Today's morning in Hastinapur was characterized by bustling activity, especially at the royal palace. The palace grounds were a flurry of sights and sounds, as servants and attendants hurried about, adorning every available surface with vibrant flowers and colorful decorations in anticipation of the impending arrival of the princes. Excitement and anticipation hung in the air like the sweet scent of jasmine that enveloped the gardens.

Inside the palace, Jhanvi emerged from the bathroom, her hair shimmering and damp as she carefully dried it with a soft towel. Meanwhile, her younger sister Subhadra was fussing over her attire, her fingers deftly arranging the fabric of her dress with the zeal of someone eagerly awaiting a special occasion. Subhadra turned to Jhanvi, her brow furrowed with confusion.

Subhadra :- You're late, Jiji. You should've been ready by now. The princes could arrive at any moment.

She chided, her tone a mixture of chagrin and excitement. Jhanvi, in the midst of selecting her outfit, rolled her eyes playfully and replied,

Jhanvi :- I know, but why are you so excited about their arrival? Don’t tell me you’re planning to impress one of them.

With a slight blush tinting her cheeks, Subhadra shook her head fervently.

Subhadra :- It's nothing like that, okay? Besides, I don't know any of them personally in a long time. And who knows how much they've changed? Now stop with your silly teasing and get on with dressing!

Jhanvi :- Okay, okay.

She laughed, relenting as she picked up her dress and retreated to her chamber to change. After a brief while, she returned, resplendent in her chosen attire, standing before the mirror as she adorned herself with her jewelry. Once both sisters were ready, they made their way out into the hallway, their lively conversation echoing softly against the ornate walls. Jhanvi nudged Subhadra teasingly.

Jhanvi :- What if one of the princes turns out to be really handsome, Subhadra? Would you change your mind then?

Subhadra shot her sister a sidelong glance, her lips curved in a wry smile.

Subhadra :- That scenario could tempt you as well, jiji.

Jhanvi :- Not likely. I doubt any prince here would be worth such thoughts.

She replied with a dismissive wave, Their footsteps carried them down the corridor until they encountered another figure. A young woman, regal yet approachable, turned to greet them with a warm smile. It was Pallavi, the princess of Koshal, her presence adding yet another layer of anticipation to the morning. Subhadra called out to her,

Subhadra :- Why are you just standing here, Pallavi? Won't you join us outside?

Pallavi, managing a soft laugh, replied,

Pallavi :- I was just heading there, actually. Seems I'm a bit late myself today.

Jhanvi :- Well, at least we're fashionably late together.

She interjected with a grin, nudging Subhadra, who promptly retorted,

Subhadra :- Speak for yourself, Jiji. I was on time!

Jhanvi :- Whatever.

She shrugged, feigning indifference. Their shared laughter filled the corridor. The trio continued on their path, navigating through the maze of nobility and servants, until they finally reached the palace entrance. Outside, the gathered crowd buzzed with anticipation, everyone eager and ready to welcome the princes.



Kunti, Bhism, Vidur, Dhritrashtra, and Gandhari were anxiously waiting in the grand courtyard, their hearts pulsing with anticipation. The air was thick with tension and hope, as they awaited the arrival of the children who had been absent for so many years. Shakuni, the ever-scheming mastermind, sat with one of his eyes closed in contemplation, his mind racing with thoughts and strategies. He pondered deeply, his shrewd mind concocting plans to drive a wedge between the cousins. He was bent on ensuring that the Pandvas would not overshadow his beloved nephew Duryodhan, laying out a mental blueprint to diminish the stature of the Pandavs.

Gandhari stood beside her husband, Dhritrashtra, her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The thought of finally meeting her sons filled her with joy, causing her usually restrained demeanor to soften. Her face was a canvas of curiosity, excitement, and love, as she eagerly awaited the return of her sons from their years of training under the sage guidance of Dronacharya.

