Sumali stood within her uncle Shakuni's chamber, the harsh afternoon sun casting an unwelcome glare across the room. An air of tension hung heavy, signaling an impending storm that matched the humid discomfort. The curtains fluttered occasionally as gentle breezes slipped in, barely managing to break the stifling stillness.

Sumali's gaze was unwavering, fixed upon her uncle Shakuni, who stubbornly kept his eyes averted towards the balcony, as if avoiding direct confrontation. She took a breath, her voice steady as she pressed for answers he had so far denied. He let out a resigned sigh, finally turning to her. His eyes remained resolute, refusing to betray the emotions that lay beneath.

Shakuni :- The answers you seek cannot be confined to mere words.

He said, his tone low and measured. Restlessness overtook him as he began pacing back and forth across the chamber's lavish floor.

Shakuni paused, his gaze searching hers.

Shakuni :- Do you know why I forsake my kingdom, my people, and my duties as a father ?

He inquired, his voice laden with history. Sumali shook her head, her curiosity piqued.

Sumali :- No, I do not.

He exhaled, his gaze flickering as he delved into the past. His voice wavered with the weight of memory as he recounted a story that was both tragic and haunting.

His sister's marriage to a blind man, his family's imprisonment, and the merciless abandonment of his kin to the ravages of hunger – the tales of suffering seemed endless. He had been powerless, forced to watch his loved ones perish, one after the other.

With a heavy heart, he settled into his chair, pouring a glass of water and draining it in one gulp. The memories were painful, yet he held onto them, tethered by a resolve that had fueled years of pent-up anger.

Shakuni :- I swore vengeance upon Mata Ganga's son, Bhism.



Shakuni admitted, his voice laced with bitterness.

Shakuni :- And I will stop at nothing to ensure his suffering, just as my family suffered.

Sumali's brows furrowed, her concern evident.

Sumali :- You enmity is with the son of Mata Ganga, but why involve the Kauravs and Pandavs? They are innocent in this feud.

Shakuni's eyes flashed with a mixture of desperation and determination.

Shakuni :- You don't understand, I don't want Bhism to die. If he dies, he won't suffer, he will rest in peace, but I want him to endure the agony I was forced to bear. The same way he will see his closed ones die one by one, in front of his eyes.

He explained, his words dripping with vindictiveness.

Sumali :- You're not just hurting Gangaputr Bhism.

She argued softly.

Sumali :- You're hurting your own sister – the woman you care about the most.

A swift retort escaped Shakuni's lips.

Shakuni :- She too will suffer, just as I did. She is no special to be exempted from the consequences. But the vengeance will be fulfilled, seeds have already been sown, I just have to make sure it develops its roots.

As their conversation hung in the air, a knock resounded at the chamber door. A guard entered, announcing the arrival of the head of the army, Amrit, who sought to meet the princess.

Sumali cast a lingering look at her uncle, the weight of their exchange heavy upon her shoulders. With a determined nod, she turned and left the chamber, the door closing behind her.

The chamber was left in silence once more, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. The tension remained, an unspoken testament to the divisions that simmered beneath the surface.



In the tranquil embrace of the early morning, Karn gently pours water from his kalash, his palms cupping it as if cradling a precious offering for the Suryadev. As his heartfelt prayers weave through the air, a soft smile graces his features, illuminated by the tender touch of the rising sun. The golden hues of his earrings twinkle as they catch the sun's rays, becoming tiny mirrors reflecting the divine light for miles around.

With a sense of serenity, Karn settles beneath the sheltering branches of a Banyan tree, his eyes sliding shut once more, each crease on his brow conveying his deep focus.

"sthavar jangmasya mukh hridayam mam vasham akarshaya akarshaya namah"

The rhythmic cadence of his mantras threads through the atmosphere, infusing the surroundings with an intangible devotion. Blossoms sway, leaves pirouette, and even the blades of grass seem to chime in a harmonious symphony of reverence.

The sun embarks on its daily voyage, traversing the arc from east to west, as Karn's heart continues to pour forth its devotion.



When he finally opens his eyes, a quiet satisfaction lingers in their depths, a testament to the completion of today's penance. Gathering his modest belongings, he chances upon a humble offering - berries, freshly washed and tenderly laid out on a leaf, a gesture of unspoken camaraderie.

