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UNKNOWN POV :-

The dense foliage of the Andhaka forest loomed overhead, casting shadows that seemed to dance with sinister intent. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

Andhaka -- a cursed land, feared and avoided by all who knew of its existence. Legends whispered of the malevolent curse laid upon it by the Trimurti themselves, a wasteland shunned by mortals, gods, and demons alike. At the heart of this foreboding forest stood an enigmatic palace-an edifice of shadows and secrets, once hidden by the veil of invisibility. For ages, its grandeur remained unseen, its secrets locked away from prying gazes. But now, a subtle shift had occurred-the palace was visible again, a change that heralded the dawn of a new era.

As I ventured deeper into the heart of the forest, my mind drifted back to the day I first encountered him - the cloaked figure whose presence commanded both fear and awe. I still remember that day vividly. He had come to my palace in Magadha, an uninvited guest with a chilling aura. At first, I thought it was a chance meeting, but now I doubt it. Was it destiny that led him to me, to make me his ally? Or was there some dark fate steering our paths together?

The encounter with the cloaked figure had been a turning point, a fateful meeting that would forever alter the course of my destiny. Recalling that fateful day, the weight of my decision pressed heavily upon my shoulders.

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FLASHBACK START

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In the heart of the majestic Magadha Kingdom, I, Jarasandha, rule with a firm hand, my kingdom thriving under my command. From the towering citadel of Rajagriha, I oversee the bustling streets below, where my people go about their daily lives, blissfully unaware of the darkness that looms on the horizon.

It was night in the palace courtyard, the moon casting an eerie glow over the grand architecture. A mysterious figure emerged from the darkness-a cloaked stranger, his intentions veiled in secrecy. His sudden appearance sent a ripple of unease through the court, but I remained unfazed, my gaze steady as I regarded the newcomer.

"Greetings, King of Magadha," the stranger's voice rumbled through the courtyard, his words dripping with an air of authority. "I come seeking an alliance, a pact that will benefit us both."

I raised an eyebrow, studying the stranger with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "And why should I ally myself with one whose face remains hidden in shadow?" I challenged, my voice firm.

The cloaked figure inclined his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Because, King of Magadha, I offer you power beyond your wildest dreams," he replied, his voice laced with an irresistible allure.

I laughed, my voice echoing through the courtyard. "Who are you? Do you know who I am?" I challenged, my eyes narrowing with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

The cloaked figure's smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. "Indeed, I know exactly who you are, Jarasandha. And you, too, will come to know me." He took a step closer, the shadows seeming to cling to him like a second skin. "Do you know the tale of Andhaka Van? I was the one imprisoned there."

My laughter faded, replaced by a sudden realization that struck me like a bolt of lightning. "Andhaka Van?" I repeated, my voice trembling with disbelief. "You claim to be the one imprisoned there? You are but a myth, a legend whispered in the shadows. How can you be real?"

The cloaked figure's smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Believe what you will, King of Magadha," he replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "But know this: I am very much real."

My mind reeled with the implications of his words, my disbelief warring with a growing sense of fear. "Leave," I commanded, my voice wavering with uncertainty. "I will not ally myself with someone I do not trust."

The cloaked figure's smirk fades, replaced by a cold glimmer of determination. "Then you are of no use to me," he declares, his voice icy with contempt. "Perhaps it is time to end this charade once and for all."

But instead of cowering in fear, I burst into laughter - a hearty, booming laugh that echoes through the chamber, startling even myself.

"You think you can kill me? How?" I scoff, my laughter ringing with defiance. "I am Jarasandha, King of Magadha, born with a destiny that cannot be thwarted by the likes of you!"

He had merely smiled, a cold, calculating smile. "You dare to defy me?" he snarls, his patience wearing thin. "Very well, King of Magadha. You leave me no choice."

With a flick gesture of his hand, the cloaked figure unleashed his power, a dark energy that pulsed through the air with an undeniable force. "Kneel," he commanded, his voice carrying the weight of his authority.

Against my will, I sank to my knees, I was compelled to kneel before him, my body obeying his command against my will. It was a stark reminder of the darkness that lurked within, a force to be reckoned with and obeyed without question.

"What have you done to me?" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and anger. "Why do I obey your commands against my will?"

The cloaked figure's smirk returns, a cruel twist of his lips. "You will obey because I command it," he sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "And if you value your life, you will do as I say."

"You may have controlled my body," I retort, my voice trembling with defiance, "but you can never kill me. No one knows how to kill me."

The cloaked figure's eyes narrow, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Is that so?" he muses, his tone tinged with amusement. "Then perhaps you can enlighten me. Tell me, King of Magadha, how does one kill a man who is born with a destiny that cannot be thwarted?"

"There is only one way to kill me," I reply, my voice steady despite the fear that gnaws at my heart. "But I will never reveal it to you."

The cloaked figure's smirk widens, a dark glimmer of anticipation dancing in his eyes. "Very well, King of Magadha," he purrs, his voice dripping with malice. "Then I shall enjoy watching you squirm as I unravel the mystery of your demise."

And with those ominous words hanging in the air, I, Jarasandha, King of Magadha, am plunged into a nightmare from which there is no escape.

The cloaked figure, his powers exerting a subtle influence over Jarasandha's will, pressed on with relentless determination. "You will tell me," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument. "You will tell me everything."

Jarasandha hesitated, the memories of his past swirling in his mind like specters from a forgotten time. But under the cloaked figure's relentless gaze, he found himself compelled to speak, each word heavy with the weight of ancient secrets.