Kunti and Vidur, witnessing her elation, exchanged a soft chuckle at the sight of Gandhari's unusually animated expression. It was rare to see the queen so visibly delighted. Vidur remarked,

Vidur :- Bhabhishree, I've never seen you this happy in a long time.

Gandhari's response was filled with a tender longing,

Gandhari :- I know, Vidur. But I can't stop thinking about how much they would've grown up. They set out as boys, and now they return as men.

Kunti, standing beside her, smiled warmly and added,

Kunti :- I see, Jiji. It's a moment we've all been waiting for.

Their conversation was interrupted by the resonant blare of the conch shell, signaling the arrival of the long-awaited princes. The ground vibrated with the rhythmic thundering of hooves, filling the courtyard with a palpable excitement. All eyes turned towards the entrance, where a procession of chariots appeared, each carrying the promise of a new dawn.

Leading the procession was a magnificent chariot, elegantly designed and pulled by two majestic stallions—one black and one brown. Atop it stood the esteemed Dronacharya, the revered guru, alongside his immensely talented son, Ashwatthama. They were the first to arrive, their presence commanding respect and awe from the waiting elders.

Following closely behind, a vibrant spectacle unfolded as 100 chariots of varying hues emerged, each one transporting the Kauravs. The anticipation reached its peak as everyone strained to catch a glimpse of the princes, returning home after years of rigorous training.

Finally, the sight of five immaculate white chariots signaled the arrival of the Pandavs. Their arrival was nothing short of divine, each prince exuding an aura of majesty and grace. The five brothers, Yudhisthir, Bheem, Arjun, Nakul, and Sahadev, seemed to shine with an inner light, their presence drawing admiration from all those gathered.

As they disembarked, all the princes—Kauravs and Pandavs alike—approached the elders with reverence, bowing in respect. Their gestures were filled with warmth and humility, bridging the gap of years with familial love and respect. The courtyard, once filled with anxious anticipation, was now alive with the buzz of greetings and heartfelt reunions.

Dron walked with purpose towards Bhism. Upon reaching, Bhism respectfully joined his hands in a traditional greeting, his gestures embodying the reverence he felt for the sage. In response, Dron acknowledged him with a gentle nod, his eyes filled with kindness, and raised his hands to offer blessings.

With a voice that carried both gratitude and pride, Dron addressed Bhism, the one who had entrusted him with a monumental task so many years ago.

Dron :- Mahamahim Bhism, a decade ago, you placed the immense responsibility of shaping the young minds and spirits of the Kuru princes into my hands. Today, I stand before you to return not just those young boys, but a troop of formidable warriors, honed to perfection, ready to conquer both earth and heaven. These young men have been molded for greatness. Among them, some have mastered the art of wielding maces with power and precision, while some have become deadly in the art of the sword. There are those who carry a dangerous composure when armed with spears and axes, moving seamlessly across the battlefield. Others have emerged as masters of the bow, striking from afar with unerring accuracy. But amidst this impressive assembly, one stands out...

His voice trailed off momentarily as he gestured towards his most devoted disciple, Arjun. With clear pride and a hint of affection, Dron continued, signaling towards the young warrior.

Dron :- This young man, Arjun, shines above the rest. With a bow in his hand, he is unparalleled, possessing the prowess and skill that could one day even surpass my own in battle.

He declared, his admiration for Arjun evident to all who listened. Bhism, observing the dedication and progress made under Dron’s diligent guidance, nodded appreciably, his smile tinged with gratitude.

Bhism :- Hastinapur shall forever remain indebted to you, beloved Acharya. Our young generation, under your nurturing and expert tutelage, has truly been blessed to have a teacher like you.

As their dialogue concluded, the solemn yet warm mood was uplifted by Gandhari’s presence. She stepped forward gracefully, adorned in her royal attire. With reverence, she performed the aarti ceremony for all the princes. As she completed the ceremony, she embraced Duryodhan with motherly affection, patting his head tenderly, before turning to Yudhisthir. When he bent down to touch her feet in respect, she blessed him earnestly, her heart filled with hope for his reign.