As he reaches for a berry, a melodious voice, as delicate as a breeze, breaks the stillness. The forest's serenity was interrupted by the innocent curiosity that danced in Mira's voice.

Mira :- Why do you come here every day ?

She asked, her wide eyes fixed on Karn as if he held the key to a captivating mystery.

His's laughter bubbles forth like a gentle brook.

Karn :- Well, I'm not just spending time here, Mira. I'm offering my prayers to Mata Parvati.

Mira's brows knitted in contemplation, her small finger tapping her chin.

Mira :- But why in the forest ? Can't you do that at home ?

Karn leaned back against the tree, as if inviting Mira into his world of understanding.

Karn :- You see, there's something magical about this place. The rustling leaves, the gentle breeze - they all make me feel closer to the divine.

Mira's eyes widened, absorbing his words with the wonder only a child could muster.

Mira :- So, the trees and the wind hear you too ?

Karn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Karn :- Maybe not with their ears, but I believe they understand in their own way. It's like we're all part of a big conversation.

Mira's grin bloomed like a wildflower.

Mira :- That's cool!

His's heart warmed at her genuine enthusiasm.

Karn :- And what brings you here, young wanderer ?

She kicked a pebble with a tiny sneaker-clad foot, her cheeks rosy with a mix of shyness and pride.

Mira :- My mother says helping others is good. So, I bring you food sometimes.

Karn's eyes softened, and he gently ruffled Mira's hair.

Karn :- Your mother must be very proud of you. You're spreading kindness like little drops of sunshine.

Mira's chest puffed out ever so slightly, her smile matching the brilliance of the morning sun. But her curiosity wasn't quite sated.

Mira :- Can I ask you one more thing ?

Karn :- Of course.

He replied, his voice an open invitation.

Mira :- Do you miss your mother ?

Karn's expression softened, a touch of wistfulness in his eyes. He glanced up at the sky as if seeking solace in its expanse.

Karn :- Yes, every single day.

Mira's face mirrored his sadness, her young heart empathizing with a depth beyond her years.

His heart ached for the young girl before him. He knelt to her eye level, offering a reassuring smile.

Karn :- You know, Mira, I believe that my mother is like stars. Even though I can't see her, she's always watching over me.

Mira's eyes lit up, her smile returning with newfound hope.

Mira :- Really ?

He nodded.

Karn :- Absolutely.

As they shared a moment of quiet connection, their souls touched by the shared experience of loss, the forest seemed to embrace them both in its embrace. Karn's gaze returned to Mira's, and he found solace in the purity of her innocence.

Karn :- Thank you for bringing me food, Mira. It warms my heart.

Mira beamed, her eyes shimmering like morning dew.

Mira :- You're welcome, bhrata...

Karn :- Karn.

Mira :- Yeah, bhrata Karn.

Their conversation drifts like a leaf carried by a tranquil stream, the aura around them imbued with a quietude that only such early hours can bring. With a wistful smile and a final glance at the sky, Karn bids Mira adieu, stepping away from the tree's embrace, his heart lighter than before. ------ The tranquil evening draped the forest in shades of indigo and deep violet, a canvas painted by the fading sun. Karn's hunger beckoned him, and he sat beneath the tree, his collection of fruits spread out before him like a painter's palette. As he savored the first bite, the sweetness of the fruit burst on his tongue, a comforting delight after his morning's devotion.

Yet, amidst this solitary feast, the quietude was punctured by a soft cooing sound that carried on the gentle breeze. Karn looked around, his senses attuned to the nocturnal world, and his eyes caught the sight of a pigeon perched on a nearby branch.

Karn's curiosity was piqued. Pigeons were creatures of the day, rarely seen in the shroud of night. He surmised that the pigeon's presence might be a result of the noise he'd unintentionally generated earlier while arranging his place of respite. The pigeon's glossy eyes blinked at him, a silent communication passing between them.

In the velvety darkness, Karn's sharp archer's eyes noted a scroll, delicately attached to the pigeon's leg. His fingers tingled with the urge to explore, but he understood the importance of caution. Slowly, deliberately, he extended his hand toward the pigeon, hoping to convey his gentle intentions. With a graceful flutter of wings, the bird shifted to a nearby branch.