"I was born of two halves," Jarasandha began, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "My father, King Brihadratha, had two wives, each longing for a child. The sage Chandakaushika visited his kingdom and gave fruit to the king as a boon. The king divided the fruit equally between both of his wives. Soon, both wives became pregnant and gave birth to two halves of a human body. My father, horrified by the unnatural birth, ordered that the halves be cast away."

As he spoke, Jarasandha could feel the cloaked figure's interest intensify, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic tale of Jarasandha's birth.

"And so," Jarasandha continued, his voice growing somber, "I was left to die in the forest, abandoned by my own father. But An asuri named Jara found the two halves and picked up one with her right hand, one with her left, holding each piece in her palm. When she brought both of her palms together, the two pieces joined, becoming a living child, breathing life into me once more."

As the words spilled from his lips, Jarasandha felt a pang of despair grip his heart. He had sworn never to reveal the secret of his vulnerability, yet here he was, divulging it under the influence of the cloaked figure's dark powers.

The stranger listened intently, his expression a mask of calculated intrigue. "Interesting," he mused, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Very interesting indeed. But tell me, how can you be killed?"

Jarasandha recoiled at the question, his mind racing with a tumult of conflicting emotions. "Please... I... I don't want to say," he stammered, his words tinged with fear and uncertainty.

But the cloaked figure, undeterred by Jarasandha's reluctance, pressed on with relentless determination. "You will tell me," he insisted, his voice carrying the weight of his dark authority. "You will tell me how to end your existence."

With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, Jarasandha relented, his resolve crumbling in the face of the cloaked figure's overpowering will. "I can only be killed," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "by being split into two halves and then thrown in opposite directions, ensuring that I can never be rejoined."

As the words left his lips, Jarasandha felt a cold dread settle over him like a shroud, his secret vulnerability laid bare before the cloaked figure's insatiable hunger for power.

The cloaked figure's eyes gleamed with malevolent triumph as he stood before jarasandh, his dark powers swirling around him like a tempest of shadows. He grabs Jarasandha by the waist and begins to tear him apart from the middle, where he was joined together. He uses his strength to rip apart Jarasandha's body at the exact point where the demoness had joined the halves at birth.

Jarasandh watched in horror as his body was rent asunder, split into two halves by the cloaked figure's unstoppable might. His screams of agony echoed through the chamber, a chilling testament to the depths of his suffering.

"Did he say I have to throw in opposite directions? Should I ask him to confirm" he mused, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

As jarasandh writhed in torment, his body torn asunder by the cloaked figure, a strange and miraculous thing occurred. The severed halves of his body began to move on their own accord, drawn inexcorably toward one another as if pulled by some unseen force.

With a sickening squelch, the two halves collided, melding back together with a grotesque inevitability. Jarasandha's body reformed before the antagonist's eyes , whole once more but trembling with fear and disbelief.

The cloaked figure's laughter filled he chamber, a chilling cacophony that sent shivers down jarasandha's spine. "Did you truly believe you could defy me?" He taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You are nothing but a puppet in my hands, a pawn to be used and discarded at my whim."

Jarasandha's heart raced with a mixture of dread and despair as he realised the true extent of the cloaked figure's power. He was nothing more than a plaything, a pawn in a game of cosmic propotions, his fate bound to the whims of a being whose dark ambitions knew no bounds.

"Please don't kill me..." With my defiance shattered and my will subjugated, I find myself at the mercy of the cloaked figure, my fate now inexorably linked to his dark ambitions.

"Will you be my ally, King of Magadha?" he asks, his voice mocking and triumphant. "Or shall I end you here and now?"

Fear courses through my veins as I weigh my options, my mind racing with desperation. In the end, there is only one choice to make-a choice born of necessity, not of strength.

"I will be your ally," I concede, my voice barely above a whisper. "I will do whatever you ask of me, if only to spare my life."

And so, with a pact forged in fear and desperation, I, Jarasandha, King of Magadha, bow before the cloaked figure, my fate now irrevocably bound to his dark and twisted will.

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FLASHBACK END

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JARASANDH'S POV :-

Now, as I stood before his palace once more, I couldn't help but feel the same fear and awe from that first encounter. The palace, no longer hidden, loomed ominously before me, its dark grandeur intimidating. I wondered how the cloaked figure would react to the news I brought. The fear and uncertainty gnawed at me, but I knew I had to proceed. I had agreed to serve him out of fear, but deep inside, I knew I must find a way to free myself from his grasp. Perhaps, I thought, if I ever find the child he seeks, I could use that knowledge against him. But for now, I would play the part of the loyal ally, biding my time and waiting for the moment to strike.

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As I approached the entrance to the palace, its towering obsidian gates seemed to leer down at me, as if mocking my resolve. With each step, the weight of my decision bore down on me, a constant reminder of the precarious path I had chosen.

Pushing open the heavy doors, I entered the dimly lit interior, the air thick with an otherworldly chill.

In the main chamber, I saw him - the cloaked figure - standing motionless by the window, his form shrouded in darkness. His presence exuded an aura of power and malevolence, sending shivers down my spine.

Drawing a deep breath, I approached him, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the chamber. As I neared, the cloaked figure turned slowly, his gaze piercing through the darkness to meet mine.

As I stood before him, a shiver ran down my spine, though I fought to maintain my composure. His presence exuded an aura of power and enigma, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in his presence.