Nearby, Subhadra stood alongside Jhanvi, her gaze fixed on the assembled princes. Her eyes lingered on Arjun, who stood quietly beside Sahdev. He carried a great bow, its presence matching the formidable strength that lay within him. Dressed in a gleaming silver armour and a pristine white dhoti, Arjun cut a striking figure. Subhadra's eyes moved from his intense gaze to his confident stance, taking in the charismatic aura that surrounded him.

Arjun felt a sensation prickling at the back of his neck, a sign that someone's gaze was fixed intently on him. He casually scanned the surrounding, his eyes meticulously sweeping from one corner to another, until they landed on a pair of deep, black eyes observing him with an intensity that made his heart skip a beat.

Caught in his gaze, Subhadra's face flushed a deep crimson as she hurriedly turned her head away, hoping to mask her embarrassment and the unwelcome curiosity that had overtaken her. Yet, their brief exchange did not escape the vigilant eyes of Jhanvi, who stood nearby, taking in the scene with an amused smirk playing on her lips. Leaning closer to her younger sister, Jhanvi couldn't help but tease, her voice laden with playfulness as she said,

Jhanvi :- Have you changed your mind, little sister? It seems like there's more than meets the eye with you and Arjun.

Subhadra, unable to hide the annoyance in her voice and still flustered from the unexpected encounter, shot back,

Subhadra :- Oh, shut up, jiji. It's nothing like that!

Her words were sharp but tinged with a hint of uncertainty that her older sister was quick to notice.

The Pandavs, eager and respectful, approached Dhritrashtra and Gandhari to seek their blessings before entering the palace. As they bowed deeply in reverence, Dhritrashtra, with a voice full of affection and authority, bestowed his blessings,

Dhritrashtra :- Ayushman bhava, my children. May you live a long and prosperous life.

Gandhari, ever the protective mother figure, followed with her own heartfelt blessing,

Gandhari :- Yashasvi bhava, sons. May success and honor always accompany you.

With a sense of warmth and familial obligation, the Pandavs then made their way to Bhism. Bowing low, they touched his feet, an act of deep respect. Bhism, his face lined with a mix of pride and joy, said,

Bhism :- Always be strong and blessed. It's such a happy moment that you all have returned. Always stay blessed.

His words, full of gratitude for their safe return and hopes for their future, lingered in the air. Vidur, ever the wise and loving uncle, gestured for the group to come together for a collective embrace. The warmth of family enveloped them.

Finally, with anticipation, they approached their mother, Kunti. As they knelt to touch her feet, Kunti’s heart swelled with emotion. Meeting them after so many long years, she hugged each one tightly, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. She blessed them fervently, taking in the sight of their matured and handsome faces.

Reluctantly breaking the embrace, Kunti gestured for her sons to enter the palace, where memories of their childhood awaited. As they began to move, Nakul's attention was caught by the sight of Jhanvi, standing at a distance. The morning sun cast a beautiful glow on her face, enhancing her features with a radiant light. Intrigued, Nakul approached her and greeted her politely,

Nakul :- Pranipat.

Jhanvi, with a sweet smile and respectful demeanor, joined her hands and replied,

Jhanvi : Pranipat, bhrata Nakul.

Her words, formal yet familiar, brought a ripple of laughter from Bheem and Arjun, while Sahdev chuckled, amused by the exchange, and Yudhisthir offered a knowing smile. Nakul, however, merely looked mildly annoyed.

Sensing Nakul's curiosity and amusement at the old game they all seemed to be playing, Jhanvi added with a teasing note in her voice,

Jhanvi :- Bhrata Nakul, if you'll excuse me, I can go in. You can stay here if you want.

Her playful dismissal, tinged with affection, left Nakul wary as he watched her retreat, puzzled and amused. Perplexed, Nakul turned to his mother, Kunti, seeking clarity.

