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The One Who Holds My Reins

Oh Krishna, my dearest Madhav, I have seen my god in you- Your blue-hued gaze holding the vastness of the universe, The stars themselves moving at your silent command. Oh Keshava, my dearest Madhav, You weave fate with the flick of your wrist, Yet hold my reins with hands steady, patient, kind. You gather the shards of my broken mind, And in your embrace, I am whole again. I have heard your laughter, bright as rivers in spring, I have seen your stillness, deep as oceans before the storm. And now, I breathe your name- A prayer not spoken, but felt in the marrow of my soul. Hai Parameswara, Hai prabhu, You have lifted the veil from my eyes, Shown me dharma, my path, my truth. This war is no longer about me, my pride, my sorrow- It is the weight of the world, the will of time itself. Oh Janardana, father of the universe, In one breath, I bow down to you, Yet such is your simplicity, that in another breath- I can crumble into my sakha’s arms Oh Govinda, for your cause- I would shatter a thousand bows, a thousand destinies. And when the dust of war settles, When the echoes of battle fade into silence, It is not victory or defeat I will remember- But the chariot’s wheels turning beneath your steady hands, And the voice that called me back to myself.

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Udderance- Mahabharat crack fic Series Part VI

It was a calm evening in Indraprastha. Golden light spilled across the stone floors as the five brothers gathered in the courtyard, taking a rare break from war councils and weapons training.

Yudhishthira had decided it was the perfect moment to read aloud a philosophical letter from a wise sage, because of course he had.

Bhima was lying on his back with a fig in his mouth, with Nakula braiding his hair without trying to hide how bored he looked. Arjuna leaned on one elbow, absently toying with a piece of grass, and Sahadeva sat upright like a curious owl.

Yudhishthira cleared his throat with great ceremony. “The sage writes: ‘Speech, dear sons, is the true mirror of the soul. One should always weigh each udderance with care—’”

A beat of silence.

Arjuna slowly tilted his head. “…Udderance?”

Bhima sat up very straight. “UDDERANCE?” Nakula’s voice cracked.

Yudhishthira blinked, frowning at the scroll. “Yes. Udderance. The sage writes-”

Sahadeva had his hand over his mouth, already trembling. Arjuna squinted at the scroll. “Bhrata I think the sage meant utterance.”

“Udderance is… much so cow related, I though, even I don’t know if such words really exist” Sahadeva offered helpfully.

Bhima choked. “He’s asking us to weigh our cow-speech with care?”

Nakula fell over. “We must milk our wisdom before speaking, brothers-!”

Yudhishthira’s face had gone scarlet. “That’s not what I- Clearly a mistake on my-”

Bhima doubled over, wheezing. “The next time you give a speech, shall I bring a bucket, O Noble Cow-King?”

Even Arjuna, trying very hard to be respectful, was shaking. “We must moo with meaning, not mutter mindlessly.”

Nakula, barely breathing: “You udderly misread that scroll.”

Yudhishthira dropped the letter and covered his face with both hands. “I’m going to disown all four of you.”

Bhima collapsed sideways into Nakula, giggling like a boy again. “Moo-st you, brother? Moo-st you?”

“Stop it,” Yudhishthira groaned. “Stop right now.”

But no one did. Not even Draupadi, when she passed by moments later and asked what was going on.

And that night, someone (Sahadeva) secretly added a small cow doodle to Yudhishthira’s ceremonial speech scroll.

He noticed it two days later and said nothing.

But he knew.

How does one make their Wattpad story look so pretty?? Also any Arjun-centric stories I can read???

Help me. My stories just look dull, and I, for the love of god, can't find good photos or anything to make it more pretty.

Please give me suggestions. How do I make my work more pretty? Also should I shift to ao3? I've never used it but it intrigues me.

Also, are there any good Arjuna-centric stories or fics I can read? My mind is in a block these days and I wish I could read some stories to restart my mind?

if you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog. :)

Okay let's do this

I am deadly scared of bees and wasps, basically all insects that go buzz buzz near me and are capable of stinging me, yes, I'm terrified.

I'm farsighted, but I hate wearing glasses so I just squint.

I secretly smoke, not even my closed friends know that. I don't do it often, and I'm trying to stop.

If it were a sport, I would be an Olympian✨

if indian dumb charades was a sport, I'd have 23482 gold medals in it

The story of Arjun's life

Krishna had sent him here with a simple instruction: "Go. Learn." Learn what exactly? Krishna hadn’t said. But Arjuna was used to unraveling the mysteries woven into his friend’s words.

Krishna sending Arjuna on side quests like an open-world RPG, lol

https://www.wattpad.com/1527739311-arjuna-through-the-lenses-of-dwarka-the-master-of

"Kya hai Zindagi"

It's the question "Violence" and the answer is Yes.