Approaching with deliberate steps, the cloaked figure closed the distance, his movements calculated and commanding. Each step seemed to reverberate ominously, amplifying the tension that hung in the air like a heavy fog.

"Did you find the child with divine kawach kundal?" the cloaked figure asked.

"No," I hesitated before responding, my voice steady despite the apprehension gnawing at my insides. "Our efforts to locate the child with the divine kavach kundal have yielded no results thus far. The search continues, but it proves to be a challenging endeavor."

"No?" the cloaked figure's tone grew sharper, laced with anger and frustration. "Then why have you come here instead of finding the child? Are you wasting my time?"

I stammered, "I come bearing news." My hesitation betrayed the fear I felt. "I heard that the king and queen of Ayodhya had a daughter from a yagna." I paused, my eyes flickering with uncertainty. "The child is said to be a blessing of Lord Vishnu and Goddess Lakshmi."

"Interesting," the cloaked figure mused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A child blessed by Lord Vishnu."

"Do you want me to bring the child?" I inquired, my voice tentative.

"No need," the cloaked figure replied, a sinister smile creeping across his face. "I am very close to her. The Trimurti have imprisoned me, and I will not leave anything that is related to them. That child, a blessing of Lord Vishnu? She will suffer the consequences of what the Trimurti did to me. Let her grow, and she will come to me. I will make sure of that."

The cloaked figure regarded me with an intensity that seemed to strip away any pretense, as if he could peer into the depths of my soul and uncover the truths hidden within.

"And what of the other matter?" he inquired, his tone betraying a hint of impatience. "Have you heard anything related to the child who is born with Mahadev's essence, mentioned in the prophecy?"

I hesitated before responding. "No," I murmured.

"No?" the cloaked figure's voice rose with impatience. "It's already been four years since my release. How can you not find anything about one child?"

"Maybe we cannot find him no matter how much we try, just like Mahadev said to you......" I said nervously.

The cloaked figure's anger flared. "I don't care! I can only be killed by Mahadev's ansh, and I have to find him before he becomes strong."

I nodded fearfully. "I will try to find the child, Mahadev's ansh - "

He grabbed me by the neck. "FIND THE CHILD WITH THE DIVINE KAWACH KUNDAL FIRST!!!! HE IS A BIGGER THREAT TO ME THAN MAHADEV'S ANSH."

I nodded desperately as I was released, coughing.

As Jarasandh turned to leave, his gaze lingered on the cloaked figure, whose demeanor exuded both arrogance and desperation.

"This arrogance of yours is the reason you are imprisoned," Jarasandh thought to himself, a hint of disdain creeping into his thoughts. "You dare to challenge destiny itself."

A smirk played on Jarasandh's lips as he thought about the cloaked figure's futile attempts to rewrite fate. "Let him find the child," he mused silently. "Only then will he realize the true extent of his folly. Perhaps then he'll understand that destiny cannot be bent to one's will so easily."

With a final glance at the cloaked figure, who seemed lost in contemplation, Jarasandh turned away, his resolve strengthened. He would play his part as the loyal ally, but deep down, he knew that his own ambitions would eventually lead him down a different path.

As Jarasandh hurriedly exited the chamber, his steps echoing faintly through the dim corridors, the cloaked figure remained rooted by the window, his gaze locked onto the distant horizon. A heavy silence enveloped the room once more, allowing the memories of a distant past to resurface, stirring within the cloaked figure's mind.

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FLASHBACK: THE IMPRISONMENT OF THE CLOAKED FIGURE

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"Great Trimurti," the cloaked figure began, his voice trembling with desperation, "I seek a boon to thwart the prophecy that foretells my demise. I wish that the child destined to carry Mahadev's essence can only be born if certain conditions are met....."

In response to the cloaked figure's plea, Brahma, the creator, spoke first, his voice resonating with wisdom and authority. "You seek to alter the course of destiny. However, meddling with fate comes with serious consequences."

Vishnu, the preserver, added his voice to the discussion, his words measured and contemplative. "Indeed, by imposing such conditions that hinder the birth of the child destined to carry Mahadev's essence, you risk disrupting the Balance of existence. Are you prepared to bear the consequences of such a request?"

Finally, Mahadev, the destroyer, weighed in on the matter, his presence a testament to the cosmic forces at play. "You stand at the precipice of destiny," he warned, "but tread carefully. If you try to change what's meant to happen, it might cause problems you didn't expect. Your desire to alter the course of fate may lead to unintended consequences. The path you seek to forge is fraught with peril, and the repercussions of your actions may echo throughout eternity."

Undeterred by the Trimurti's warnings, the cloaked figure stood firm, his demeanor tinged with arrogance. "I seek to defy no one but destiny itself," he proclaimed boldly. "If the prophecy spells my doom, then I shall rewrite its pages with my own hand!"

The Trimurti exchanged stern glances, their divine anger simmering just beneath the surface. With solemn determination, they pronounced their judgment. "So be it," they declared, their voices resonating with divine authority. "Your wish shall be granted, but your fate shall be bound to the unfolding of the prophecy."

With a swift motion of their hands, divine chains materialized, binding the cloaked figure in place. At the sight of the divine chains holding him, the cloaked figure's demeanor shifted, his confidence waned as disbelief washed over him. "What?" he exclaimed, struggling against the invisible bonds that ensnared him. "What folly is this? Release me at once!" he demanded, struggling against the invisible bonds that ensnared him.

But his cries went unanswered, for the Trimurti remained steadfast. Vishnu decreed, "If you seek to rewrite destiny, then face the consequences of your arrogance."