Nakul :- Who is she?

He asked. Kunti, amused by her son's forgetfulness, reminded him gently,

Kunti :- Don't you remember her? She is the girl you used to play hide and seek with.

A deeper connection sparked in Nakul's memory. Bheem, not missing a chance to tease, added with a chuckle,

Bheem :- Jhanvi? Oh, she is the daughter of Vasudev Mama.

The mention brought a fresh round of teasing laughter from the brothers, lightening the atmosphere. With a smile, Kunti urged them all,

Kunti :- Enough joking, now come inside.

Heeding her call, the brothers stepped through the palace gates, their laughter and camaraderie echoing softly. The sun continued its ascent in the sky, heralding a new day filled with promise of shared adventures yet to unfold.



Late in the evening, as the last hues of daylight faded into the embrace of the night, the grandeur of Bhism's chamber was bathed in a soft, melancholic glow. The renowned warrior, Gangaputra Bhism, stood silently near the wide window, his deep, contemplative eyes gazing out at the vast expanse beyond.

A storm of thoughts churned in his mind, a crucial crossroads lay before him, and every possible path seemed fraught with peril. The revelation he was considering would surely incite significant complications within the Kuru family. The cunning Shakuni crouched like a hawk beside the blind king Dhritrashtra, ever ready to seize any opportunity that might tip the scales in his favor or add chaos to the already intricate web of politics.

Bhism closed his eyes briefly, yearning for wisdom as he weighed his options. His mind was entangled in a web of duty and foresight when the routine creak of the chamber doors interrupted his reverie. A worn guard, loyal and steadfast, appeared hesitantly at the entrance, breaking the heavy silence.

"Forgive the disturbance, Mahamahim, but a priest has arrived seeking an audience with you."

The guard said with a deferential bow. Bhism turned slightly, acknowledging the message with a composed expression.

Bhism :- Inform him to wait in the main hall. I shall join him in a few moments.

He replied with calm authority, every syllable reflecting his unwavering resolve.

"As you wish, Mahamahim,"

The guard responded, retreating with quiet steps. Left to the solitude of his thoughts, Bhism cast a long gaze toward the horizon, where the sun was making its dignified descent. Its departure painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, a majestic yet poignant reminder of the passage of time and the cyclical nature of all things. With a weary sigh, Bhism implored silently,

Bhism :- Help me, Suryadev. Guide your son back to where he truly belongs.

Resolute, Bhism turned back into his chamber. He picked up a scroll, feeling the weight of its contents. He adjusted his angvastra, ensuring it draped perfectly over his shoulder, emblematic of his esteemed position and responsibility. His hands moved to set his crown upon his head.

Having armored himself in these tokens of his past victories and present burdens, Bhism walked with a purposeful stride towards the hall, where the priest awaited.

As he stepped into the grand hall, the vastness of the room was overshadowed by the sight of the Priest, who was anxiously pacing back and forth. As he caught sight of Bhism, his face softened, and he moved swiftly to stand before him, offering a respectful greeting. Bhism, with his grace, gestured towards a chair, inviting the Priest to sit and speak his mind.

Bhism :- Tell me, oh learned Brahmin, what brings you to my presence today? How can I serve and assist you in your time of need?

The Priest replied with a heavy heart,

Priest :- Noble Mahamahim, I have journeyed here seeking justice for a grievous wrong that has been committed against me.

His voice quivered slightly with unspoken pain and anger. Bhism, with a furrowed brow, questioned,

Bhism :- What injustice has dared to beset a Brahmin within the safe confines of Hastinapur?

His voice carried a tinge of disbelief, for in this city, such transgressions were rare and not tolerated. The Priest leaned forward and recounted his tale, weaving a narrative that was steeped in carefully crafted half-truths. In his mind, the thirst for revenge had clouded his judgment, and all he yearned for was to witness the downfall of the man he accused—to see him suffer and be punished.

