say, my lord. I give you my word that this secret shall remain solely with me and will accompany me to the grave.

He vowed with conviction. With those final words, Sudarshan bowed deeply in respect before departing swiftly. Bhism lingered, watching him go before turning his gaze towards the horizon. The evening sun bathed the landscape in a warm glow, and a rare smile graced his lips, a reflection of contentment and the fulfillment of long-held aspirations.

Back to Present,

Bhism smiled gently at Kunti, his voice calm yet reassuring.

Bhism :- Don't worry, Kunti. If he is with the eminent Guru Parsuram, there is no doubt that he will receive all the teachings and skills necessary to prepare him for the future. Guru Parsuram's knowledge is boundless, and his tutelage will shape him into a formidable and wise person.

He began, trying to ease her troubled mind. Yet, Kunti's mind was not at ease. She carried the weight of concern for her loved one's uncertain journey.

Kunti :- But what have you thought about the future, Tatshree? Will he return on his own, or do you plan to bring him back? What if he doesn't come back, or something keeps him away?

She queried, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and worry. Bhism considered her words thoughtfully, and then his gaze softened as he replied,

Bhism :- Let the future unveil itself in its own time, Kunti. Life unfolds in mysterious ways, and sometimes, all we can do is trust in the divine plan laid out by the almighty. If destiny has willed for him to be here, he will undoubtedly return at the right moment. However, until that moment arrives, we must prepare and ensure his path is free of obstacles.

He paused, knowing well the intricacies of the palace politics they were surrounded by.

Bhism :- One of the greatest challenges we face is Shakuni. His cunning nature and ability to manipulate those around him are well-known, and he will surely try to sway Dhritarashtra into making poor decisions. Therefore, it is imperative that the truth comes to light at the appropriate time and in the right manner, so that we may prevent any unfortunate events from taking place.

As he finished, Bhism exhaled deeply, his commitment to safeguarding the future unwavering. Kunti, feeling somewhat reassured, nodded, understanding that patience and vigilance were their strongest allies in the uncertain times ahead. They both knew that they had to stay vigilant and proactive to navigate the turbulent waters of fate that lay ahead, with hope and caution as their guiding stars.

Kunti sat deep in thought, her eyes searching for answers in Bhism's composed demeanor. She whispered softly,

Kunti :- Tatshree, I implore you.

Bhism, with a thoughtful countenance, pondered her request.

Bhism :- Hmmm...

He mused, weighing the consequences of revealing such a secret. Kunti, sensing the hesitation, pressed on.

Kunti :- Can you at least tell me his identity? You've mentioned that he is being taught by Bhagwan Parshuram, yet I do not even know how he appears. It feels like knowing a shadow rather than a person.

Bhism exhaled, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. It was clear this information was closely guarded.

Bhism :- Alright, but you must promise not to disclose this to anyone until I give you permission.

Kunti nodded earnestly, her resolve firm.

Kunti :- You can be sure of that, Tatshree. My lips will be sealed.

With a nod of understanding, Bhism revealed the truth.

Bhism :- His name is Vasusen. He is the eldest son of my charioteer, Adhirath.

A warm smile spread across Kunti's face, gratitude shining in her eyes.

Kunti :- Thank you, Tatshree. Your trust means the world to me.

Bhism nodded, acknowledging the bond of trust between them.

Bhism :- Let us leave now. We have to inform the others about the arrival of the princes. Much preparation awaits, and time is of the essence.

With a shared understanding, they both turned to go, leaving the private chamber behind. The corridors echoed with their footsteps as they walked side by side, united in purpose and secret.



After some time had passed, a gathering took place in a grand room adorned with intricate tapestries and lit by the warm glow of oil lamps. It was a significant occasion, as the family's most esteemed elders had come together to discuss a matter of great importance. Bhism sat at the head of the assembly. Beside him was Dhritrashtra, the king, whose sightless eyes belied the depth of his thoughts. Shakuni, ever cunning and strategic, listened intently, while Vidur's astute observations added a layer of prudence to the conversation. Gandhari, the queen mother, and Kunti exchanged hopeful glances, each pondering the future of their children. Dushala, the youngest, who often provided a fresh perspective, eyed her elders with a sense of anticipation.