Brahma, the creator, said, "We shall grant you your final boon, but your arrogance shall not go unpunished. You shall remain imprisoned within your own palace. Your palace and all its splendor will be rendered invisible, unseen by mortals, gods, and Asuras alike."

Vishnu, the preserver, added, "The lands surrounding your palace shall be transformed into a cursed wasteland, shunned by mortals, gods, and Asuras alike. This cursed forest shall be known as Andhaka, a domain of shadows where none dare tread."

Shiva, the destroyer, concluded with a stern warning, "Your name and deeds shall become myth, a cautionary tale whispered among the realms, a tale for all who dare to challenge the will of the divine. Only when the prophecy begins to unfold, signaling the birth of the child bearing my essence, shall your captivity be lifted."

With a final wave of their hands, the Trimurti sealed the cloaked figure's fate, consigning him to an eternity of solitude and despair. As their divine pronouncements faded into the ether, THE ONCE-PROUD ASURA KING found himself bound by the divine chains.

The Divine chains tightened around the cloaked figure, binding him in a grip of unyielding cosmic energy. Enraged by his imprisonment, the cloaked figure struggled against the chains, his voice echoing with righteous fury.

"Release me!" he bellowed, his words laced with venomous defiance. "You dare to imprison me like an animal? I demand my freedom!"

But his cries fell upon deaf ears, for the Trimurti remained steadfast in their judgment, their expressions unmoved by his outburst. Mahadev, however, chose to address the cloaked figure's anger, his voice a thunderous echo that reverberated through the celestial court.

"Your arrogance knows no bounds," Mahadev intoned, his tone tinged with a hint of divine wrath. "You seek to defy not only destiny but the very fabric of cosmic order. Know this: EVEN IF THE CHILD WITH MY ESSENCE WERE TO BE BORN, HE WOULD REMAIN HIDDEN FROM YOUR EYES, SHIELDED BY THE VEIL OF MY DIVINE PROTECTION."

And thus, the cloaked figure found himself imprisoned within his own palace, hidden from mortal eyes, his fate entwined with the threads of destiny he dared to challenge.

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FLASHBACK ENDS

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PRESENT -- ANDHAKA

As the memory faded, the cloaked figure's eyes hardened with determination. The memory of his punishment, of the divine judgment that had sealed his fate, burned in the cloaked figure's mind as he stood in the now visible palace, his heart filled with dark resolve. He would find the child, the one who posed a threat to him, and ensure that destiny itself bowed to his will.

"The Trimurti will regret the day they imprisoned me," he vowed silently.

The future held many uncertainties, but of one thing he was certain: the child blessed by Lord Vishnu, born in Ayodhya, would come to know the full extent of his wrath. He would ensure that the child of Ayodhya's king would suffer the consequences of the Trimurti's actions. The wheels of fate had begun to turn, and nothing would stand in his way.

He turned away from the window, his thoughts a storm of anger and anticipation. "Let the game begin," he whispered, his voice a whisper of malice.

With each step, he plotted his next move, his mind a tempest of anger and anticipation. The stage was set, and he would stop at nothing to claim victory in the cosmic game of power and prophecy.

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Pandu stood before Gandhari's chamber, his hand hovering near the door. He hesitated, feeling a mix of reverence and uncertainty. This moment held great significance for him; seeking Gandhari's counsel before embarking on his journey to Kuntibhoj was not merely a formality but a heartfelt necessity. Taking a deep breath, he finally raised his hand and gently knocked.

"Bhabhi Shree?" he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with respect for the woman inside.

Gandhari, seated in quiet meditation, turned her head towards the door. "Come in, Pandu," she responded warmly.

Pandu entered the chamber, his steps hesitant yet purposeful. He noticed the serene atmosphere, with Gandhari sitting in front of a small altar, her eyes covered by the blindfold she had worn since her marriage.

"Bhabhi Shree, may I speak with you alone before I leave for Kuntibhoj?" he asked, his voice tinged with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability.

Gandhari gestured for him to sit beside her. "Of course, Maharaj, you don't need to ask for my permission," she replied teasingly, using the title just to see his reaction.

"Bhabhi Shree!!! Don't call me Maharaj, please," Pandu protested with a light laugh, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

Gandhari smiled at his reaction. She gestured for him to sit beside her. "You know you can always speak your heart to me."

Pandu settled beside her, his face reflecting a mix of thoughts. "Bhabhi Shree," he began, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern, "I have often wondered, You must have had dreams for your life and marriage. Yet, you blindfolded yourself willingly on your wedding day. And then, there is the matter of Karna. How did you make such decisions?"

Gandhari's serene smile never wavered. "Pandu, like every girl, I too had dreams about my life and marriage. When I first learned of your Jyesth and his blindness, I felt it was perhaps my destiny. My decision to blindfold myself was to show my devotion and loyalty to your brother. I chose to share in his darkness, to walk beside him as his equal, rather than live a life of privilege and sight without him. It was not due to any external pressure; it was a decision born out of love and respect. As for Karna, he is indeed the greatest blessing in my life. Accepting Karna was a decision I made as a mother."

Gandhari's expression softened as she paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "When I say that accepting Karna was a decision I made as a mother, I mean that I chose to treat Karna as my own son. Despite not being his biological mother, I took on the responsibility of caring for him, nurturing him, and guiding him with all the love and affection that a mother would provide. My decision was driven by maternal instincts, as I saw in Karna a child who needed a mother's care and protection. So, I embraced him wholeheartedly, offering him the same love and support that I would give to my own children."