Bhism :- And who is this man you accuse?

The Priest, with a flash of vindication in his eyes, responded,

Priest :- He is the eldest son of your charioteer, Adhirath.

Bhism's expression underwent a subtle transformation. There was a spark of hope and curiosity gleaming in his eyes—an unexpected reaction that caught the Priest off guard. For Bhism knew of Adhirath's eldest son, a man named Vasusen, and this revelation kindled something profound within him. With an eager tone, Bhism asked,

Bhism :- Are you certain? He is Adhirath's eldest son, Vasusen?

The Priest, puzzled by Bhism's unexpected excitement, affirmed,

Priest :- Yes, Mahamahim, he is indeed Vasusen.

Bhism quickly reined in his emotions, standing up with determination. His voice was steady and commanding as he declared,

Bhism :- Let us go and meet him at once. I too am keen to see the man who has brought dishonor to a Brahmin within Hastinapur's revered limits.

The Priest followed closely, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty swirling within him.

As they were about to leave the grand hall, Yudhisthir entered. The room was still, with only the rustle of the spectators’ whispers filling the silence. Bhism looked up at Yudhisthir with a quizzical expression etched upon his wise and weathered face.

Bhism :- Yudhisthir, my son. What brings you here? Is there something you require?

He inquired gently, his voice carrying a warmth. Yudhisthir responded with a gracious smile. He shook his head softly, his eyes twinkling with affection.

Yudhisthir :- No, Pitamah, I just wanted to spend some time with you. Perhaps in your company, I might learn something invaluable, some wisdom that might aid us in the trials ahead.

He replied humbly, his words as measured and thoughtful as ever. At this, Bhism's heart warmed. He placed a hand upon Yudhisthir's head in affection.

Bhism :- Yudhisthir, you have just returned from Gurukul today. You should enjoy some light-hearted moments with your brothers for now. As for me, I have some matters to attend to. We shall converse at length later.

He advised, his tone both loving and commanding. Understanding and obedient, Yudhisthir nodded. He then turned, his steps calm and steady as he left the hall in search of his brothers. Bhism, having exchanged a silent farewell, proceeded with the priest by his side. Their path took them out of the palace towards the bustling gates.

As they approached the gateway of the mighty palace, they encountered Adhirath, who was preparing to return to his workshop. Upon seeing them, Adhirath greeted Bhism and the priest with due reverence and familiarity. Bhism addressed him with the warmth.

Bhism :- Adhirath, you failed to tell me that your son has returned.

He began, the hint of rebuke masked by his gentle tone. Adhirath raised an eyebrow in slight surprise, acknowledging the unspoken reprimand in Bhism's words.

Adhirath :- Mahamahim, he returned just yesterday. I intended to bring him to you for a formal introduction, but he was adamant about assisting at the workshop. So I left him there to do as he wished.

He responded respectfully, inclining his head slightly. The priest, whose eyes had been following the exchange closely, now fixed Adhirath with a stern gaze.

Priest :- Your son has been back for only a day, and already the tales of his mischiefs have reached us. Are you aware of his activities?

He intoned, a note of reprimand in his voice. Bhism shared a knowing look with the priest, and then proceeded to explain a particular incident that had come to their notice. Adhirath's face registered a mixture of faint amusement and exasperated concern as he listened, realizing the youthful exuberance of his son had once again stirred unforeseen complications.

Apologetic, Adhirath began to express his regret on behalf of his son, although he knew that even if presented with an opportunity, Karn would be reluctant to offer apologies, his nature too proud and unyielding.

Bhism :- Adhirath, we desire to meet your son now. Let us visit your home.

He interrupted gently but firmly. Adhirath sighed internally, understanding the futility of attempting to curb his son's enthusiastic defiance. Yet, he acknowledged the gravity of the request with a nod. Together, the three men exited the palace grounds.