The minutes stretched like a patient breath as Karn observed, waiting for the pigeon to find comfort in his presence. When the bird finally deemed him non-threatening, he cradled it in his hands, his touch as tender as a lullaby. Its soft feathers brushed his skin, and he felt the rapid rhythm of its heartbeat, a rhythm that spoke of life and connection. Carefully, he untied the scroll, allowing the pigeon to return to its chosen haven within the tree's embrace.

" To Whomever Finds This,

Greetings to you from a world confined by walls, where the light of day and the colors of nature are but distant tales woven by whispered voices. I hope this message reaches someone who can share the wonders of a world I've only dreamed of.

wonder, what does the world outside look like ? Does the sun truly paint the sky with its warmth and grace ? Do the trees sway in the wind, like dancers in an eternal waltz ? Are there flowers that bloom, their fragrances carried on gentle breezes ? I can only imagine these scenes, guided by the stories passed down to me.

Sometimes, in the silence of my solitude, I close my eyes and try to conjure images of what life beyond these walls might be like. I envision colors and shapes, the touch of raindrops on my skin, and the caress of the wind through my hair. But they remain elusive, just beyond my grasp.

If you, dear reader, have the privilege of experiencing the world I've only dared to dream of, would you consider sharing it with me ? In this simple scroll, I extend my hand across the expanse that separates us, hoping to connect with the beauty that you encounter every day.

Perhaps you could describe the first light of dawn, the way it paints the sky with shades of pink and gold. Or the sound of a gentle stream, its laughter echoing through a meadow. I long to know the rustling of leaves, the feeling of grass beneath my feet, and the sweet taste of fruits grown under the open sky.

And if my words resonate with you, if you feel a kinship in our shared longing for connection, would you be open to an exchange of letters ? A friendship forged through ink and parchment, transcending the confines of our physical worlds.

And if my words resonate with you, if you feel a kinship in our shared longing for connection, would you be open to an exchange of letters ? A friendship forged through ink and parchment, transcending the confines of our physical worlds.

With hope and curiosity, An Unknown Seeker. "

Karn :- What is it ? A joke.

He glanced up at the dark sky, barring a few stars, the entire sky was covered with clouds.

Karn :- Who are you ?



The atmosphere in the conference room was thick with tension as the dusty afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting an uncomfortable warmth over the gathering. Draupadi, her sister Pallavi, and sister-in-law Devika, sat around the long rectangular table with their brothers-in-law Yudhishthir, Bheem, and Arjun.

Draupadi's disapproval was evident in her words as she questioned Bheem.

Draupadi :- So you just let him take it all.

Arjun, still seemingly lost in the strange events he described, replied.

Arjun :- At that point in time, I don't think anyone was really thinking anything. Things just kept going on in... a flow.

The others, except for Bheem, fixated their gaze on Arjun, waiting for more. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, arms folded, and continued.

Arjun :- At that moment, it was all too much to take already-the four-armed demon, human bones everywhere, those strange and magical carvings on walls, the tale of war between Gods and Asuras. And if that was not enough, this 'unknown' guest in Hastinapur. And why does she need herbs meant for Asurs? It's still a mystery.

His words seemed to have partially convinced the others, but doubts lingered. Bheem chimed in with his intuition.

Bheem :- I don't know if all that's happening really does concern us. But I can't ignore this bad feeling I am getting from the way Amrit described everything. From what I have known about him, he doesn't listen to anyone unless he has a share of profit. Why will he agree to help a stranger ? The question only he can answer.

Observing the discussion, Pallavi, who had been silent until now, spoke up, shifting the focus.

Pallavi :- But, the question should be 'Should it really concern us ?'.

Her statement caught everyone's attention, as she continued.

Pallavi :- I mean, they are the ones who separated us by sending us here to establish our own kingdom for living. And no communication regarding our progress or standings means they don't want to interfere in our matters, so why should we...

Yudhishthir wore a displeased expression, interrupting her.

Yudhishthir :- Bhabhi, they never disowned us; we're still a family. They did that because of the circumstances then, they had to ensure peace among brothers.

Pallavi defended her point.

Pallavi :- I'm not saying that they disowned us, just that they're not worried about what's happening here.

Devika joined the discussion.

Devika :- And that feud wasn't started by us, and they could've told Duryodhan to go and establish his own kingdom. Why us ?

Yudhishthir responded firmly.

Yudhishthir :- Would you tell that to your own son? Moreover, everyone understood that we were competent enough to do it. Almost half of the population migrated here with us. Why ?... Because they trusted us.