Pandu listened intently, deeply moved by her words. "Bhabhi Shree, now that I have been made king instead of Jyesth, do you not feel sad or any regret? You could have been the queen of Hastinapur if jyesth bhrata is King."

Gandhari's expression remained calm and thoughtful. "Pandu, I have always desired to be part of a family where I am respected and loved. Here, in the Kuruvansh, I am treated as a daughter, not just a daughter-in-law. My wish has been fulfilled beyond measure. Being the queen is not what defines my happiness. It is the love and respect I receive from my family that truly matters."

Pandu felt a wave of gratitude and respect for Gandhari. "Bhabhi Shree, I seek your advice as I leave for Kuntibhoj. What should I look for in a life partner?"

Gandhari's eyes softened with maternal affection. "Pandu, look for a partner who will stand by you through life's trials and joys, someone who will be a true companion and support you as you navigate your duties and responsibilities. Seek a partner with a kind heart, strength of character, and a willingness to share in your dreams and burdens."

Pandu nodded thoughtfully, reflecting on her words. "Thank you, Bhabhi Shree. Your words resonate deeply with me."

Gandhari reached out, gently placing her hand on his. "Pandu, remember that you are not just my brother-in-law; you are like a son to me. Trust in yourself, and follow your heart."

Pandu felt a deep sense of comfort and reassurance. "Bhabhi Shree, you understand me like a mother understands her child. Your blessings give me the strength to face this new chapter in my life."

Gandhari smiled warmly. "Then consider me as your mother, Pandu. Bhabhi is equal to a mother, and I am here for you always."

Feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude, Pandu bowed his head respectfully. "Ji, Bhabhi Ma, thank you for your blessings."

Gandhari placed her hands on his head in a gesture of blessing. "May you find a worthy partner and bring a sister to me soon. You have my blessings, and may your journey be fruitful."

Pandu rose, his heart lighter and his spirit fortified by Gandhari's words and blessings. "I will, Bhabhi Ma. Thank you for everything."

With a final bow, he left her chamber, his mind clear and his purpose resolute as he prepared to embark on his journey to Kuntibhoj, ready to embrace whatever destiny awaited him.

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The kingdom of Kuntibhoj was adorned with splendor and grandeur, preparing for the swayamvar of Princess Kunti. The streets buzzed with activity, adorned with colorful decorations, and filled with the excitement of visiting princes and kings from neighboring realms. Amidst the festivities, the palace stood as a beacon of celebration, its walls echoing the anticipation of the forthcoming event.

Away from the bustling preparations, two figures stood at the serene riverbank. One, a woman of royal bearing, gazed intently at the water, her thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. The other, a close companion named Priyamvada, watched her with concern, sensing the weight of her silent contemplation.

"Kunti, it's your swayamvar today. You should be getting ready, not standing here. Let's go," Priyamvada urged gently, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them.

Princess Kunti turned to her friend, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and longing. "Sakhi, this is the place where I left my son. It has already been four years. Where do you think he is now? Under what circumstances is he growing up?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion. "I-"

She was abruptly cut off by Priyamvada, who interjected with a mixture of sympathy and admonishment. "Kunti, you should forget about Karna."

Kunti's eyes flared with anger, her pain palpable. "Priyamvada! How can you say something like that? He is my son. How can I forget the child I carried for nine months?"

With a comforting gesture, Priyamvada placed a hand on Kunti's shoulder, her voice soft but resolute. "You are going to start a new life, Kunti. Whatever happened is your past. You should forget about Karna as your mistake."

Kunti's anger ebbed, replaced by a profound sense of grief and regret. "My son is not a mistake. Yes, I was curious to test the mantra, but he is not a mistake," she insisted, her voice laced with anguish. "It's all my fault. If only I had been strong and accepted him instead of abandoning him. What I did is no less than a sin..."

Priyamvada sighed, her expression mirroring Kunti's sorrow. "There is no use in thinking about what has already happened, Kunti. You should focus on your present and your future."

With a gentle touch, Priyamvada took Kunti's hand, guiding her away from the riverbank. Kunti cast one last longing glance over her shoulder, her heart heavy with the weight of her unspoken regrets. "I hope wherever you are, you are safe and have a family who loves you," she whispered, a silent prayer carried away by the gentle breeze.

As they made their way back towards the palace, the preparations for the swayamvar continued unabated, the grandeur of the occasion contrasting starkly with the private sorrow of a mother who could never forget her child.

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The grand hall of the Kuntibhoj Palace was abuzz with anticipation. Kings and princes from far and wide had gathered, each hoping to win the hand of the beautiful and virtuous Princess Kunti. The atmosphere was charged with excitement as the guests awaited the commencement of the swayamvar.

King Kuntibhoj, regal and dignified, rose from his seat beside Kunti and addressed the assembly. His voice carried the weight of authority and the warmth of hospitality.

"Esteemed guests, noble kings, and valiant princes," he began, his voice resonating through the hall, "I welcome you all to this grand occasion, the swayamvar of my beloved daughter, Princess Kunti. It is an honor to have you here in the kingdom of Kuntibhoj. Your presence graces this event and brings us immense joy."

The assembled suitors listened intently, their attention focused on the king. King Kuntibhoj continued, "As you all know, the swayamvar is a revered tradition, a moment where my daughter, Kunti, will choose her life partner. In accordance with her wishes, she will pose a question to you. The one whose answer pleases her the most shall be chosen as her husband."

