In the wake of the tragic incident involving Maharishi Kindram, a heavy cloud of sorrow and remorse enveloped the royal palace of Hastinapur. Maharaj Pandu, his heart burdened by guilt, gathered his uncle Bhism and his grandmother Satyavati to narrate the sad tale. The solemnity of the room matched the weight of the story, and Kunti and Madri were overcome with guilt, recognizing their own role in the events that led to Pandu's curse.

The royal family, once united by joy and promise, now stood fractured by the consequences of a single arrow. The shock and sadness were palpable among its members, who had all loved and respected Pandu deeply. But amidst the sadness, there was one individual who found perverse satisfaction in the unfolding events-Gandhar Raj Shakuni.

Shakuni's sinister mind reveled in the chaos. With Pandu's curse, the path to the throne became clearer for his future nephew. Now, his sister Gandhari's position as Dhritrashtra's wife seemed even more significant, as her future child would have an unobstructed path to becoming the next king.

Pandu, consumed by guilt and despair, made a momentous decision. He relinquished the crown, opting for self-imposed exile to atone for his sins. Bhism and numerous relatives, officials, and sages attempted to dissuade him, reminding him of his capabilities as a king and his responsibility towards the kingdom. However, Pandu remained resolute, his decision unshaken by the pleas of his loved ones.

With Pandu's departure, Prince Dhritrashtra was crowned temporary king, and life continued in the palace as it did before Pandu's rule. The months that followed were filled with a semblance of peace, yet an underlying sense of emptiness lingered.

One day, Pandu received a letter from Mahamahim Bhism that contained news from Gandhari's side of the family. It had been two years since Gandhari's marriage to Dhritrashtra, and she had not yet given birth. The situation was becoming problematic, as rumors and gossip were beginning to circulate throughout the kingdom. The letter's contents stirred a range of emotions within Pandu.

As he read Bhism's words, Pandu couldn't help but reflect on the joys of fatherhood-the laughter of children, their innocent smiles, and the warmth of their embrace. He, too, felt the longing to hold his own child in his arms, to experience the indescribable bond of parenthood. But he also felt the weight of his wives' discomfort and hesitance towards the concept of Niyog.

Despite his yearning, Pandu understood the complexities of the situation. He had respected his wives' feelings and had refrained from pressuring them into a decision they weren't comfortable with. He knew that trust and understanding were the cornerstones of any relationship, and he couldn't betray that.

Lonely moments that once defined his life were now replaced by a pervasive sense of gloominess and despair. The palace walls seemed to echo with emptiness, a stark reminder of what was missing from his life. His soul, burdened by the consequences of his actions, yearned for solace and redemption, even as the world around him carried on with its routines and obligations.



One serene evening, the royal trio-Pandu, Kunti, and Madri-found themselves captivated by the spectacle of the setting sun. The golden hues of the horizon painted a scene of tranquility that seemed to envelop them in a comforting embrace. The weight of their collective thoughts was palpable, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the warm silence shared among them felt more profound than any words could convey.

Kunti's gaze shifted to her husband, his features marked by a weariness that struck her heart. Determination welled within her; she felt the time was right to share the secret that had been held within her heart. She turned towards him, her voice gentle yet filled with earnestness.

Kunti :- Arya.

His response was a soft hum, a weary acknowledgment that carried a sense of vulnerability. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, the weight of his burdens evident in the lines etched on his forehead. Kunti's heart fluttered, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Kunti :- I... I know you are... sad... because you don't have your own child.

The words hung in the air, a bridge between their shared pain and her desire to offer a glimmer of hope. Pandu sighed deeply, the sigh carrying not only the weight of his unfulfilled wishes but also a profound understanding of her empathy.

With visible effort, he turned his gaze towards her, the corner of his lips lifting in a bittersweet smile.

Pandu :- And I am sorry... this all is happening because of me.

Kunti's heart clenched at his response, at the way he bore the weight of their struggles as his own burden. But before her anguish could deepen, Madri's voice chimed in, a plea for shared responsibility and understanding.

Madri :- We... we are equally at fault, please... don't put this blame all on yourself.