The topic of discussion was the much-anticipated arrival of the princes, who had been away for a considerable time, honing their skills and receiving an education befitting of their royal lineage. The air was charged with a mixture of excitement and expectation, as each person contemplated the next chapter in the dynasty's story.

Dhritrashtra's voice resonated with paternal pride as he exclaimed,

Dhritrashtra's :- Excellent news, Tatshree! Our sons are soon to return home. It feels like a lifetime since they left, and I can only imagine how much they have grown... into formidable warriors capable of leading and protecting our realm.

Gandhari's face softened into a gentle smile, her voice tinged with emotion as she added,

Gandhari :- Finally, after so many long years of waiting, this grand palace will once again resonate with the joyous sounds and vibrant echoes of our beloved children. The laughter, the youthful debates, and the lively spirit they bring will fill our halls with renewed life.

It was a moment filled with the promise of what was to come, the return of the princes marking the beginning of a new era for their dynasty.

Vidur leaned back in his chair, deep in contemplation as he gazed out of the window at the sprawling expanse of Hastinapur below.

Vidur :- Bhabishree, it’s hard to believe it has already been ten years. The children, who used to fill these halls with their playful laughter, are not kids anymore. They’re growing into young adults, preparing to take on responsibilities and challenges.

He said gently, turning his attention back to the room. Gandhari, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and fondness, replied softly,

Gandhari :- So what, Vidur? No matter how many years go by or how old they grow, they will always be children in my eyes. A mother’s love doesn’t change with age.

Her voice echoed with a quiet determination and tenderness that filled the room with warmth. Shakuni interjected with a subtle excitement in his voice,

Shakuni :- And let’s not forget the people of Hastinapur, who are eagerly anticipating the day they will finally see their Yuvraj crowned as the future king. The air is thick with anticipation.

His eyes gleamed with a cunning that was characteristic of him, betraying his thoughts that were always a few steps ahead.

Bhism sighed heavily, his expression reflecting a blend of worry and wisdom.

Bhism :- There’s still some time left for that, Gandhar Naresh.

He said in a measured tone, caution interlaced with hope. He understood the complexities of leadership and the weight of the crown. Shakuni merely smirked, an enigmatic expression that left others wondering about the intricacies of his plans. Dushala was practically bouncing with excitement.

Dushala :- Mata, can I invite my sakhis to the celebration?

She said, addressing Queen Gandhari, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Gandhari looked up, a bit surprised.

Gandhari :- What is this about, Dushala?

Dushala hastened to explain,

Dushala :- Woh mata, after so many years, all my brothers will be returning home. It is such a rare and joyful occasion! Moreover, Acharya Drona has planned to organize a grand Kala Pradarshan to test their abilities and showcase their skills. The entire palace will be brimming with festivities. There will be celebrations everywhere, and it occurs to me that we could even invite princes from other kingdoms as a gesture of goodwill and perhaps as a step towards peace negotiations with our allies.

Kunti chimed in with a twinkle in her eye,

Kunti :- Not a bad idea, Dushala. But let me give you a piece of advice—keep your sakhis at a respectable distance from your brothers. We wouldn’t want to become grandparents before our time.

The room burst into warm, hearty laughter, the sound echoing off the palace walls and adding to the atmosphere of jubilance that was already beginning to stir.

Dhritrashtra nodded in agreement.

Dhritrashtra Very well, putri. You may invite your sakhis to join in on the festivities. Let them be a part of our celebration.

Kunti added another suggestion, her mind always thinking of the family’s connections and obligations.

Kunti :- And one more thing, Dushala. Please send a special invitation to Dwarika on my behalf. It is important that they are included in this grand occasion.

Dushala nodded eagerly, her mind already buzzing with the preparations.

Dushala :- Ok, Kakishree.

She replied, ready to take on the joyful task of connecting friends and family from across the lands.



Did you like the chapter ?

Guys, whom do you want in lead role with Krishna ? Karn or Arjun ?

I will set Karn's story of previous birth accordingly.

Do comment if you have any suggestions.