Murmurs of approval and nods of understanding swept through the hall as the suitors prepared themselves for the forthcoming challenge.

King Kuntibhoj turned to Kunti, his eyes filled with paternal pride and affection. "Putri," he said gently, "you may ask your question."

Kunti, poised and graceful, rose from her seat. She cast a serene glance over the assembled suitors, her eyes lingering momentarily on Maharaj Pandu, who stood tall and composed. Taking a deep breath, she addressed the suitors.

"I have but one question for you. In your response, I seek not only wisdom but also a reflection of your heart and character." Kunti began, her voice clear and melodious,

She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. The hall was silent, every eye on her, every ear attuned to her next words.

"If one commits a grave mistake in their past, a mistake that haunts them and brings them great sorrow, what is the path to redemption and inner peace?"

The suitors exchanged thoughtful glances, each pondering the profound question. The silence in the hall was palpable as they prepared their responses, understanding the gravity of the question posed by Princess Kunti. Each knew that their answer would reveal their understanding of forgiveness, responsibility, and the human condition, and it would determine who would win the heart of the princess.

The hall remained silent as the suitors contemplated Princess Kunti's profound question. One by one, they began to step forward to offer their answers.

The first to speak was a king from a distant land. He was known for his military prowess and strategic acumen. Bowing respectfully, he addressed Kunti.

"Princess Kunti," he began, "to atone for a grave mistake, one must first ensure that such a mistake is never repeated. Strengthen your resolve, build your defenses, and guard against the weaknesses that led to the mistake in the first place. This way, you ensure that the same error is not committed again."

Kunti listened politely but remained expressionless. She nodded slightly, signaling for the next suitor.

A prince from a neighboring kingdom stepped forward. He was renowned for his wealth and diplomatic skills.

"Princess Kunti," he said, "the path to redemption lies in amassing enough power and influence to overshadow any past mistakes. When you achieve great success, your past errors become insignificant compared to your current accomplishments. Focus on your future and let your victories erase your past."

Again, Kunti nodded, her face revealing nothing of her thoughts. The suitors' answers so far had been pragmatic, but they lacked the depth of understanding she sought.

Finally, Maharaj Pandu of Hastinapur stepped forward. His presence commanded respect, and his demeanor was calm and thoughtful.

"Princess Kunti," he began, his voice steady and sincere, "redemption for a grave mistake lies not in power or avoiding future errors, but in facing the consequences of one's actions and seeking to make amends."

He paused, ensuring that his words resonated with the assembled audience.

"To find inner peace, one must first acknowledge the mistake and accept responsibility for it. True redemption comes from a heartfelt desire to make things right, not just for oneself but for those affected by the mistake. It involves seeking forgiveness from those who were wronged and taking tangible steps to rectify the harm caused. It is through this journey of acceptance, repentance, and restitution that one can hope to achieve inner peace."

Kunti's eyes softened as she listened to Pandu's answer. His words echoed her own feelings of regret and the desire for atonement. There was a deep sincerity and wisdom in his response that touched her heart.

King Kuntibhoj, observing his daughter's reaction, sensed that Pandu's answer had resonated with her. He looked at Kunti, who gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

King Kuntibhoj rose to address the assembly once more. "Noble suitors, you have all given your answers with thought and sincerity. However, it is clear that one answer has truly touched the heart of my daughter."

He turned to Pandu. "Maharaj Pandu of Hastinapur, your understanding of redemption and the path to inner peace has impressed my daughter. Therefore, it is you who shall have the honor of marrying my daughter, Princess Kunti."

The hall erupted in applause, and Pandu bowed deeply, gratitude and honor shining in his eyes. Kunti's heart felt lighter, knowing she had chosen a partner who understood the depths of her question and, perhaps, the depths of her soul.

As Pandu and Kunti exchanged a meaningful glance, a sense of serenity washed over them, as if their souls had found a connection that transcended words. In that moment, amidst the grandeur of the palace and the jubilation of the guests, they both knew that they were destined to embark on a journey together, bound not just by marriage but by understanding, empathy, and the shared pursuit of inner peace and redemption.

The swayamvar concluded with a feast fit for royalty, celebrating the union of Pandu and Kunti and the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. As the festivities continued long into the night, the palace resonated with laughter, music, and the promise of a future filled with love and harmony.

The next day, Princess Kunti and Maharaj Pandu prepared to depart for Hastinapur.

Turning towards Pandu, King Kuntibhoj said, "Maharaj Pandu, I entrust to you the care and well-being of my beloved daughter. May you cherish her as your equal, honor her as your companion, and protect her with all the strength and valor befitting a king."

Pandu, his expression one of humility and gratitude, bowed deeply before the king. "Maharaj," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity, "I vow to uphold the honor and dignity of Princess Kunti, to stand by her side through all trials and triumphs, and to love her with all my heart."

King Kuntibhoj smiled, his heart filled with confidence in the union he had forged. "May the blessings of the gods be upon you both," he said, his voice carrying the weight of generations of tradition and legacy. "May your union bring prosperity and joy to our kingdoms, and may your love endure through all the seasons of life."

Standing amidst the palace courtyard, Kunti approached Pandu with a gentle resolve in her eyes.

"Arya," she began, her voice soft yet determined, "may I join you on the chariot to Hastinapur?"

Pandu's eyes met hers with understanding and warmth. "Of course, Kunti. If it is your desire to ride together, then together we shall go. It would be an honor to have you by my side."