Devika didn't seem satisfied with his reply, but before the conversation could escalate into an unwanted argument, Draupadi intervened.

Draupadi :- Okay, okay, we're not here to discuss how to raise our children, so please.

Yudhishthir gave her a nod, and the others followed suit. Arjun suggested a course of action.

Arjun :- We should at least give them a visit, maybe we could find out whether everything's fine for us or not.

Bheem agreed but made it clear.

Bheem :- That's agreeable for me, but I'm not traveling again after just having returned, so either you'll have to go alone or take bhrata Yudhishthir along with you.

Draupadi turned her gaze to Yudhishthir, awaiting his response.

Yudhishthir :- Sure, it's been a while since I met Pitamah, he'll be happy to see us too.

Draupadi :- Fine then, just try to find out what all this is about and if this new guest can be a problem for us in the future or not.

Devika expressed her desire to join the journey.

Devika :- Can I go along? I haven't met Mother Kunti yet, I need to take her blessings.

Draupadi smiled warmly.

Draupadi :- Why not ? She too would be wanting to see you.

Bheem rose and declared.

Bheem :- Okay then, this sabha is over now, I'm leaving.

Arjun continued to watch his brother, sensing that something was weighing heavily on his mind.



As Bheem exited the conference room, the afternoon sun intermittently played peekaboo with the random clouds overhead, casting fleeting shadows over the palace gardens. The atmosphere was surprisingly peaceful compared to the earlier tense meeting.

His head thudded with the echoes of the heated discussion, and he couldn't help but feel a growing weight on his shoulders. Walking through the corridor, he spotted his younger sister, Dushala, sitting in the garden beneath the shade of a tree. Her protruding belly made her pregnancy evident. She struggled to rise from the bench, her hand resting on her belly for support. Bheem's heart leaped in concern, and he quickened his pace to reach her side. His massive frame seemed even more imposing in the garden's serene setting.

Dushala's eyes lit up with relief when she saw her brother rushing to her aid. He scolded her gently, his voice a mix of worry and frustration.

Bheem :- Dushala, why didn't you call for help ? You shouldn't be doing this all by yourself!

With a hint of defensiveness, she replied.

Dushala :- I did try, bhrata. I called out, but no one heard me.

Anger simmered in Bheem's voice as he called for the maids who promptly rushed to their side, their heads bowed in submission. He scolded them sternly, warning that such neglect should not happen again.

Dushala, ever the peacemaker, calmed her brother.

Dushala :- I can get up on my own, bhrata. It's just that I felt a bit weak at the moment.

Bheem :- Weak or not, you should have called for assistance immediately! This kind of inconvenience should not happen!

Dushala :- Bhrata, please, there's no need to be so angry. I'm fine now.

She patted the bench beside her for him to take seat and gestured the maids to leave them. As he sighed and sat down beside her, realizing he had raised his voice, he took a deep breath and softened his tone, a mixture of remorse and concern in his eyes .

Bheem :- I'm sorry, Dushala. I shouldn't have shouted like that. But you have to understand, things haven't been easy for any of us lately.

She understood the toll their family's recent trials and tribulations had taken.

Dushala :- I know. Ever since bhrata Karn's exile, everything has been changing so quickly.

Bheem, realizing the toll it has taken on him, weariness etched on his face as he nodded in agreement.

Bheem :- Yeah, it feels like we're all being pulled in different directions. I just hope one day we can find peace among ourselves.

Dushala studied her brother's tired face and remarked upon his exhaustion. Bheem chuckled humorlessly, admitting that he was indeed tired, worn down by the ongoing feud between cousins and the constant family tensions. The garden, with its gentle breeze and the soothing rustle of leaves, provided a backdrop to this poignant moment between brother and sister.

He asked her a question that had been weighing on his mind.

Bheem :- Do you believe one day all the brothers can live happily, setting aside all the differences ?

Dushala pondered this for a moment before responding.

Dushala :- If believing alone could solve the problem, our entire family would already be happy together. But if the brothers are to reconcile, it is completely up to them.

Bheem sighed, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. He then posed another question, his voice tinged with concern.

Bheem :- Would you be angry on me if the brothers were to come face to face on the battlefield ?

Dushala stared at him, her gaze unwavering, before softly replying.