As all three of them made their way to Adhirath's workshop, the clang of metal on metal resonated through the place. Karn was deeply engrossed in his work, hammering away at a thick, red-hot rod in an effort to straighten it. Adhirath approached him, his face a storm of anger and disappointment.

Adhirath :- Vasu!

He called out, the name ringing sharply through the workshop. Karn paused in his work, wiping the sweat from his brow, and finally looked up to see his father standing with fury etched in his face. With a sigh, Karn stood up, his muscles tight and aching from the labor.

Karn :- What happened, Pitashree? Why are you...

He began, but his voice trailed off as his gaze settled on the Priest. He sighed again, understanding the silent accusation in their eyes.

Karn :- Yes, I beat the village head and his men, and stopped the useless trial.

He admitted, his tone unapologetic, almost defiant. Adhirath stepped forward, disbelief mixed with frustration painted on his features.

Adhirath :- Are you even in your senses? Do you know what you've done? You argued with a learned Priest in front of the whole village! You beat the village head so badly that now he is in a coma. What do you think you would gain from all this?

Karn interjected, his voice resolute,

Karn :- Satisfaction. I get an immense amount of satisfaction from standing up to people like these—those who don't deserve to tread the same earth as the rest of us, those who are merely a burden on this world.

Adhirath's eyes flashed as he tried to make Karn see reason.

Adhirath :- A burden on earth? And what about that boy, who spat in his well so that the water could not be used for offerings in the temple?

Karn's brow furrowed as he turned to Adhirath, then shot a piercing look at the Priest.

Karn :- Wait, wait, wait... What did you say? Spat? When did that boy supposedly spit in your well? I think he just drank a cup of water because he was thirsty.

A wave of nervousness washed over the Priest, causing him to avert his eyes. Karn's voice rose, filled with contempt and righteousness.

Karn :- Don't you feel ashamed, calling yourself a Priest? People like you are a disgrace to humankind. You wanted to beat up a five-year-old kid with an iron rod just because he drank some water from your well.

His voice softened as he turned to his father, but the intensity of his words did not diminish.

Karn :- Tell me, Pitashree, how would the life of that child have been after being beaten brutally with an iron rod? And what if it were your life, reduced to a burden on your family because some injustice left you without hands or legs, living on the mercy of this world? Can you even fathom the agony of a mother watching her child nearly beaten to death before her own eyes, all for the crime of quenching his thirst?

The Priest, now fully grasping the weight of his actions, lowered his head in deep embarrassment. Adhirath was silent, astonished by the conviction in his son's voice. Karn turned to the Priest, his voice firm yet composed.

Karn :- Brahmin, you possess the knowledge of the Vedas and Shastras far beyond us common folk. Tell me, was it that boy's fault he was born into a lower caste? Shouldn't everyone have equal rights to resources? We are all human; we all need food to survive, water to quench our thirst, and shelter to protect us from the elements.

He walked toward his father, his steps deliberate and filled with purpose.

Karn :- And if any such injustice occurs before my eyes, I will not turn away. I will raise my voice, I will protest, and if necessary, I will wield my weapons. No one can deter me. I am no longer that useless boy who was bullied and insulted by others. I am a warrior, and I fear nothing and no one.

With those final words, Karn picked up his angvastra, draping it over his shoulder, and strode out of the workshop, leaving behind a father grappling with the words.

As Karn made his way along the dusty path, he stumbled upon Bhism, who was standing quietly near the grand chariot, eavesdropping on a conversation. Karn, with a deep bow and a voice brimming with respect, said,

Karn :- Pranipat Mahamahim Bhism.

Bhism, an emblem of wisdom and valor, turned his gaze towards Karn, his eldest grandnephew. The sight of Karn, with his well-built, muscular frame and the familiar glow that adorned his face as it did years ago, brought a sense of pride to Bhism's heart. The glinting kundals dangling from Karn's ears added to the majestic aura of his handsome figure. Bhism felt a wave of relief and immense pride in realizing that the future of Hastinapur would indeed be safe in the capable hands of Karn, who was an exceptional warrior, and one trained by the illustrious Parshuram. Bhism took a step closer to Karn, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a gesture filled with warmth and encouragement.