Pandu's eyes shifted to Madri, the truth of her words resonating within him. The burden of responsibility was a shared one, and as he looked between his two wives, a mixture of emotions swirled within him.

Pandu :- I don't think it matters anymore as to whose fault it ultimately was... damage has already been done... and now you can't do anything about it.

The weight of his words hung in the air, a somber reminder of the irreversibility of their situation. Kunti's resolve surged within her, a determination to share a secret that could potentially change their lives.

Kunti :- But you can still have your own son... arya.

Pandu's eyes widened, surprise mingling with a glimmer of hope as her words echoed in the air. The abruptness of the statement, coupled with the anticipation in Kunti's eyes, left him baffled.

Madri's curiosity mirrored his own, her voice tinged with a mixture of hope and curiosity.

Madri :- Are you going for the Niyog process ?

Kunti's eyes held a promise, a story waiting to be unveiled.

Kunti :- No, I have another way, but first... you need to promise to hear my story complete, only then you can question me.

Pandu's concern and intrigue deepened, a knot forming in his stomach as he agreed.

Pandu :- You have me worried Kunti... but that's acceptable.

Madri's agreement mirrored his own, their collective attention now fully focused on Kunti as she began her revelation.

Kunti :- It begins when I was 17 years of age. Maharishi Durvasa visited our kingdom, he's well known for his anger and curses given, so pitashree assigned the responsibility of his stay to me. I did everything I could to serve him and make sure he is satisfied with his stay, impressed with my devotion he blessed me with a mantra using which I can summon any Dev of my choice and he will bless me with a son who will have characteristics like him.

The expressions on Pandu and Madri's faces shifted from confusion to realization, hope emerging as they understood the significance of her words.



As Kunti's narrative reached its climax, her gaze met Pandu's, her eyes carrying a vulnerability she had rarely shown before. When his smile broke out, her heart swelled, and she was drawn into an emotional embrace. Pandu's tears mingled with his smile, a testament to the emotions that surged within him.

Pandu :- Why... why Kunti why didn't you told me about this before, it's... so good news, we can have kids... our own family.

Amid their shared embrace, Kunti hesitated, emotions swirling within her like a tempest. The pause was fleeting, but it held a universe of emotions-the past, the present, and the uncertainty of their future.

Kunti :- The tale is not over yet, arya.

Pandu's curiosity remained unabated, a readiness to understand every facet of her revelation.

Pandu :- Oh.. uh.. then please continue.

With a deep breath, Kunti's voice resumed its steady cadence.

Kunti :- One morning when I was praying, in my curiosity I used the mantra and summoned Suryadev and he blessed me with a son.

Silence enveloped them once again, the significance of Kunti's words hanging in the air like a delicate thread, waiting to weave the course of their lives in new directions.

Pandu :- Why stop, go on, what happened ?

Kunti :- I...

Kunti hesitated, a storm of emotions churning within her. The weight of her past, the fear of judgment, and the hope for understanding battled for dominance in her expression. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, a physical manifestation of the anxiety that gripped her. In this pivotal moment, Madri's presence became her anchor-a steadying force that reminded her she wasn't alone.

Madri :- It's okay jiji, it happens, you were naive then and curiosity... it's human nature. What's his name by the way.... and you said he'd have divine characteristics... what were his'.

Madri's words offered comfort like a gentle embrace, providing Kunti the strength to continue. She looked at her husband, her eyes searching his for a glimpse of understanding amidst the turmoil of her revelation.

Kunti :- Suryadev named him 'Karn', as he had a pair of glinting earrings attached to his ears, he also had a divine impenetrable armour protecting him, most beautiful baby boy I've ever seen.

Pandu's reaction was a symphony of emotions-a blend of joy, surprise, and a trace of disappointment. His smile shone through, a beacon of newfound hope.

Pandu :- You know what, at this moment, no matter how much I try, I can't be angry on you. You've given me a reason to be happy again...but, I feel dissapointed, you couldn't trust me enough to tell me about him before.

Kunti's heart ached at the weight of his words. His vulnerability echoed her own, both seeking solace in the midst of their shared revelation.

