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As the arena bazzed with anticipation, a young warrior stepped forward, his face radiant with a Surya tilak that seemed to capture the very essence of the sun. His approach was measured, his every step echoing humility and respect. Bowing deeply before the elders, he paid his homage with a grace that spoke of inner strength.

The crowd watched in awe as this warrior performed the same divine feats that Arjuna had just displayed. With a serene focus, he invoked the Varsha Astra, the Vayu Astra, the Agni Astra, and many others, each one executed with a precision that left the onlookers breathless.

But it was his final act that truly stunned them all. Raising his bow, the warrior launched a series of arrows skyward. The arrows soared through the air, and as they reached their zenith, a garland of flowers appeared, descending slowly until it gently settled into the hands of the blind king, Dhritarashtra.

The arena fell silent. Dhritarashtra, his senses heightened, breathed in deeply, recognizing the fragrance that filled the air. "इस माला से तो भगवान परशुराम की सुगंध आ रही है," he declared, his voice tinged with awe. Turning to Vidur, he asked, "यह महान योद्धा कौन है, जिसने यह चमत्कार किया है?"

Vidur's voice rang out, commanding the warrior's attention. "तुम कौन हो, और यहाँ क्यों आए हो?"

The young man stood tall, his voice firm as he responded, "मेरा नाम कर्ण है, और मैं भगवन परशुराम का शिष्य हूँ। मैं यहाँ यह सिद्ध करने आया हूँ कि मैं अर्जुन से भी श्रेष्ठ धनुर्धर हूँ।"

His words sent ripples of shock through the crowd. From her seat, Kunti felt her heart seize. The moment she had long feared, yet also longed for, had arrived. Her eyes widened as she recognized the unmistakable signs—the Surya tilak, the divine glow The shining kavach and kundal. She knew, deep in her soul, that this was her son, the child she had abandoned so many years ago. A storm of emotions churned within her—pride at his valor, guilt for the fate she had condemned him to, and an overwhelming grief that she could never claim him as her own.

Bhishma, the grandsire, stepped forward, his voice stern but laced with respect. "नहीं वत्स, यह रंगभूमि केवल राजकुमारों के लिए है। यदि तुम कोई राजा या राजकुमार नहीं हो, तो तुम्हारा इस प्रतियोगिता में कोई स्थान नहीं है।"

But before Bhishma's decree could fully settle, Duryodhana's voice cut through the air, strong and defiant. "क्षत्रिय की परिभाषा उनके जन्म से नहीं होती, पितामह। इस वीर को देखकर तो यही लगता है कि इसकी माता कोई क्षत्रिय ही होगी। परंतु यदि आपको अभी भी संदेह है, तो मैं इस महावीर को अंगदेश का राजा बनाता हूँ, जो मेरे अधीन है।"

As Duryodhana's words echoed through the arena, Kunti felt the world tilt around her. Her son, her Karna, was being elevated to royalty, yet he would never know the truth of his birth, the love she bore for him hidden deep in her heart. Tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back, knowing that her grief was her own to bear, in silence.

Nisha stood frozen at the edge of the crowd, her heart pounding in her chest. "Oh God," she whispered to herself, "it's actually happening—just like in the Mahabharata, just like on TV." The surrealism of the moment threatened to overwhelm her. She had just witnessed the legendary Karna, adorned with a radiant Surya tilak, boldly declare his superiority over Arjuna. Duryodhana's defiant proclamation still echoed in her ears. Everything felt like a dream, yet the heat of the sun on her skin and the murmurs of the crowd assured her it was all too real.

The competition ended without a clear decision on who would become the next king, and the gathered masses began to move toward the grand bhandara organized by the royal family. Nisha, still caught in the whirlwind of her thoughts, marveled at how she could understand every word of the ancient Sanskrit being spoken around her. It was as if her mind had been magically tuned to this time, this place.

But then, the magic faded, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. As she emerged from her thoughts, she noticed the eyes of those around her. Their stares were not of admiration or curiosity—they were filled with confusion and suspicion. It took her a moment to realize why. She looked down at herself, at the formal shirt and pants she had worn in Kaliyug. Her attire, so ordinary in her world, was jarringly out of place here, among the flowing robes and royal garments of the Dwapar Yug.

Panic rose within her as the crowd's whispers grew louder, their eyes lingering on her strange clothing. She was a foreign entity in this ancient world, a walking anomaly. Nisha's heart raced as she desperately tried to think of a way to blend in, to escape the attention that was now squarely focused on her.

Nisha's pulse quickened as the stares grew more intense. Just as panic threatened to take over, a voice called out from the crowd, sharp and commanding. "Who is this woman, dressed so strangely?" The voice belonged to a royal guard, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.



Just don't imagine that bag😅😁

Nisha hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But before she could think of anything, a figure stepped forward—a young servant girl with kind eyes. "She's one of the new royal maids appointed yeasterday," the girl said smoothly, her gaze urging Nisha to follow her lead. "She's traveled from a distant land, and her attire is traditional there."

The guard looked skeptical but nodded slowly. "Very well, but she must be taken to the palace immediately. She cannot roam freely in this state."

The servant girl, whose name was Adrika, grasped Nisha's arm gently but firmly, guiding her through the throngs of people. "Stay close," she whispered urgently. "We need to get you out of sight before anyone questions you further."

Nisha, her mind spinning, allowed herself to be led away. As they moved through the winding streets of Hastinapur, she was struck by the grandeur of the ancient city. Every corner revealed intricate carvings, majestic columns, and vibrant tapestries that spoke of a bygone era. Her archaeologist's eye noted the elaborate architecture and craftsmanship, even amidst her fear and confusion.



They reached a back entrance to the palace, and as Nisha stepped inside, she was immediately awed by the opulence surrounding her. The walls were adorned with elaborate frescoes depicting ancient battles and divine scenes, and the floors were covered with intricate rugs that seemed to tell stories of their own. The palace exuded a sense of history and grandeur that left Nisha breathless.

Adrika led her through the palace corridors until they arrived before an older woman—a figure Nisha recognized instantly.

"Rajmata Kunti!" Nisha's breath caught in her throat. The woman before her was regal, her presence commanding yet warm.

Kunti's eyes, sharp and discerning, swept over Nisha. "Who is this, and why is she dressed so peculiarly?" she asked Adrika.

Adrika stepped forward, her voice steady. "Rajmata Kunti, this woman appeared suddenly and seemed lost. I thought it best to bring her here, where she might be safe."

Kunti's gaze softened, though she remained cautious. "Tum ho kaun putri aur kahan se ayi ho?" she asked Nisha.

Nisha, struggling to find the right words, spoke up. "Rajmata kunti I'm from a different time. Somehow, I've been transported to this world. I don't know how I understand your language or why I'm here, but I swear I'm telling the truth."

Kunti's expression was one of deep contemplation. "The truth in your eyes is clear. But this is no ordinary situation. You must stay hidden. I will find a way to assist you, but for now, you must remain in the palace."

Turning to Adrika, Kunti instructed, "take her to your room, she will be comfortable with you. She can assist with tasks there, which will provide both cover and a means of staying useful."

Relief washed over Nisha, mingled with awe at her proximity to the heart of the Mahabharata. As she was shown to her new quarters, she marveled at the detailed frescoes and ornate furnishings, feeling a blend of wonder and gratitude. The beauty of Hastinapur's palace, with its rich colors and elegant design, was unlike anything she had ever seen. She had come so far, and now, standing within these hallowed walls, she was closer to the epicenter of the ancient story than she had ever imagined.

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1425 word count hope you guys like it, please vote for it guys it means a lot to meee.....