इतना भी मेरे सब्र का इम्तिहान ना ले, ऐ जिन्दगी,

जलजला जब भी आता है, सबकुछ बहा ले जाता है...!

Chhoti Si Chiraiyya- part 2

अज़ब निराली मोह की माया समझे समझ नहीं आये

How many kingdoms did he have to raze before he could finally rest, subhadra wondered. What was the need for another Ashwamedha Yajna? What was the need for more war, more destruction, more loss and more death?

She never understood how her brother, who in one breath said that one must escape from worldly trappings, could espouse even more conquest and bloodshed with another.

Hadn't they lost enough?

अंगना से तोहरी चहक तो जाए

A flock of birds chirped noisily outside his window while he worked. When had he last heard Prativindhya's voice chirping just like those birds outside of his window? When was the last time someone had excitedly rushed into his room, saying "Baba, baba-!"

Yudhishthir had lost his son long before he died.

When was the last time there had been anything but bitterness between them?

Yudhishthir missed his son, and he thought he could endure a thousand words that cut like poisoned daggers, only if he could hear his son's voice again.

He would take all the shouting, all the caustic insults over this deafening silence.

तोहरी महक नहीं जाए

Prativindhya had expensive tastes, and when yudhishthir met him again, even if Prativindhya wasn't allowing him to come closer, the smell of attar or musk would always emanate from him even from afar. After all, he was yojanagandha's son. At points when vindhya was feeling particularly angry, Yudhishthir would use his own sense of smell to stay out of vindhya's way.

How he wished he had sought him out instead of avoiding him, how he wished he had tried to apologize and repent. He wished he had tried to bridge the chasm between them, but-

But wishes didn't do anything, and all he could do was live out his days and hope whatever came after would be kind, he hoped that whatever he was born as in his next life, his son didn't have a father like him.

नैन समंदर सात भरे पर

Arjun tried not to think much these days. If he thought, he would feel, if he felt, he would collapse, and he could not collapse. He was a commander on a conquest and collapsing would mean death, or worse, defeat. It was as simple as that.

But- but wasn't Shrutakarma at the very back of his mind even when he was alive?

Didn't getting distracted and not thinking about how his sons were doing kill them?

So he thought. He thought about how they were as opposite as men's thoughts and words, he thought about Shrutakarma's quietness and Abhimanyu's loudness, of Shrutakarma's hesitance and Abhimanyu's confidence.

How Shrutakarma often went unnoticed, behind the scenes, and Abhimanyu was always in the spotlight, blazing and burning until-

Until he flew too close to the sun.

No, no, that wasn't right. That made it seem like his death was his own fault.

It wasn't.

It was Arjun's wasn't it.

He took Susharman's bait, he allowed himself to be led away from the battlefield, he-

And after he thought they had won the war, he allowed himself to relax, he had a good night's sleep before losing it forever.

Arjun stared at himself in the lake near the campsite, his face haggard, his eyes bloodshot from the sleepless nights, and tried to cry, but he felt so exahusted. As if his tears had dried up and his eyes were tired from all the crying and- and he couldn't cry.

If he could, he thought, his tears would have made another lake right next to this one and then gone on to fill the seven seas.

भरे ना करेजवा के घाव

He had not been fair to Shrutakarma, he thought. He shouldn't have said that to Shrutakarma when he checked up on him after Saubhadra died.

Shrutakarma's shattered face when Shikhandi told him that his injured hand meant that he probably would never be able to draw or write still haunted him.

And that fact was made all the more prominent when, in a fit of rage, Nakul had shouted at him,

"You weren't the one who reminded him to keep water aside for himself, and not give it all to the horses, you weren't the one who wiped his tears after his brothers, yes, I mean Panchal's princes because he grew up with them, were killed by your beloved guru, you weren't the one who found him asleep standing up FREQUENTLY, you- what is wrong with you? You had the most remarkable son in all the three worlds, why were you never there for him?"

मुनिया मोरी

He asked that question to himself all the time. What was wrong with him? Why could he never understand Shrutakarma?

Shrutakarma had been blunt, though, never one to mince words. Had he been alive, maybe he could have answered that question.

Nakul had apologized later, of course, but it didn't change the fact that he had spoken the truth.

@blackknight-100 @theramblergal @archpoet77 @ishaaron-ishaaron-me @magica124 @sharngapani @rishabhaa @cyndaquillt

15 notes View Post

raja-123s-world

6 months ago