Kunti :- No arya, it's not about trust, I trust you with my life. It's...

Madri interjected, her tone lighthearted and determined, steering the conversation toward a more positive direction.

Madri :- Now don't you start this emotional thing again, this is a happy moment, can't we celebrate it. And jiji, when can we meet him, you know I can't wait, where is he now ?

Pandu's enthusiasm resonated with Madri's, his eyes brimming with anticipation.

Pandu :- Yes Kunti, I can't wait to see my son, my eldest son, my pride. I will write a letter to Tatshree today only, informing him that Hastinapur does not need to worry about future yuvraj anymore.

Kunti looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. His willingness to accept and embrace her son warmed her heart, and she felt a mixture of gratitude and joy. Her voice wavered as she attempted to express her feelings.

Kunti :- Are... you... not angry... on me... I had him... be... before our... marriage.

Pandu's actions spoke louder than words as he cupped her face, tenderly wiping away her tears. His touch was a balm to her wounded heart.

Pandu :- No, I can never be angry on you, a little dissapointed, yes but I will never doubt you.

Their emotional exchange was powerful, the unspoken understanding between them transcending words. Kunti closed her eyes, her heart swelling as his embrace provided the comfort she so desperately needed.

Kunti :- I'm... I'm sorry arya, I... was scared...

Pandu's soothing response encapsulated his empathy and wisdom.

Pandu :- Shh... it's okay to be scared... this society doesn't respect women at all. Now tell me, when are you going to let me see my son.

The atmosphere shifted as Kunti's voice took on a hesitant note, her resolve battling with a heavy secret she had held for years.

Kunti :- You... you can't meet him.

The abruptness of her statement jolted Pandu and Madri, their expressions a mixture of confusion and surprise.

Pandu & Madri :- What ? Why ?

As Kunti shook her head and turned away, wiping her tears, her vulnerability became palpable.

Kunti :- You need to understand... I was only seventh then, I didn't knew anything about the society, rules, etc. I was fool, a scared little girl, afraid of backlash from society.

Madri's confusion deepened as she sought to understand the weight of Kunti's confession.

Madri :- What... did you do ?

Kunti's voice trembled as she recounted her past actions, her emotions oscillating between regret and a deep, buried pain.

Kunti :- I couldn't think of anything or I can better say I didn't wanted to think of anything, so I put him in a basket and set it afloat in the river Ganga.

Madri's eyes widened, shock and disbelief flashing across her face. Her hands instinctively tightened around Kunti's, providing a grounding presence amidst the overwhelming revelation.

Frustration began to rise as Madri's husband paced back and forth, his hands sweating with agitation. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of Kunti's confession casting a heavy shadow over their understanding of the past.

Pandu :- Why is that ? One moment, you give me the happiness of my life and then the other moment you take it back.

In his earnestness, Pandu knelt before Kunti, his hand gently cradling hers. His eyes held a mix of emotions, from frustration to understanding, as he struggled to reconcile his newfound hope with the shocking revelation.

Pandu :- I... can't blame you completely, this society... doesn't respect women at all. But... there were many other ways you could've handled this... I mean given him up for adoption, handed him over to an orphanage etc.

Kunti's remorse was palpable, her voice trembling as she sought to express the profound regret she felt.

Kunti :- I know... I... I know and I'm sorry I was so scared and.... and stupid, I wasn't thinking straight. The only thing in my mind at the moment... was... to... get rid of him.... I'm sorry.

Pandu's heart ached for his wife, and he squeezed her hand gently, offering solace rather than judgment.

Pandu :- You don't need to apologise to me, I... I understand your pain. But the thing is, what shall we do now I want to see my son, I want to hear him call me... father.

Madri, ever the voice of reason, suggested a course of action that could potentially reunite them with Kunti's firstborn.

Madri :- We should inform others about him, surely Jeysth shree and Tatshree will look into the matter and do something.

Pandu, however, urged caution, recognizing the sensitivity of the situation and the need for a careful approach.

Pandu :- No, not everyone, we need to be careful before spilling the beans. I will write a letter to Tatshree and call him here for a talk. We can then figure out what has to be done and how to proceed further, meanwhile all we can do is pray, that one day we can get to see him.

