Posted:
Please note: I've taken major liberties while writing this.
She looked around at the unknown Kings. They smiled back pleasantly.
She had to choose one of them as the man she would spend her life with.
She nodded politely at each of them as the royal announcer introduced them. She wasn't paying much attention to them. Least aware of the wide smiles that adorned the faces of the Kings, her mind replayed an unusual conversation, some two years ago.
-'-'-
"What about my son Maharishi? My first-born?"
"He is the son of great Surya; the grandson of mighty Kuntibhoj. Here, the Yadav blood mixes with divinity." he appeared to be in deep contemplation, "Your son will grow to be counted among one of the most illustrious personalities of Aryavart."
"Have I done the right thing in letting him go?" her posture broke with each word. Her head bowed at the feet of the Sage, she sobbed.
Ignoring her words, the Sage continued, "You, Kuntinkumaari, will have an essential role to play when the Saviour incarnates. You will not be able to fulfill your duty, with him at your side. You must choose one." Kunti looked up, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "The Saviour or your first-born?"
Her voice quavered, "Saviour, I choose."
-'-'-
"What happened my dear? Why do you shed tears on such an auspicious moment?" her father asked.
Kunti hastily wiped her tears, "No. No, I'm not. It's- it's just that Maa is not here with us today. I'm sad for that. Just that."
True enough, the Mother of Karna did not bear witness to Pritha's swayamvar. He would now be old enough to say 'Maa'. Wouldn't he?
-'-'-
None but she knew how much it had cost her to choose the Saviour over her child.
-'-'-
She advanced, feeling the weight of the sacred garland in her hands. She struggled within herself to maintain the graceful smile that was tainted with misery; the dainty gait that threatened to falter.
She looked around.
Was this her first step towards her part in the divine play?
Or had she already taken it?
-'-'-
All of the Kings stared down at her.
Amidst them, was one, who appeared to admire the garland in her hand rather than she. He looked up before she lowered her eyes. As their eyes met, he grinned and looked away.
He was tall, well-built man. His complexion was pale, but he had a distinguished charm. Rather childish, she thought, as a sudden warmth spread around her.
-'-'-
She walked towards him. Flashes of memories whirled around her.
She serving Rishi Durvasa.
He giving her the divine charm.
Her irresponsible curiosity.
The terrible brilliance of the Sun.
The baby with inborn armour and earrings.
The smile of the unknown prince.
'The Saviour or your first-born?'
The smile. The Saviour.
The baby. The Saviour. The smile.
And then she thought not.
She looked around at the unknown Kings. They smiled back pleasantly.
She had to choose one of them as the man she would spend her life with.
She nodded politely at each of them as the royal announcer introduced them. She wasn't paying much attention to them. Least aware of the wide smiles that adorned the faces of the Kings, her mind replayed an unusual conversation, some two years ago.
-'-'-
"What about my son Maharishi? My first-born?"
"He is the son of great Surya; the grandson of mighty Kuntibhoj. Here, the Yadav blood mixes with divinity." he appeared to be in deep contemplation, "Your son will grow to be counted among one of the most illustrious personalities of Aryavart."
"Have I done the right thing in letting him go?" her posture broke with each word. Her head bowed at the feet of the Sage, she sobbed.
Ignoring her words, the Sage continued, "You, Kuntinkumaari, will have an essential role to play when the Saviour incarnates. You will not be able to fulfill your duty, with him at your side. You must choose one." Kunti looked up, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "The Saviour or your first-born?"
Her voice quavered, "Saviour, I choose."
-'-'-
"What happened my dear? Why do you shed tears on such an auspicious moment?" her father asked.
Kunti hastily wiped her tears, "No. No, I'm not. It's- it's just that Maa is not here with us today. I'm sad for that. Just that."
True enough, the Mother of Karna did not bear witness to Pritha's swayamvar. He would now be old enough to say 'Maa'. Wouldn't he?
-'-'-
None but she knew how much it had cost her to choose the Saviour over her child.
-'-'-
She advanced, feeling the weight of the sacred garland in her hands. She struggled within herself to maintain the graceful smile that was tainted with misery; the dainty gait that threatened to falter.
She looked around.
Was this her first step towards her part in the divine play?
Or had she already taken it?
-'-'-
All of the Kings stared down at her.
Amidst them, was one, who appeared to admire the garland in her hand rather than she. He looked up before she lowered her eyes. As their eyes met, he grinned and looked away.
He was tall, well-built man. His complexion was pale, but he had a distinguished charm. Rather childish, she thought, as a sudden warmth spread around her.
-'-'-
She walked towards him. Flashes of memories whirled around her.
She serving Rishi Durvasa.
He giving her the divine charm.
Her irresponsible curiosity.
The terrible brilliance of the Sun.
The baby with inborn armour and earrings.
The smile of the unknown prince.
'The Saviour or your first-born?'
The smile. The Saviour.
The baby. The Saviour. The smile.
And then she thought not.
comment:
p_commentcount