Dushala :- If that time comes, you should do your duty without bias or second thoughts. If you do that, I'll always be proud of you.

A small smile graced Bheem's lips as he admitted.

Bheem :- I'm glad you're not like your brothers.

Dushala smiled in return, expressing her genuine desire for a different and peaceful outcome. Bheem shook his head and remarked.

Bheem :- If it were up to the brothers alone, the feud would've been settled long ago. But the involvement of external factors, especially Amrit, has made it even worse.

Dushala confided.

Dushala :- As far as I know Amrit, he hates being in the shadows. He wants to build his own image among the warriors, and he believes he can only do that by killing bhrata Karn.

Bheem scoffed at the notion.

Bheem :- That's not possible in this lifetime.

Dushala, displaying her trust in her brothers, said.

Dushala :- I trust you and brother Arjun to prevent such a tragedy.

Bheem leaned back on the bench, closing his eyes and pledging.

Bheem :- I won't be the one to start the conflict.

She squeezed his arm affectionately and requested his assistance in standing up. He chuckled warmly, nodding his head, and helped her rise. With narrowed eyes, she questioned whether he too would return to his room. Bheem declined, expressing his desire for a few moments of solitude.

Bheem watched her depart, his gaze lingering on the peaceful garden, as he leaned back on the bench, closing his eyes and folding his arms.

Unbeknownst to him, Arjun had been secretly listening to their conversation from behind the tree, a knowing smile on his lips. With a quiet departure, he left the siblings to their thoughts, hoping for a brighter future amidst the challenges that lay ahead.



The scene unfolds as the pigeon, a messenger of the early morning sky, embarks on its journey across vast and varied landscapes. It soars over rolling grasslands, through dense forests alive with the whispering secrets of the trees, past tiny villages just beginning to stir, and over training fields where warriors honed their skills. It glides gracefully above bustling trading hubs, where the commerce of the world flowed like a river.

The sun, still in its infancy, paints the heavens with hues of orange and gold as it begins its ascent, casting a warm embrace upon the land.

With purpose and determination, the pigeon speeds toward its destination, a magnificent palace that rises like a beacon amid the landscape. Its eyes, keen and unwavering, seek out a particular window among the palace's many, and with a graceful flick of its wings, it lands softly upon the windowsill.

The sound of its arrival, like a whisper against the curtain of dawn, stirs a figure within the dimly lit room. Flickering candles illuminate the chamber, their flames dancing on the cusp of extinguishment. A figure stirs beneath the cover of the bedsheet, and a slender hand emerges, followed by another, as a young girl sits up, her body wracked with the remnants of sleep.

It is Vrushali, princess of the Kingdom of Tilprasth. With a languid stretch and a wide yawn, she tugs strands of hair behind her ears and rubs the remnants of dreams from her eyes. As is her daily ritual, she rises from her bed, setting her feet upon the cold floor and embarking upon her morning routine of freshening up and offering her prayers.

Moments later, she emerges from the bathroom, her wet hair concealed beneath a towel. Her gaze falls upon the pigeon perched at the window, a familiar sight that greeted her each morning. A frown creased her brow as she noticed a letter tied to the pigeon's leg, a usual departure from their usual routine.

A knock on her chamber door caught her attention, and she called for entry. A maid entered the room, bearing a tray with her morning meal. Vrushali nodded in acknowledgment, her sigh a testament to her confusion.

She gestured for the maid to leave and approached her study table, picking up a fresh parchment and rolling it into a scroll. With a gesture of her hand, she beckoned the pigeon closer. The bird obeyed, gliding to her side and nuzzling against her palm as she untied the previous letter.

A sense of anticipation and curiosity mingled as she unrolled the parchment, only to reveal that it had been rolled in the opposite direction. Her eyes widened, and a smile graced her face when she realized that someone had replied to her letter.

Vrushali :- Finally!!

She exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and relief. It read,

" Dear Unknown Seeker,

Your words, like a whisper from a distant dream, reached me beneath the tapestry of stars, and I'm moved by the earnestness in your letter. It's as if you've extended a hand from the confines of your world, and I gladly accept your invitation to share the wonders of mine.

The world outside these walls is a tapestry woven by the hands of nature herself. Each dawn is a masterpiece, with the sun painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, as if to remind us that each day is a canvas awaiting our own strokes of color. The trees, guardians of ancient wisdom, sway to the rhythm of the wind, a dance of life and grace. Flowers bloom in nature's garden, their fragrances carried on gentle breezes, a symphony of scents that awakens the senses.