Madri, always considering the well-being of their family, raised an important point about companionship for Kunti's firstborn.

Madri :- Arya, jiji Gandhari told me that she has a boon to have 100 sons. Don't you think your son will need some support as brothers, to always hold his back.

Pandu acknowledged the wisdom in her words, knowing that his son would indeed benefit from the support of brothers.

Pandu :- Yeah, you're right, he will.

Kunti, her eyes now brimming with a mix of emotions, sought to bring light to their plans and decisions.

Kunti :- So tell me arya, which God's son do you wish for ?

Pandu's response was heartfelt, reflecting his deep desire for a son who would embody virtuous qualities.

Pandu :- I want my son to be a firm believer as well as follower of Dharm, who would be the epitome of honesty and good behaviour. You should summon Yamraj, the God of Justice.

Kunti wiped away her tears, her resolve strengthened by Pandu's choice.

Kunti :- As you wish arya, tommorow morning we will pray to him and I will use the mantra to summon him.



With the first rays of the rising sun the next morning, the royal family stood on the hill, their faces bathed in the warm blessings of the sun, praying to Yamraj, the God of Justice. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as Kunti, Madri, and Maharaj Pandu stood together, united in their hopes and desires.

Kunti, with a determined yet reverent demeanor, stepped forward and began to chant the divine mantra. As she did, the weather around them shifted suddenly, black clouds gathering and lightning crackling in the sky. The very elements seemed to respond to her call as Yamraj made his majestic appearance, a smile gracing his divine countenance as he acknowledged their sincere prayers.

Yamraj :- So you decided to use the mantra once again, though this time it was after sincere consideration. But never forget about your eldest son, remember, it may take time to find him but you will eventually have him with your family.

Kunti's voice trembled with gratitude as she responded to the God's benevolent words.

Kunti :- Thank you, O lord, I will forever remember this blessing.

Yamraj, with an aura of wisdom and compassion, bestowed his blessing upon them.

Yamraj :- Now that you've summoned me using the mantra, I am blessing you with my son, embodiment of Dharm, truthful in speech and determination glowing on his face. He, will be known as Yudhisthir, one who is calm, even in a war.

As he raised his right hand, a radiant white light emanated from it, gently descending upon Kunti. The next moment, she felt the gentle movements of a baby in her arms. Yamraj's divine presence was felt not only through his words but through the tangible presence of their newborn son.

With a serene smile, he vanished, leaving the husband and wives with their cherished son.

Tears of joy filled Pandu's eyes as he cradled his son in his strong, loving arms. He kissed the baby's tiny forehead with a father's adoration.

Pandu :- This is one of the best days of my life, I love you, my son.

Madri, her heart overflowing with motherly affection, gently caressed the baby's delicate face. The baby, startled by the sudden light and newfound attention, let out a cry that was music to their ears.

Madri :- Lets go back first, and I'll arrange for some clothing for him, and he might be hungry too.

Kunti nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with happiness and anticipation.

Kunti :- Yes, and we also have to prepare for the customary bath.

With their precious bundle of joy cradled in Kunti's arms, they descended from the hill and returned to their huts. The day was filled with the laughter and cooing of their newborn, as the royal family celebrated their newfound happiness.

Bhism's joy knew no bounds when he received the invitation to visit his nephew Pandu and witnessed the presence of the baby with them. As he held the infant in his arms, a profound sense of contentment and relief washed over him. The long-standing conflict regarding the next heir to the throne was temporarily resolved, alleviating the weight of responsibility from his shoulders.

During his visit, Bhism learned about Kunti giving birth to a son named Karn and the heart-wrenching story of his abandonment. Although he harbored some doubts about the child's lineage, Bhism recognized the importance of reuniting Karn with his family. He agreed to take discreet measures to organize a team to search for the lost child.

However, Bhism imposed a strict condition: this mission must remain a closely guarded secret. He understood the potential for trouble if Gandhar King Shakuni were to catch wind of their efforts. Shakuni had proven himself a master manipulator, and Bhism was well aware that he could exploit this situation to his advantage by influencing the present king, Dhritrashtra. The stakes were high, and secrecy was paramount to their success.