Bhism :- Well said, son. Only a true warrior could claim that he would never bow his head before any injustice to the people.

Karn, with humility responded,

Karn :- I was taught by the same revered teacher who once guided you. Furthermore, I only acted upon what felt right at that moment. I apologize if my actions have been unacceptable.

Bhism remarked with a hint of nostalgia,

Bhism :- You have surely grown up. The last time I saw you, you were merely a 14-year-old child, boasting about your archery skills.

Karn, recognizing the passage of time and its power, replied,

Karn :- Time has the ability to change everything, Mahamahim. I should take my leave now, as Radha Ma must be waiting for me.

With that, Karn clasped his hands together in farewell and took his leave. Bhism stood silently, watching Karn’s figure fade into the horizon. It was then that he noticed Adhirath and a Priest, standing nearby with their heads bowed in slight embarrassment. Adhirath, attempting to make amends, said,

Adhirath :- I apologize for my son's behavior, Mahamahim. Even though he is grown up, he never heeds my advice and frequently acts upon his own impulses.

Bhism :- There is no need to apologize; your son has already done that.

Adhirath was taken aback upon hearing this; the idea of Karn apologizing was unexpected. Bhism continued,

Bhism :- It is the open-minded individuals who drive the evolution of society. It only takes a handful of us to adhere blindly to rigid rules and create chaos. Allow him his freedom, and one day, he shall bring you great pride.

Adhirath, moved by Bhism's words, glanced towards the road where his son had vanished just moments prior. In a gentler tone, Bhism inquired,

Bhism :- Tell me more about your son, Adhirath. Did he ever speak of his days at the gurukul and his training?

Adhirath proceeded to recount the stories he had heard from Karn about his tales. As Bhism listened, his face broke into a smile, and he even chuckled at the story of Karn bravely standing against Indra, the mighty King of the Gods. The tales assuaged any lingering doubts Bhism had about Karn's education and training, leaving him with a sense of relief and satisfaction.

Soon after, Adhirath drove Bhism back towards the palace. Little did they know, an unseen figure had been secretly listening to their entire conversation, seething with envy and silently retreating into the depths of the woods, driven by thoughts clouded in mystery.

Amrit reached a place surrounded by trees, he looked around to confirm no one else was present. He then held a tree's trunk and released the negative energy of anger stored inside him. Within seconds, tree was reduced to ashes and fell down. Amrit sat on a rock breathing heavily, his father's talk with Bhism was reeling in his mind.

Amrit :- (groans) No matter what he does, he will always get the appreciation. Here I am, getting cursed, that too, for doing nothing.

Flashback, Amrit was walking between trees, practising blindfold archery, his left hand gripped the bow while right hand held the arrow, ready to shoot any second. His ears registered a faint sound, next moment, he raised his bow and placed the arrow. Pulling the string he released his shot and smirked, sure about hitting the target.

He came out from bushes but the sight in front of him shocked him to the core.

His arrow struck a calf, who was trapped in a muddy pond, screaming in pain. While he was thinking what to do, a brahmin came up and saw the calf slowly dying while Amrit just stood there with his bow, watching it. He was enraged and approached Amrit angrily.

Brahmin :- Do you know what have you done warrior.

Amrit :- I'm sorry brahmin dev, I didn't do it intensionally. My arrow hit this calf by mistake, I sincerely apologise.

Brahmin :- Whether intensionally or not, but result is same your arrow killed my calf, my cow there is crying because her calf here is lying dead. Can't that mother even curse you ?

Amrit :- Please don't curse me brahmin dev, please don't curse me.

Brahmin :- You return calf to my cow and I will just go.

Amrit lowered his head.