I'm quite new to tumblr and REALLY I don't know how things work (I hope this is replying to you and not going into a void) but yes the answer is yes (most times)

Yashoda's Ode

They let me stand at the edge of the crowd, behind gold-cloaked queens and guards of flame. He didn’t see me- or maybe he did- and smiled the same. They say he is a prince now, son of kings and ancient light, cradled not by calloused hands, but by the silks of royal right. They say he wears a peacock crown, he holds a bow, commands the skies- but I remember muddy feet, and milk-white teeth in mango lies. They speak of battles, of demons slain, of chariots and warlike men- but I recall my Lala, the butter thief, who’d smile and steal my heart again. He left with eyes too old for boys, too knowing for his tender years. Yet when he touched my feet to go, he left his smile, and took my tears. No labor bore him from my womb, no birthmark bound us, blood nor bone- but when he called me Maiya once, I knew no love more fierce, more known. I nursed no prince, no god, just raised a child- the sweetest boy the world has known. With scraped-up knees and endless, laughing songs, Years slipped by like your whispers, soft and wild. If Devaki birthed the god, then I raised that boy to be one. No cradle held him like my arms. No storm outshone his laughing hour. I taught him how to tie his sash, to whistle low, and climb trees. I taught a god to eat with both hands- Oh, I taught a god to eat with both hands. Devaki stood with the pride of dawn, her hands soft-folded, eyes gone wet. And I? I smiled too,  because I know she grieves the years I can’t forget. So let them say he saves the world, let them crown and call him wise- I only hope he eats enough, and still looks up at the stars. Some nights, I wake with silence in my arms- no flute, no laugh upon the breeze- but every morning, I still stir his curds and Makhan with memories. So go, my moon, my flame, my very breath- be what the world must call divine. But if your feet should wander home… your Maiya waits, her old arms still wide.

Art by @saranagati.art from Instagram

As Arjuna plummeted toward his fate, his mind was a storm of regrets and unanswered questions- yet woven through the sorrow was the undeniable truth of all he had lived for.

Arjuna had died long before his body ever fell.

He had died the day he placed his grandsire on a bed of arrows. He had died the moment he first saw his son's lifeless body.

And truly, he had stopped living the day his Madhav left him.

What was left for him in a world where Krishna did not walk?

Somewhere along the years, through war and bloodshed, he had always known-he would not die on the battlefield. Despite his name being synonymous with it, despite his life being defined by it, war had never been his final fate. His end was meant to be something quieter, something lonelier.

As he fell, the jagged rocks tearing through flesh and bone, his life did not flash before his eyes in a blur of bloodstained memories. No, instead, he saw the moments that had made life worth living.

The first time he held a bow, the wood smooth beneath his hands, his heart hammering with certainty-this was his calling. Pitamah's hand rested on his shoulder, firm yet gentle. "Steady, Arjuna. A warrior's hands must never tremble." And in that moment, with Bhishma's unwavering faith in him, he had never felt stronger.

"You remind me why I became a teacher, Arjuna," Guru Drona had said, resting a hand on his head, after the first time he struck the eye of a moving target. Just those words, simple and rare, had meant more to him than any title or prize.

The way Subhadra had laughed when she took the reins, wind whipping through her hair as they rode into the night.

The way Draupadi had looked at him that day in Kampilya-steady, knowing, fierce-as if she had chosen him long before she ever placed the garland around his neck.

He had been so tired for so long.

Wattpad

Arjuna: Through the Lenses of Dwarka - Echo's of a Life Lived

Read Echo's of a Life Lived from the story Arjuna: Through the Lenses of Dwarka by yumjum414 (kya hai jindagi) with 88...

Arjuna: 3, Yadavas: 0- Mahabharat crack fic Series Part III

It was a bright afternoon in Dwarka, the sun hanging lazily in the sky, mirroring the way Krishna and Arjuna lounged on the shaded steps overlooking the field. A group of Yadavas lounged under the shade of a marble pavilion, their laughter echoing as they watched what had now become a familiar sight: Satyaki challenging Arjuna- a weekly occurrence

Krishna, reclining against a pillar, plucked at a blade of grass. Arjuna, sitting beside him with one knee drawn up, absentmindedly twirled a training arrow between his fingers.

"You do realize, Parth, that they won't stop until one of them beats you?" Krishna said, amusement dancing in his voice.

Arjuna let out a small chuckle. "And when has that ever happened?"

Krishna laughed, shaking his head. Below them, Satyaki was stretching his arms, rolling his shoulders with exaggerated confidence. Pradyumna and Samba stood on either side of him, whispering among themselves. The younger Yadavas: brothers, cousins, and warriors-in-training- all gathered around, eager to watch.