In Hastinapur, a mysterious and rather unsettling event unfolded as a pound of flesh was extracted from Gandhari's womb through a delicate operation. The entire court was in a state of bewilderment, unsure of what this unusual occurrence meant or how to proceed. Once again, King Mother Satyavati, a woman of great wisdom, found herself in a position where she needed to seek the counsel of Bhism.

Recognizing the gravity of the situation and the need for guidance, Bhism reluctantly agreed to her request. The only hope lay in the intervention of Maharishi Ved Vyas, a sage known for his unparalleled knowledge and wisdom.

Upon arrival, Maharishi Ved Vyas faced the peculiar task of dividing the extracted flesh into 101 parts. With precision and purpose, he carefully placed each fragment into organic pots, filling them with a unique blend of herbs and sealing them with a layer of clarified butter. The mystique surrounding these pots and their contents deepened, leaving the royal court in a state of both anticipation and trepidation.

As these events transpired, another crisis loomed in the palace. Satyavati learned of a maid who was pregnant with Dhritrashtra's child, further complicating an already tense situation. Amidst accusations and denials, Satyavati worked tirelessly to mediate and resolve the conflict, striving to maintain peace within the royal family.

In the midst of these challenges, Maharishi Vyas provided a glimmer of hope. He informed the royal family that all they could do now was wait, their fates hanging in the balance. The palace was enveloped in an atmosphere of uncertainty, with everyone anxiously awaiting the outcome of these enigmatic events.



The unusual day in Hastinapur was marked by an eerie and fearsome weather phenomenon. Dark, brooding clouds swirled ominously across the sky, blotting out the sun's warm rays. Lightning crackled with a menacing intensity, slicing through the sky in jagged streaks that illuminated the dark clouds like veins of fire.

Thunder rumbled like an angry giant, shaking the very foundations of the earth. The charged winds howled and whipped through the trees, making them sway and groan in protest. Rain poured down in torrents, soaking the ground and turning streets into glistening rivers.

The atmosphere was thick with tension, and even the bravest souls couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease as they witnessed nature's fury unleashed upon their tranquil town.

The unusual weather in Hastinapur had Adhirath on edge. He paced nervously outside his room, his anxiety growing with each passing moment as he heard Radha's increasing cries. Their long-awaited child was coming today.

Karn, their 6-year-old son, sat nearby, holding a gift. He observed his father's tension and innocently asked why he was so worried, not fully grasping the situation.

Adhirath paused to look at his son, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions.

Adhirath :- You'll understand, my son, when you grow older and become a father.

He replied, his words tinged with a sense of experience and wisdom.

Karn's innocent curiosity continued as he asked,

Karn :- When will I get married ?

His question brought a hearty laugh from his father, who sat down beside him.

Adhirath :- Like I said, son, when you grow up and become a man.

Adhirath replied, playfully tousling his son's hair. His curiosity then turned to his son's desires.

Adhirath :- Who do you wish for as your sibling, a brother or a sister ?

He inquired and Karn's response was heartwarming.

Karn :- I just wish for a sibling, I don't care whether it's a boy or a girl, I'll love them both equally.

Karn said with a warm smile. Adhirath couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. His son's maturity and capacity for unconditional love at such a young age filled him with a deep sense of joy and contentment.

As they sat together, a dramatic shift in the atmosphere occurred. Radha's shrieks of pain were suddenly replaced by the unmistakable sound of a baby's cry.

A few moments later, the door to Adhirath's room opened, and an elderly doctor stepped out, cradling a newborn baby in her arms. She warmly congratulated Adhirath, informing him that he was now the father of two sons.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Adhirath closed his eyes for a moment, looking up as if sending a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens for this precious blessing. He then took the baby boy into his arms and planted a gentle kiss on the newborn's tiny forehead.

Feeling a tug on his shirt, Adhirath looked down to find his elder son, Ram, standing beside him. The excitement in Karn's eyes was palpable as he asked,

Karn :- Can I see him, Father ?