With a grateful smile, Kunti bid farewell to her father and the familiar surroundings of her childhood home. As she approached the awaiting chariot, Pandu extended his hand in a silent invitation. Kunti accepted, her heart buoyed by a sense of anticipation for the journey ahead.

Settling into their seats, a sense of camaraderie and companionship enveloped them, setting the tone for the journey that lay ahead.

With a gentle nod from Pandu, the chariot began its journey towards Hastinapur, carrying with it the hopes and dreams of two souls bound together by fate and destiny.

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As the chariot made its way towards Hastinapur, the rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth filled the air, creating a tranquil backdrop for Kunti's contemplation. She couldn't shake off the resonance of Pandu's words, his response during the swayamvar echoing in her mind.

Lost in thought, Kunti found herself revisiting the memories she had chosen to bury deep within her heart - the memories of a child she had brought into the world but had chosen to let go. She wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between the desire to confide in Pandu and the fear and risk of shattering the fragile bond they were beginning to build by exposing the darkest chapter if her life.

Beside her, Pandu remained silent, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil of her thoughts. Would Pandu understand the weight of her past, the burden she carried in her heart? His answer had hinted at a path to redemption through acceptance, but would he extend that grace to her own mistakes?

As the chariot continued its journey, Kunti's gaze drifted to Pandu, her heart heavy with indecision. The temptation to confide in him warred with the fear of rejection, leaving her torn between the longing for absolution and the dread of judgment. The question lingered in her mind, echoing like a whisper on the wind: should she reveal the truth and risk everything, or keep her secret hidden and hope for a future unmarred by the shadows of her past?

As the chariot made its way towards Hastinapur, Pandu felt the need to break the silence between them. He decided to share with Kunti about the royal family members of Hastinapur, especially Aditya.

"Kunti," Pandu began, his voice tinged with fondness, "let me tell you about Aditya. He is the eldest son of my jyesth, Dhritarashtra, and my bhabhi shree, Gandhari. His presence itself brings joy to everyone around him."

Kunti listened attentively, her eyes reflecting the serene joy she felt. She watched Pandu's face closely, noticing how his eyes sparkled and his smile broadened as he spoke about Aditya.

"Aditya and I often prank Vidur," Pandu continued, chuckling. "Vidur is always our default target. Recently, something happened that put Aditya in a bit of a gloomy mood. To lift his spirits, I asked him if he wanted to play a prank on Vidur. Aditya said he had an idea but needed help from the kitchen staff. So, I told him to use my name to get whatever he needed."

Pandu's voice grew more animated as he recounted the tale. "Do you know what Aditya did?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "He had the kitchen staff make the sweets bitter instead of sweet and then told them to give these sweets to everyone in the royal sabha, saying I had specially ordered them."

Kunti couldn't help but smile, imagining the scene. Pandu's genuine love for Aditya was evident in every word he spoke.

"The brat played the prank on everyone except bhabhi shree," Pandu said, laughing. "He made sure she got the normal ones. When Tatshree found out, he made me eat all those bitter sweets as punishment. And you know, Aditya was watching the whole thing, laughing his heart out. Just seeing him laugh, I decided to eat those bitter sweets. If bhabhi shree hadn't stopped me, I would have eaten them all without complaint."

As Pandu spoke, he seemed completely absorbed in his memories, his love and bond with Aditya shining through. He spoke without pause, lost in the joy of recalling those moments. Kunti watched him, her heart swelling with admiration and warmth. She saw the genuine affection Pandu had for Aditya, and it made her love for her husband deepen.

Kunti cleared her throat gently to get Pandu's attention. Pandu stopped mid-sentence and looked at her, smiling sheepishly. "Forgive me, Kunti," he said. "I did not realize I was talking non-stop."

Kunti smiled back, her eyes soft. "Arya, it seems you love this child Aditya very much. I can see it when you talk about him."

Pandu nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes, Kunti. I love him like my son. Even if he is the eldest son of jyesth and bhabhi shree, I still consider him my son. I am sure you will love him too when you meet him."

"How old is he?" Kunti asked, curiosity and warmth in her voice.

"He is four," Pandu replied.

Hearing this, Kunti's thoughts drifted back to karna, whom she had abandoned after giving birth. Karna would also be four.. she thought. Her face momentarily clouded with sadness and regret.

Pandu noticed her sudden change in demeanor and gently asked, "Kunti, what happened?"

Kunti quickly composed herself and replied, "Nothing, Arya." She managed a small smile to reassure him.

Pandu continued, telling her about the rest of his family. He spoke of his brothers, his bhabhi shree, and the various dynamics within the family. As he finished, he said, "After I was made king, the first decision I made was to appoint Aditya as the yuvraj of Hastinapur. Kunti, I am sorry, but our children will not have the right to the throne as long as Aditya is there. He will be the one to be king after me, and if he does not want to be king, he will choose who will be the next king."

Pandu looked at Kunti, his eyes searching hers for her reaction. He wondered how she would feel about their children not being able to become yuvraj or king.

Kunti nodded understandingly and said, "Arya, if you made this decision, I am sure you thought about it a lot. I do not have any problem with jyesth and jiji's son being king after you."

Pandu's heart swelled with gratitude and love for Kunti, her understanding and support solidifying their bond even further.

The journey into Hastinapur unfolded with regal grandeur, each step resonating with the pulse of anticipation from its citizens. Pandu and Kunti, adorned with blessings and floral offerings, were greeted by a jubilant crowd, their arrival marking a new chapter in the kingdom's history.