“They’re plotting,” Krishna remarked, watching the trio below with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Arjuna sighed, shaking his head. "They always do."

Krishna grinned. “And yet, you continue to indulge them.”

Arjuna turned to him, his expression softening just a little. "Let them dream, Madhav. They are young. It is good for them to believe, even for a moment, that they stand a chance."

Krishna hummed in agreement, a smile tugging at his lips. "And do you ever let them win?"

Arjuna smirked. "Nope."

Before Krishna could reply, below them, Satyaki called out, “Come on, Parth! Let’s see if you can still keep up with me.”

A chorus of cheers and laughter rose from the assembled warriors, all eager for the spectacle. Pradyumna and Samba stood just behind him, pretending not to be involved but clearly far too eager.

Arjuna sighed dramatically and rose to his feet. " Very well, Yuyudhana. Let’s not keep your admirers waiting.”

He rose, stretching with elegance that made even something as simple as standing up look like an art. Krishna followed lazily, clearly in no rush to interfere.

The younger Yadavas whispered among themselves. “Satyaki might actually win this time,” one said.

“He’s faster now,” another added.

Krishna stifled a laugh. "They have so much faith in Satyaki, don't they?" Arjuna shook his head in mild exasperation before stepping forward. "Come then, my friend. Show me what you've learned."

The wrestling match had barely begun when Satyaki, brimming with confidence, lunged at Arjuna.

It might have worked… if Arjuna weren’t Arjuna.

Satyaki lunged, fast and strong- but against Arjuna, fast and strong were never enough.

With an almost casual movement, Arjuna sidestepped at the last moment, caught Satyaki’s arm, and redirected his force mid-air.

THUD…

Satyaki landed flat on his back, staring up at the sky, the breath knocked out of him. The watching onlookers winced.

From the steps, Krishna called out, “That looked graceful, Satyaki. Do you need a moment?”

Satyaki groaned. “I-I'm fine.”

Pradyumna folded his arms. "That looked painful."

Samba grinned. "Not as painful as what we’re about to do."

Before Arjuna could even turn around, the two young Yadava princes pounced.

Samba went for his legs while Pradyumna leapt for his shoulders. A sound strategy, against anyone else that is.

Arjuna, without so much as a frown, shifted his weight at the perfect moment. He caught Pradyumna mid-air with one arm and smoothly stepped aside- causing Samba to charge forward into thin air.

Samba, unable to stop in time, crashed straight into Satyaki.

“Off! Get off me, you little menace!” Satyaki groaned.

Arjuna, meanwhile, glanced down at Pradyumna, still held securely in his grip, like a father humoring an impatient son. “You seem troubled, Yuvraj,” Arjuna mused, his voice smooth as silk.

Pradyumna glared, red-faced, struggled in his grip. "Put me down, uncle!"

Arjuna smiled. "Oh? But you seemed eager to climb me a moment ago."

Samba, tangled with Satyaki, cackled. “He got you there.”

Pradyumna, refusing to lose face, latched onto Arjuna’s arm and refused to let go. Samba, never one to miss an opportunity, grabbed onto his other side.

Satyaki, deciding that this was the perfect time for revenge, lunged at Arjuna’s back.

It was three against one.

For anyone else, this would have been a fight.

For Arjuna? With a single, almost lazy shift of movement, he broke Samba and Pradyumna’s grip, twisted, and let Satyaki’s own momentum carry him forward- straight into the dirt. The three Yadavas collapsed in a heap, groaning. Dust flew everywhere.

Arjuna dusted off his sleeves, completely unruffled. He turned to Krishna, who was watching with clear amusement.

"Was that entertaining enough for you, Govind?"

Krishna chuckled. "It was brief but enjoyable. I did warn them."

Satyaki, still sprawled on the ground, glared up at Arjuna. "I will win one day."

Arjuna smiled fondly. "I admire your optimism, Yuyudhana."

Pradyumna, patting away all the dust from his being, muttered defeatly, “I hate him.”

Arjuna turned to him with genuine warmth in his eyes. "I know you don’t, Pradyumna. But do tell me when you’re ready to train again, I will teach you how to be better."

Pradyumna, despite himself, looked away, the irritation in his expression replaced by something almost begrudgingly respectful.

Samba, still grinning, clapped Arjuna on the back. “You’re annoying, but I like you.”

Arjuna let out a soft laugh and mussed Samba’s hair like an elder brother. "Likewise, little prince."

Krishna, watching the exchange, smiled knowingly. "You see, Parth? They admire you more than they admit."

Arjuna sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. "They will be the end of me one day, Madhav."

Krishna laughed. "Then you’ll have to stay undefeated, won’t you?"

And with that, the three bruised, exhausted Yadavas stood once more- ready, even in their defeat, to challenge Arjuna again another day.