Adhirath couldn't resist that request, so he knelt down, allowing Karn a closer look at his younger brother.

Karn stared in awe at the little bundle in his father's arms and ever so gently touched the baby's soft cheeks.

Karn :- He's so soft!

He exclaimed in wonder, a sentiment that brought a heartfelt chuckle from Adhirath.

Karn's curiosity continued to shine through as he asked,

Karn :- What are you going to name him ?

Adhirath pondered for a moment, his gaze fondly fixed on the newborn in his arms.

Adhirath :- Hmmm... he's a blessing for us, so we'll call him Amrit.

He announced with a warm smile. Karn's eyes twinkled with approval at the choice.

However, their joyful moment was interrupted when the elderly doctor, who had been observing this heartwarming father-son exchange, cleared her throat to gain Adhirath's attention. She requested a moment alone with him, and Adhirath agreed, instructing Karn to go and inform the others about the new addition to their family.

Once Ram had left the room, the old lady fixed her gaze on Adhirath, her expression devoid of emotion. Her words were chilling and unexpected.

Lady :- Your newborn son, Adhirath, is a bad omen, a curse on the life of your elder son.

She declared, causing Adhirath to stumble back in shock. He teetered for a moment but managed to regain his balance. He stared at the lady's face, which remained unsettlingly emotionless, as if this were an everyday pronouncement for her.

The pleasant mood that had enveloped the room was suddenly shattered, replaced by a heavy, emotional atmosphere laden with uncertainty and dread.

The old lady's words cut deep into Adhirath's heart. She implored him not to raise this child, claiming that his elder son was destined for greatness and that the newborn was a formidable obstacle in his path. The tears welled up in the corners of Adhirath's eyes as he grappled with the gut-wrenching thought of sacrificing his own child.

Adhirath :- What... consequences ?

Adhirath managed to choke out, his voice quivering as he fought to control his sobs.

The lady's gaze remained unwavering as she responded,

Lady :- I've seen it in the baby's eyes - destruction, bloodshed, and death. Your sons will never get along with each other, and the differences between them will only widen with time, leading to...

Her words trailed off as she saw the agony etched on Adhirath's face. Her heart brimmed with pity for the weeping father.

Adhirath :- Leading to... what ?

Adhirath desperately pressed, but she could only shake her head.

Lady :- Something you won't want to know.

She replied, leaving Adhirath to slump into a chair, his legs giving way beneath him. On what should have been a joyous day, he found himself torn between the elation of becoming a father once more and the crushing weight of this foreboding prophecy.

The old lady's words hung heavily in the air as she gave Adhirath the painful choice to make.

Lady :- I'm not forcing you for your descision, Adhirath, it's upto you whether you want to raise this child or not. If you still want to, go ahead, I won't stop you, and in that case, you will bear the brunt of the consequences.

Desperation welled up inside Adhirath as he looked at her with pleading eyes.

Adhirath :- Is... is there any way to change the future, to prevent what you've seen? I will raise them well, I'll teach them to be together, to be each other's strengths...

His words tumbled out in a fervent attempt to prove the doctor wrong.

Lady :- Even if there is, I'm not aware of that. I can only glimpse the future; I don't control it. Make your decision wisely, Adhirath. I leave it up to you.

She responded before walking out of the house.

Adhirath waited for the other nurses to depart before entering the room where his wife lay, exhausted from the rigors of childbirth. He carefully settled beside her, making sure not to wake her. With a heavy heart, he gazed down at the tiny face of his newborn son.

Adhirath :- Amrit.

He whispered, the name he had chosen for his younger son. The scene concluded, leaving Adhirath with an agonizing choice and an uncertain future looming over his family.



Ten months later, Kunti, with her unwavering faith and the divine mantra at her disposal, called upon the Vayu Dev. In a moment of divine connection, she was bestowed with a son, a child of superhuman strength and a heart filled with kindness. He was destined to be a formidable pillar of support for his loved ones and a formidable nightmare for their enemies.