As they approached the palace, Gandhari, guided by her mothers-in-law, extended a gracious welcome. The ceremonial rituals, steeped in tradition, symbolized the fusion of Pandu and Kunti's destinies with that of Hastinapur.

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The royal family of Hastinapur gathered in the family room to discuss Pandu's decision about his Digvijaya Yatra. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air. Dhritarashtra, Bhishma, Gandhari, and others sat in a semicircle, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation.

Pandu, standing at the center, began with a tone of determination. "As the newly crowned King of the Kuru Kingdom, it is my duty to prove myself. This Digvijaya Yatra is necessary to show our strength and solidify our alliances. It is essential for the stability and prosperity of our kingdom."

Bhishma, always a pillar of wisdom, nodded in agreement. "Pandu is right. The Digvijaya Yatra is a time-honored tradition that demonstrates the power and unity of a kingdom. It is crucial for a new king to establish his authority and gain the respect of neighboring kingdoms."

Vidur, known for his keen intellect and foresight, added, "This journey will not only reinforce our alliances but also send a clear message to our adversaries. Bhrata Pandu's leadership on this yatra will be a testament to Hastinapur's strength and resolve."

Dhritarashtra, his voice tinged with concern, broke the silence. "Pandu, I understand the importance of your mission, but have you considered Kunti's feelings in all this? How would she feel being left alone so soon after the wedding?"

Gandhari, her voice gentle yet firm, added, "Pandu, think of Kunti. You both are newly married, and leaving her like this might be difficult for her. She is new to Hastinapur and needs time to adjust to her new life and responsibilities."

Pandu looked at his jyesth and bhabhi ma, understanding their concerns. His resolve was clear but tempered with respect for the advice of his elders. "I understand your concerns, Tatshree, Jyesth, and Bhabhi ma. However, it is necessary for me to undertake this journey. As the newly crowned king, I must prove myself and establish our kingdom's strength and unity. The Digvijaya Yatra is not just a conquest; it is a statement of our resolve and our commitment to peace through strength."

Satyavati spoke up, her tone neutral and balanced. "Dhritarashtra and Gandhari have valid points, Pandu. Your duties are vital, but so is the stability of your new marriage. The duties of a king are paramount, but so is the well-being of your queen."

Before Pandu could respond, Kunti, who had been quietly listening, stepped forward with grace and determination. Her voice was calm and steady, filled with conviction. "Arya, I understand the importance of your duty as king. As your queen, I stand by your side in all decisions that benefit our kingdom. I support your decision to undertake the Digvijaya Yatra. I will remain here to fulfill my duties as queen and will adapt to my new role in Hastinapur."

The room fell silent as Pandu glanced gratefully at Kunti, his appreciation evident in his eyes. "Thank you, Kunti, for your understanding and support," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I promise to return soon and continue building our life together."

With the matter settled, it was decided that Pandu would leave for the Digvijaya Yatra in a few days, his resolve unwavering despite the challenges ahead. Bhishma's presence as his guide and protector added a layer of confidence to the mission.

A few days later...

In the quiet solitude of their chamber, Pandu and Kunti stood facing each other, the weight of impending separation heavy in the air. Pandu's expression was one of gratitude as he looked at Kunti, his eyes reflecting the depth of his appreciation for her unwavering support.

"Thank you, Kunti," Pandu began, his voice filled with sincerity, "for standing by my decision to undertake this journey. While I am away, do not hesitate to seek any assistance or guidance from Gandhari Bhabhi Shree. She will be more than willing to help you with anything you may need."

Kunti nodded in acknowledgment, her thoughts drifting as the gravity of the moment settled upon her. Silence enveloped them, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the gentle exhale of breath.

Suddenly, Kunti spoke, her voice tentative yet resolute. "Arya," she began, her words faltering briefly as conflicting emotions warred within her, "there is something I need to tell you."

Pandu's gaze softened, sensing Kunti's inner turmoil. "Yes, Kunti," he encouraged gently, "you can tell me anything. Do not hesitate."

Before Kunti could speak further, a guard entered the chamber, interrupting the moment with urgent news. "Maharaj, Mahamantri Vidur has asked me to inform you that everything is prepared for your Digvijaya Yatra. Also, Mahamahim Bhishma wishes to speak with you about the journey before you both leave."

Pandu nodded in acknowledgment, dismissing the guard with a wave of his hand. "You may leave. I will join you shortly."

As the guard departed, Pandu turned back to Kunti, his expression a mix of regret and resolve. "Kunti, I must leave now. We can discuss whatever is troubling you upon my return."

With that, Pandu made to leave, striding towards the door with purpose.

But before he could take another step, Kunti's voice cut through the silence, her words hanging in the air like a heavy cloak of revelation.

"Arya," Kunti spoke, her voice steady yet tinged with emotion,

"I GAVE BIRTH TO A CHILD BEFORE OUR MARRIAGE."

Pandu froze, his movements halted in mid-stride. Shock and disbelief painted across his features as he turned to face Kunti, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?" his voice quivered, barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil raging within him. His heart raced, his mind reeling at the magnitude of Kunti's confession.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, the air thick with tension as Pandu grappled with the revelation that threatened to unravel the foundation of their marriage, leaving them teetering on the precipice of uncertainty and doubt.

Let's continue in next chapter ☺️

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To be continued...

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How is the chapter?

What do you think of the cloaked figure? Our villian of the story...

So now kunti told Pandu truth... What do you think will happen next? 🤔

I am sure now that Pandu knows truth he will take Karna away from Dritharastra and Gandhari.... 🤔

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