Brahmin :- Maharathi, I curse you, the way my calf died, helpless, unable to defend itself, you will die the same way on battlefield. At the moment of most crucial fight of your life, earth will swallow the wheel of your chariot. Clouds of fear will surround you and engulf you in the arms of death.



Saying so, he angrily went away, while Amrit just stood there thinking about his fate. ------------ Present, After sometime, Amrit glanced up to see the sky turning black, he stood up and slowly walked towards his home.

Bhisma reached the palace and walked straight towards Kunti's chamber. He told the guard to inform her about his arrival, on entering he saw his grand nephews having fun sharing stories about their training days. They stood up as he entered.

Kunti :- What happened tatshree ? You here, all of a sudden.

Bhisma :- Putron, you may go and show your mischiefs somewhere else, I need to talk to your mother, it's urgent.

They noded confused and went out, closing the door behind them. Bhisma turned towards the window and took a deep breath.

Bhisma :- He has returned.

Kunti's eyes shined, she knew whom her uncle was referring to.

Kunti :- Really tatshree.

Bhisma :- I just came after meeting him.

A smile appeared on Kunti's face.

Kunti :- Have you seen him tatshree ? How does he look like ? Is he fine and happy ?

Bhisma :- His eyes are exactly same as Pandu's, he is even taller than me, handsome chiseled face, well built phisique. Above all, his behaviour and words resemble a leader, just as we wanted him to be, maybe even better....

He narrated about the evening incident, Kunti thanked the Gods for fulfilling her wish, now only thing remains to tell him the truth and bring him back. But that was the real problem, how to reveal it so that problems would minimize.

Kunti :- When can I see him tatshree. How will you bring him here, I want to meet him, please say something....

Bhisma :- The more I think about it, more complicated it gets. I don't think he will be able to digest the truth all of a sudden, so first we need to tell everything about him to his froster parents. Adhirath told that he only listens to his mother, maybe she can help in making him understand. I have a plan ready for that......

He then explained the entire plan to her. Kunti smiled happily at having to meet her eldest son. Bhisma left the chamber after explaining her everything and reminding her about the story that had been created. She walked upto the table where her husband's dhanush was kept safely. She had never allowed anyone to come near it, she caressed the beautiful curves as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Kunti :- Our son is going to be here soon arya.

Late night, Karn was lying on his bed, in unable to sleep, he turned from side to side but nothing happened. Suddenly he saw his mother standing there, he got up as she sat beside him and caressed his head.

Karn :- Radha maa, why have you not slept still, it's pretty late.

Radha :- How can I sleep peacefully, if my son is awake, worried about something. You can tell me putra, maybe I can help.

He sighed and kept his head on her lap, she massaged his forehead a bit.

Karn :- Radha maa.

Radha :- Hmmm...

Karn :- What should I do if I want to forget someone, who was once very close to me but now is not there. I mean that person is not dead, I just want to forget that thing.

He tried to hide his expressions but Radha could see everything she had to, on his face.

Radha :- You should find someone else for yourself, who can fit in that place. You can't actually forget what happened in the past, you can accept it and move on.

Karn :- Does it work ?

Radha :- It depends, whether you truly want to forget her and move on or it's just your conscience arguing with your heart.

He got up surprised.

Karn :- How do you know I am talking about a girl.

Radha :- (smiles) Everything's written on your face putra. Will you tell me who is she ?

Karn :- Sorry Radha maa, I can't tell anything, I just want to move on.

He laid down keeping his head on her lap and closed his eyes while she hummed a song.



Did you like the chapter ?

I know guys, too much to take at once, but I didn't wanted to extend it anymore or it would have become boring.

Are you all ready for truth to be revealed ? What do you think would have Bhisma and Kunti planned ? Would someone be able to break that ego of Jhanvi ?

Target :- 30 votes.

Previous question's correct guess by GouthamKrishna8.

Do comment if you have any suggestions.