With boundless love and joy in his heart, Pandu named his son 'Bheemsen', a name that would echo through the annals of history, a name that would become synonymous with valor and unwavering protection. ------------

In the grand Royal Palace of Hastinapur, the 101 pots that held the future of the Kuru dynasty had been the subject of meticulous care and observation since the day they were filled with their mysterious contents. The entire court waited with bated breath for a sign of life within these pots, a sign that would herald the future of their lineage.

One day, the long-anticipated moment arrived as one of the pots stirred. Maharishi Ved Vyas, the revered sage, gently lifted the well-grown baby from its container. After a thorough examination to ensure the child's health, he shared the joyous news with everyone present - the birth of a baby boy.

Tears of happiness glistened in Maharaj Dhritrashtra's eyes as he cradled the newborn to his chest. He chose a name for his firstborn that would signify strength and invincibility, naming him 'Duryodhan'.

From that day forward, the procession continued. Each day saw the movement of another pot, and a new baby was carefully brought into the world. The second son was named 'Dussasan', followed by 'Vikarn', and so on, until the youngest child, a daughter, received the name 'Dushala'.

The palace was filled with the laughter and cries of these new arrivals, each destined to play a significant role in the epic tale of the Kuru dynasty.

------------ A year had passed, and the day that marked one of the happiest occasions of the Dwapar Yuga finally arrived.

Upon her husband's advice, Kunti once again utilized the divine mantra, this time summoning Devraj Indra. The god blessed her with a son of unparalleled valor, possessing the strength of Vajra, whose resolve remained unshakeable even in the direst of circumstances. This extraordinary child was named 'Arjun'.

Witnessing Madri's altered demeanor and her evident sense of loss, Kunti chose to share the mantra with her. Fueled by her desire to have twins, Madri called upon the Ashvini Devs.

Ashvini Natsya bestowed upon her a son of remarkable beauty, destined to be known as the most handsome man of his time, and he was christened 'Nakul'. Ashvini Darsa blessed her with a son renowned for his wisdom, giving him the name 'Sahdev'.

With the arrival of five sons, Maharaj Pandu's days were no longer shrouded in loneliness and melancholy. His heart was filled with joy as he spent time with his sons, regaling them with stories. The children, gathered around him, listened with rapt attention as he spun tales, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

As time passed cheerfully, the search for the eldest prince continued, but to no avail. The absence of their eldest son remained a source of persistent concern for the royal family.



The sun was setting behind the trees, casting long shadows on the ground. Vasusen walked beside his father, clutching his bow and arrows. He felt a surge of excitement and nervousness as they approached the ashram of Dronacharya, the famed teacher of archery and warfare. He had heard stories of his prowess and skill, and he hoped that he would accept him as a student.

He had always dreamed of becoming an archer, ever since he saw the soldiers practicing in the royal palace. He had secretly watched them from a distance, imitating their movements and gestures. He had also learned from other children who boasted of their training, challenging them to duels and often winning. He had practiced every day, with or without his father's permission, honing his aim and reflexes.

He had begged his father to let him learn archery and other martial arts, but his father had always refused. He had told him that a charioteer's son had no business in learning warfare, that it was not his place or duty. He had tried to divert his attention to other things, like driving a chariot or reading scriptures. But Vasusen had remained stubborn and persistent, arguing and pleading with his father. This had caused a rift between them, and Vasusen had grown closer to his mother, who understood his passion and supported him.

One fine day, his father had finally given in to his constant requests, and had agreed to take him to Dronacharya's ashram. Vasusen had been overjoyed, thinking that his father had finally accepted his wish. He had packed his bow and arrows, and had followed his father eagerly.

They reached the ashram, and were greeted by Dronacharya himself. He was a tall and lean man, with a long beard and piercing eyes. He wore a simple white robe and a turban, and carried a bow and a quiver on his back. He looked at them with curiosity and kindness.

Dronacharya greeted them warmly.

Dron :- Welcome, Adhirath susen. Is everything fine at the royal palace ? Who is this boy with you ?

Adhirath bowed respectfully.

Adhirath :- Everything is well and peaceful, acharya. This is my son, Vasusen.



Vasusen stepped forward and touched Dronacharya's feet. He felt a thrill of awe and reverence, as he looked up at the legendary teacher.