I find solace in the touch of raindrops, each one a tiny messenger from the heavens. The caress of the wind through my hair is a reminder of the invisible threads that connect us all. The rustling of leaves is a song of the earth, and the feeling of grass beneath my feet is a grounding force that keeps me rooted to the world around me.

Your longing to experience these simple yet profound pleasures resonates deeply with me. It's a reminder that there is beauty to be found in every corner of the world, even in the most unexpected places.

I accept your offer of friendship with open arms. The idea of connecting through ink and parchment, transcending the boundaries of our physical worlds, fills me with anticipation.

With warmth and gratitude, Your friend. "

Yet, the writer had not revealed their name, leaving her with an enigmatic connection to an unknown soul. As she finished reading the reply, a newfound energy surged within her, a sensation previously unknown.

Vrushali :- Who are you ?



She whispered, her voice directed toward the boundless expanse of the sky beyond her window.

With her heart racing and the promise of an intriguing connection, Vrushali's world had just expanded beyond the walls of her palace, and she couldn't help but embrace this newfound adventure with open arms.

The scene concludes, leaving Vrushali with a mystery to unravel and a new chapter in her life about to unfold.



In the heart of the woods, bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight, Princess Awantika rode her majestic horse, flanked by her loyal soldiers. The dusty trail they followed wound its way through the not-so-dense forest, leading them to the sacred temple of Goddess Chamunda. This journey had been a cherished dream, finally realized thanks to her mother, Queen Sanjana's, permission.

The forest path they traversed was a quiet, tranquil stretch surrounded by towering trees. Shafts of dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow on the ground. The trees, while not densely packed, stood close enough to form a natural canopy overhead, casting a cool, dappled shade upon the trail.



The forest floor was covered in a soft carpet of fallen leaves and pine needles, muffling the sounds of their horses' hooves as they moved along. The air was scented with the earthy aroma of moss and damp soil, with occasional wafts of wildflowers and the distant, soothing murmur of a babbling brook.

Birds chirped melodiously from the branches above, adding to the enchanting ambiance. It was the kind of place where the rustle of a gentle breeze and the distant call of forest creatures were the primary sounds, creating a serene and almost otherworldly atmosphere.

As Awantika rode along the quiet forest path, her thoughts drifted to her cherished moments with Nakul. Her hand instinctively gripped the hilt of the sword hanging at her waist. The sword had been a gift to her from him. A fond smile graced her lips as she remembered their playful sparring matches that often led to tender moments between them. Her cheeks flushed with warmth at these memories. In those moments, their swords clashed with a mix of passion and laughter, often leading to stolen kisses and sweet embraces. The image of Nakul's confident and dashing presence during these sparring matches filled her mind.

Her heart fluttered as she recalled the warmth of his touch, the way his eyes locked onto hers, and the magnetic pull that drew them closer. The woods around her seemed to disappear as she lost herself in the enchanting memories of their stolen moments together.

These memories were more than just romantic; they were a testament to the deep connection they shared. Awantika's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her heart filled with love, and she silently prayed that their love would continue to flourish, even in the face of whatever challenges lay ahead.

Her purpose for this pilgrimage was clear: to pray for Nakul's well-being and their eternal love. She hoped the divine blessings from the temple would help them conquer any obstacles that lay ahead in their life together.

As she rode lost in her thoughts, the pleasant atmosphere took an ominous turn. A familiar, unsettling laugh pierced the peaceful forest. Her senses sharpened, but before she could identify the source of the eerie laughter, a sudden and brutal impact against her head sent her world spiraling into darkness....

"Surprise!!!"



Did you like the part ?

So, Shakuni is determined to fulfill what he started, he's not going to stop.

But what will be Sumali's reaction to all this. Will she side with her uncle or decide to refrain from the plotting and politics.

What do you expect from her guys ? On which side do you want her to be ?

So, a new person has entered the scene - Mira. What role does she have ?

Dushala seems to be a sensible person, she looks at situations with a neutral perspective, rather than carry bias. What do you think ?

How is Vrushali's story going to proceed ? How will she get to know who is the unknown person on the other end ?

Do comment if you have any suggestions.

Will see you in the next part, untill then, take care and bye.