Dronacharya smiled at the boy.

Dron :- Kalyan ho vatsya. Your face has glow of sun, Adhirath, you should name him Karn. Now tell me why you came here.

Adhirath hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

Adhirath :- Acharya, my son wants to become an archer. I tried all the ways to dissuade him, but he stays adamant that he wants to learn. He practices every day, though on his own, but he is quite good at it. You can take his test, acharya. I brought him here with some hope.

Dronacharya looked at Adhirath with surprise and pity. He knew that Adhirath was a loyal and humble charioteer, who served the king faithfully. He had also sensed the boy's potential, and had wondered what fate had in store for him.

But he also knew that he could not teach the boy, as he had made a vow to only teach the kshatriyas and the royal princes. He had made this vow to please his patron, King Dhritarashtra, who had granted him the land and the resources to build his ashram. He had also made this vow to protect his students, who were the sons of the king and his brothers. He did not want to create a rival for them, who could challenge their supremacy and authority.

He sighed deeply and stood up, his shoulders slumping. He clasped his hands behind his back, as if to restrain himself from saying something he might regret. He spoke in a gentle but firm voice.

Dron :- I... am sorry Adhirath, this ashram... is only for kshatriyas or royal princes and your son is neither of them. And I don't think it'd be much approved in Hastinapur, try making him a charioteer, I'm sure one day he will be among the foremost of them.

Vasusen felt a surge of anger and disappointment, as he heard Dronacharya's words. He could not accept that his birth and status would prevent him from learning what he loved. He could not bear the thought of giving up his dream, and living a life of servitude and mediocrity.

He looked at Dronacharya with defiance and determination. He spoke in a loud and clear voice, not caring about the consequences.

Karn :- Acharya, it is my life, and I should be the one to decide what I want to be. Why should I be denied the opportunity to learn, just because of my birth ? Why should I be bound by the rules and norms of a society, that does not value me or my talents ? Why should I follow the path that others have chosen for me, when I have a different vision and goal ?

Adhirath was shocked and ashamed by his son's words. He tried to silence him, and apologize to Dronacharya.

Adhirath :- Vasu!! is this the way to talk to elders. Have you forgotten your manners and your place ? I am sorry, acharya, he is still a kid. He does not know what he is saying. Please forgive him.

But Vasusen did not listen to his father. He continued to challenge Dronacharya, and asked him a question that no one had ever dared to ask him before.

Karn :- I apologise pitashree, but I have a habit of speaking the truth. Acharya, am I allowed to ask a question.

Dron :- Yes, of course.

Karn :- Who is that boy sitting there ?

He pointed towards a boy, roughly a few years younger, sitting under a tree playing with a small bow and arrows. He had a fair complexion and curly hair, and wore a simple white robe. He looked bored and restless, as he shot arrows at a target.

Dronacharya looked at Vasusen with narrowed eyes, surprised by the unexpected question.

Dron :- He is my son, Ashwatthama.

Karn :- He is neither a royal prince nor a kshatriya, then how is he eligible for this ashram ?

Dron :- He is not a student like the others, he is a part of this ashram. He is also my assistant, and he helps me in teaching and managing the ashram.

Vasusen was not satisfied by Dronacharya's answer.

Adhirath :- Vasu, shut up for a moment....

He opened his mouth to say something, but Vasusen did not wait for his reply. He had made up his mind, and he had one last thing to say to Dronacharya. He made a vow that would change his life and the course of history.

Karn :- Acharya, if you think being a charioteer's son, I am not fit for this! then today I promise you, I will come back, I will become a warrior that you will not be able to train any of your student well enough to defeat me in a straight battle. I vow to become the greatest archer of aryavarth.

Saying so, he angrily went away, stomping his foot loudly. Dronacharya stood rooted to his place for some moments, before a smile broke out on his face.

Adhirath :- I... I am really... really sorry for my son's behaviour acharya, he is still a kid, I will make him understand.

Dron :- No need to be sorry, you should be happy to be blessed with this son, one day he will prove his words to be true, all you have to do is to give him the freedom.

Adhirath felt skeptical but left from there, not before greeting the sage one last time.



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